A divine healer, a general, a young marquis! Who can rival them!

He's a strategist.

The story circulated for several days, and adults and children in the city began to show a degree of awe.

No matter how famous he was, Yang Hu was still just a doctor sitting in a clinic with a sign hanging on his back.

That afternoon.

The line of patients at the clinic had stretched out onto the street.

Yang Hu had just examined an old man's thighbone injury when he heard a commotion outside the door.

A burly man staggered over, grabbed Yang Hu's arm, and knelt down at his feet.

"Dr. Yang, help! My wife gave birth to a son, and the bleeding...the bleeding won't stop!"

The man was around 30 years old and sold tofu pudding. He was usually very honest and unassuming, but at this moment he was pale and unable to speak.

"This morning, I gave birth to my son... My son was born, but the bleeding... the bleeding won't stop... it just won't stop..."

Yang Hu's eyebrows suddenly twisted upwards.

Hemorrhage...

In his original profession, postpartum hemorrhage was considered a life-saving emergency. However, in the border regions where medical care and medicine were scarce, childbirth was already a life-threatening ordeal for women, and postpartum hemorrhage was tantamount to a death sentence.

"Where?" Yang Hu stood up.

"The third household in Mopan Lane, south of the city!"

Yang Hu looked back.

"Yan'er, come with me."

The delivery room is a woman's territory, and it is a big taboo for a male doctor to enter. A woman must be found to help take care of the patient. Lu Yan comes from the Duke's family, is literate, and is very reliable in her actions.

Lu Yan hummed in agreement, picked up the medicine box, and went out with him.

We arrived at Millstone Alley.

The tofu shop was filled with cries and screams.

A strong, fishy smell wafted out of the room.

The woman lay on the kang (a heated brick bed), her face deathly pale, devoid of any red veins, her lips colorless, and her breathing barely perceptible. A copper basin on the bed was already nearly half full of blood.

An old woman stood under the bed; this was Liu, the midwife. She frowned when she saw Yang Hu arrive.

"This is a delivery room; how can a man go in there?!"

"Old Lady Liu..." The man wiped away his tears and stood in front of him. "This is Doctor Yang from the east of the city, a miracle doctor! Please let Doctor Yang take a look..."

Granny Liu chuckled and stepped aside.

"Go ahead and try. I've been delivering babies for thirty years, and none of those cases of postpartum hemorrhage have survived. It's a case of being cursed by a blood demon; their fate is sealed, and even a god can't help them."

At the head of the bed, an old woman, the new mother's mother-in-law, was holding her newborn grandson, sniffling and hiccuping.

"What a sin... I just had a grandson... and now I'm going to lose my mother..."

Yang Hu ignored them.

He stepped forward and first checked the woman's pulse.

It's too thin.

It's as thin as a spider silk thread.

If this continues, it will break down in at most half an hour.

He reached up and touched the new mother's belly through the blanket.

It's soft and limp.

I have no strength at all.

Yang Hu had a general idea of ​​what was going on.

The blood keeps flowing, and the root cause is not elsewhere.

The place where a baby is born should close on its own to stop the bleeding, but it was loose and couldn't control the force, so the bleeding continued to flow.

It's not some kind of blood demon; I've lost my strength here.

"There's hope!" Yang Hu said.

Everyone in the room was stunned.

"What did you say?" Midwife Liu stared wide-eyed. "It's leaking like this, and you're saying there's any hope?"

"The blood hasn't all drained, and the person still has a breath left." Yang Hu rolled up his sleeves. "Yan'er, take the hemostatic herbs from my medicine box: motherwort, roasted ginger, and that packet of stir-fried cattail pollen. Boil a big pot of it over high heat until it's thick. Have this family make a big pot of brown sugar water, with plenty of sugar, and keep it warm!"

Lu Yan ran off to do it quickly.

Yang Hu looked at the old woman: "I didn't take care of the child, he's fine. Please prop her up a bit, let her lie down halfway."

He reached out his own hand and placed it on the woman's lower abdomen.

Gently rub, not too lightly, not too heavily.

The midwife, Liu, watched in disbelief: "What are you doing? The woman is so weak after childbirth, and you're still rubbing her belly? Are you trying to kill her?!"

"We need to massage it until we get some strength in her." Yang Hu's forehead was sweating, and his hands kept moving. "Only when it contracts and tightens will the bleeding stop."

Outsiders had never seen such a method before, and they were all terrified.

