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

The Yang family had established themselves in the west of the city.

Healing the great, earth-shattering wound that Old Master Wei had made with a single, massive cut was enough to keep those prominent families in the west of the city in check.

The number of people seeking medical treatment is increasing day by day.

Even the wealthy families at the alley entrance, who previously looked down on this outsider clinic, now secretly went to Yang's clinic to get medicine when their servants had a cough or headache.

A couple of days ago, a government official's wife from the west of the city had been coughing for several days. The famous doctor in the city prescribed a whole basket of calming and nourishing medicines, but her condition only worsened.

When they arrived at Yang's clinic, Yang Hu examined her tongue and determined that it wasn't a sign of weakness, but rather internal heat in her lungs. He prescribed several doses of herbal remedies to clear heat and relieve her symptoms, and said she would recover in three or four days.

From then on, the number of invitations sent from the deep mansions in the west of the city increased significantly.

For common minor ailments, Yang Hu no longer needed to take action. After learning from him for a few days, Aji could handle most of the cases by following the prescriptions, getting the medicine, and consulting with doctors. He was just like a little doctor himself.

At noon that day, there was another commotion at the alley entrance.

A burly man, strong and thick-waisted, was dragged and pulled through the door by two companions. The man was clutching his lower abdomen, sweating profusely from the pain, unable to bend over, and groaning in pain.

Beads of sweat the size of soybeans streamed down his forehead, and his hands gripped his companion's arms so tightly that they grimaced his face.

"Dr. Yang, please save my brother Zhang Er!"

Yang Hu went over and helped the man to the side, asking, "What's wrong?"

"This morning, while I was carrying a load, I used a bit of brute force, and suddenly this hard lump of flesh popped out from under my belly, and I couldn't push it back in!" his companion exclaimed anxiously. "He's been in so much pain all day, rolling around on the ground."

"I carried him to the south of the city and found a doctor. That doctor said... his intestines had prolapsed and were stuck, so he had to be surgically removed. If the surgery wasn't done properly, he would die..."

Upon hearing that surgery was to be performed, Zhang Er's face turned deathly pale, and he trembled with pain.

There was also an old doctor with a white beard, the very same expert, who stood with his hands behind his back, saying with a forced smile, "If the small intestine falls out and gets completely blocked, it will rot and cause blood and qi to stagnate. This kind of illness will kill you if you don't have surgery! You young man are still so young, haven't you ever heard of a small intestine before?"

Yang Hu ignored him, helped Zhang Erping lie down on the bed, unbuttoned his clothes, and pinched his lower abdomen.

The hard lump was embedded in the opening, taut and tight.

I have a sense of proportion.

It's not that my intestines are rotting, nor is it some life-threatening illness.

It's an inguinal hernia—when you strain, a piece of intestine slips down through the opening and gets stuck there, unable to come back. If it gets stuck for a long time, the blood and qi flow becomes sluggish, and the pain gets worse and worse.

The key is to get it back in place, to open it up, and then no surgery will be needed.

"Why operate!" Yang Hu said calmly. "His small intestine has fallen out and is stuck, not rotted. Just send it back, and he'll be fine."

The white-bearded old doctor sneered, "Send it back? It's tough. I've tried pushing it for ages and it won't budge. You try!"

Yang Hu didn't argue with him.

Two thin blankets were brought over and placed under Zhang Er's buttocks, causing him to lift his entire buttocks up, and his knees were bent.

"Try to hold on, the more you hold on, the tighter it gets." Yang Hu grabbed his knee. "Don't hold on, just swallow this."

They brought a hot cloth and placed it on the hard block to cover it.

Zhang Er was initially quite stiff, but as the hot cloth covered him and Yang Hu coaxed him, his rigid frame gradually relaxed.

Seizing the opportunity, Yang Hu grabbed the hard lump with one hand and gently pushed it in through the hole.

Those surrounding them held their breath.

Some of the timid ones turned their heads away, not daring to look, thinking that this delivery would result in someone's death!

The white-bearded old doctor came closer, looking at him with disbelief.