The man stood at the door, his fists clenched, veins bulging, staring intently at the person on the bed.

After touching it for a while, Yang Hu clearly felt that the limp thing under his hand was slowly becoming firmer.

There was less blood in the copper basin under the bed.

The medicine was ready, and Lu Yan brought it over, helping the new mother drink it sip by sip, and then drank most of the bowl of brown sugar water herself.

Endure it little by little.

The woman held the baby tightly, afraid to cry, and stared intently at her daughter-in-law's expression.

After an unknown amount of time, the woman's pale face gradually regained some color.

The sound of their breathing became much more even.

"Mother..." The new mother's lips moved slightly, and she managed to utter a single word.

The whole room was so quiet you could hear the candle flames crackling, then there was a loud bang.

"She's alive! She's alive!"

The man ran to the bedside, hugged his wife's hand, and cried like a child.

Liu, the midwife, stood there, unaware that the towel in her hand had fallen. She had delivered babies for thirty years and personally sent off so many women suffering from postpartum hemorrhage. She had never imagined that someone on the verge of death could actually be snatched back from the jaws of death.

"This...this hemorrhage, can it still be cured..." she muttered, all her previous arrogance vanishing.

"Postpartum hemorrhage isn't some kind of blood curse." Yang Hu wiped his sweat. "After giving birth, that area loses its strength and can't stop the bleeding. Once you get the strength back, the hemostatic agent will follow, and then you'll gradually replenish the lost blood, and the person will recover. There's no such thing as being destined to die."

Liu the midwife's face was as red as a pig's liver.

Yang Hu went on and on, telling him to lie down and not move for the next few days, to take the hemostatic medicine for another two days, and to drink some brown sugar soup and bone broth to replenish his blood and energy, and to feed the baby some as well.

The tofu seller wanted to pay for the consultation, but after rummaging through his chest and bag, he only found a few strings of cash. Yang Hu only accepted payment for a few boxes of medicine.

"It's not easy for a tofu maker to save up a little money," he said. "I'll use it to supplement my wife's diet."

The tofu seller was extremely grateful, kneeling and bowing repeatedly, insisting on sending two pieces of fresh tofu to Doctor Yang in the east of the city.

The news spread within two days:

"The wife of the tofu maker in Nanmopan Alley in the city suffered a hemorrhage. Midwife Liu said she was doomed and even made arrangements for her funeral. But Doctor Yang from the east of the city saved her in no time."

"That's right! It's said that when Doctor Yang pressed his hand, the bleeding stopped—it's like the dead came back to life!"

An old woman holding her grandson nearby murmured, "This Dr. Yang is truly a living bodhisattva. Women have to go through hell to give birth, and he's doing great good deeds here."

These rumors reached Yang Hu's ears, but he ignored them and continued seeing patients as usual.

When he returned to the backyard that evening, Lu Yan was helping him sort through the medicinal herbs that had been messed up during the day, a smile on her face.

"Young master, you have saved two lives today." One was a woman in labor, and the other was a newborn baby—only when the mother is alive can the baby have milk to eat.

"Just something casually," Yang Hu said, going to drink his tea.

Lu Rou was there calculating with the abacus beads, recording the money in her account, saying, "I'm not charging for the consultation."

Qin Ying sat by the window, silently pinching the patterns on the back of the knife.

When Yang Hu mentioned massaging to stop the bleeding and dragging the person back from the pool of blood, her hand holding the knife froze.

"A perfectly healthy woman giving birth, and she just died like that," she said, her face contorted. "And yet you dared to touch that place that was almost empty. Anyone else would have been too scared to touch it."

"I dare not move, for fear of taking the blame," Yang Hu chuckled. "I only see the weak spots. Once I knead them to regain strength, the bleeding will stop. Where would the blood evil come from?"

Qin Ying didn't reply, but her gaze lingered for a second longer than usual.

It was late. As Lu Yan packed her medicine box, she said softly, "This new mother will probably never forget this."

Yang Hu nodded. In this day and age, childbirth is like going through the gates of hell for a woman. If she makes it through, she's thankful; if she doesn't, one life is lost along with two, and there's nowhere to seek justice.

He saved one more life, and in the maternity wards south of the city, families who never dared to call a doctor would remember him, saying, "There's a Doctor Yang in the east of the city." This reputation was more reliable than any other name or brand.

He was unaware that, just south of the city, a catastrophe ten times worse than a hemorrhage was brewing in the depths of a low-lying alleyway...