After several attempts to push it in, the hard lump that had been firmly embedded loosened, gurgled, and squeezed back out of the opening.

The swollen area below Zhang Er's abdomen softened, and he paused for a moment, then moved around a bit. The excruciating pain had significantly lessened.

"No, it doesn't hurt anymore?" he said in a trembling voice, unable to believe it. "Dr. Yang, it really doesn't hurt anymore!"

The onlookers started arguing:

"Amazing! That old doctor in the south of the city said it would be cut off with surgery, but he pushed it back in a few strokes without even cutting it!"

"What a loss! What a loss! If they just cut it out, wouldn't that be considered death? If they really dug it out, wouldn't someone have died for nothing?"

The white-bearded old doctor's face turned yellow. He cursed "crooked and evil practices," and, too ashamed to stay any longer, left.

Yang Hu gave him a few more words of advice: this loophole, having been loosened once, could easily fall open again in the future.

When carrying loads or hauling goods, don't try to use brute force anymore. Just find a sturdy piece of cloth, sew a small bag to put the goods in, and that will be fine. Take good care of yourself these next few days and don't put heavy things on it.

Zhang Er supported his whole family with this carrying pole. He didn't charge much for the consultation; he just used the money for the medicine and took a small amount of copper coins.

"Be frugal!" He pushed away the loose change the shop assistant brought him. "Your health is the lifeblood of your whole family. You'd be better off buying me a nice piece of cloth to make a pouch."

The two men were stunned for a long time before they solemnly kowtowed to Yang Hu.

After everyone had left, Aji helped tidy up the two thin quilts and couldn't help but ask, "Master, that old doctor in the south of the city said he wanted to cut it open and remove it, but you didn't even touch a needle and thread, and you turned it back in just a few strokes. It's the same illness, so why are the methods so different?"

"It's the same disease, but neither of us has blocked or rotten intestines, so why should we have to undergo that surgery?" Yang Hu said slowly while washing his hands.

"His small intestine hadn't been stuck for long, the bleeding hadn't stopped, and it was still soft. We could have just pushed it back in through the opening. To operate at that moment would have meant cutting off a perfectly good section of intestine that could have been saved."

"When it's time to use a knife, there can be no hesitation; when it's not time to use a knife, it's best not to use it at all. Every cut leaves a wound on a person. Judging whether a cut is worth taking is much harder than daring to do it."

Aji didn't quite understand what he was hearing, but he imprinted those words deep in his mind.

The news spread throughout the main street in the west of the city that very day.

The servants and water carriers of wealthy families passed down the story that "Dr. Yang from the west of the city managed to unblock that stuck intestine without making a single cut," which became a legendary tale.

"Being able to take action and daring to take action is nothing special," some of the old men said slowly. "The real skill lies in clearly understanding whether or not to make a move."

The wealthy family from the west of the city, who had been secretly hesitating about whether to let the doctor from the Yang Clinic in the west of the city come to treat their illness, remembered the name "Doctor Yang of the West City" even more deeply after hearing what their subordinates said.

Three or four days later, Zhang Erge really did come again.

This time, he wasn't carried in; he strode in steadily, with a sturdy cloth bag hanging from his waist.

He didn't dare come in empty-handed, so he brought in some chicks, all of which he had raised himself. His face flushed, he insisted on giving some to Yang Hu.

"Dr. Yang, by giving me my life, I've saved my whole family." This rough man couldn't say anything nice; he just kept rubbing his hands together. "Please don't look down on these little chickens!"

No matter how much Yang Hu refused, he eventually kept a few chicks and let Yang Hu take the rest back.

However, Yang Hu also knew that the waters in the west of the city were much deeper than those in the east. As his fame grew, living under the noses of Prefect Zhao and the Prefectural Magistrate became increasingly conspicuous.

Before leaving, Zhang Erge said something: the owner of the clinic in the south of the city where he was taken away was actually a shop run by a respectable family in the west of the city.

Yang Hu held the teacup without responding, only slightly furrowing his brow.

Beneath the lips of these respectable people in the west of the city, gossip and accusations circulate, and not many clean things seem to happen.