The Overlord Flower's Guide to Intercepting a Woman's Wife's Death and the Male Lead&

Song Qingqing took off her stethoscope and made the final mark on the medical record.

"Congratulations, Sister Wu, you are about forty days pregnant and the fetal heartbeat is normal."

She tore off a page from the medical record and handed it over.

"Rest well during the first three months, avoid lifting heavy objects, and eat less pickled vegetables."

She paused for a moment, then smiled politely.

"Come see me for a follow-up appointment in two weeks."

Wu Qiuli took the paper, got off the examination bed, and turned to wave the paper in her hand at Su Xingmian.

"Mianmian, your pulse diagnosis is quite accurate. Forty days later, it's exactly the same as Comrade Song's diagnosis."

That was said casually.

Su Xingmian noticed that Song Qingqing's fingers tightened as she held the medical record book.

After all that effort, Song Qingqing's conclusion was exactly the same as someone else's three-finger gesture.

Song Qingqing smiled.

"Mianmian studied Traditional Chinese Medicine? Her basic skills are solid."

She hung the stethoscope back around her neck, her tone impeccably gentle.

"However, prenatal care should still be based on modern medical examinations. Pulse diagnosis can be used as a reference, but it cannot replace regular prenatal checkups."

Su Xingmian smiled even more sweetly than she did.

"Sister Song is right. I'm just an amateur, relying entirely on my grandmother's oral instruction. How can I compare to you, Sister, who has formal training?"

Wu Qiuli folded the medical record pages neatly and put them in her pocket without saying a word.

The three of them left the consultation room.

In the corridor, Wu Qiuli walked side by side with Su Xingmian, her voice lowered.

"Mianmian, did your grandma teach you any remedies for pregnant women to protect their pregnancy?"

Teach me later.

Su Xingmian took her arm.

"OK."

Behind her, Song Qingqing stood at the door of the clinic, the mechanical voice echoing in her mind.

"System, what does Wu Qiuli mean? She'd rather believe a country girl than a specialist doctor like me?"

[Host, Wu Qiuli's trust in Su Xingmian is increasing faster than expected, and a preliminary social bond has been formed.]

Song Qingqing's eyelashes drooped slightly.

[Wu Qiuli has been detected as a pragmatist. It is recommended that the host use professional guidance during pregnancy as a starting point to continuously provide tangible benefits and gradually replace Su Xingmian's social position.]

Su Xingmian mentally crossed out this plan.

Wu Qiuli brought her honey; she spoke frankly and acted with tact.

She loves it.

She and her unborn child were protected by the Queen of the Night.

No matter who tries to persuade you, it won't work.

Su Xingmian helped Wu Qiuli step out of the sanitation team's door.

Within the range of the demonic energy's perception, a bloody aura swept over.

She paused in her steps.

The scent came quickly and urgently; before she could discern its source, the sanitation team's door was slammed open from the outside.

A young soldier rushed in, his hat askew, his face covered in sweat, and his voice cracking.

"Doctor! Doctor! My wife is dying!"

Zhou Bingwen was the first to rush out of the orthopedic clinic.

"What happened?"

"My wife was in pain all night, and the midwife said the baby wouldn't come down, there was blood..."

He swallowed, his whole body trembling.

"There's so much blood..."

Zhou Bingwen grabbed his shoulder.

"Where is he?"

"The next company, third platoon, number two."

"Walk!"

Zhou Bingwen picked up his medical kit and ran out, while Song Qingqing followed with her things.

Su Xingmian and Wu Qiuli exchanged a glance and followed.

……

The gate to the courtyard was open, and the cries could be heard from the alley entrance.

Upon entering the room, the stench of blood mixed with the smell of sweat assaulted my senses.

The new mother, Chen Xiaoqin, lay on the kang (a heated brick bed). She was twenty-two years old, her face pale, and her wet hair stuck to her forehead in clumps.

Two midwives squatted on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), one holding a basin and the other holding the new mother's hand.

The new mother-in-law, around fifty years old, was squatting at the foot of the kang (a heated brick bed). Her lips were trembling, and her hands were twisted inside her apron.

The husband stood at the door, his lips pale and bloodless, his feet planted firmly on the threshold.

Zhou Bingwen examined it for a minute, then stood up with a sullen face.

"Horizontal position".

Song Qingqing stepped forward to take over, making a more detailed assessment.

"The cervix is ​​dilated to three centimeters, and it's been more than six hours. The contractions are weak."

She withdrew her hand, her tone becoming serious.

"If this continues, both the mother and child will be in danger; a cesarean section is necessary."

The moment the word "dissect" was uttered, the mother-in-law bent her knees and knelt directly on the ground.

"Doctor, you can't do it! It'll ruin the person!"

The woman in labor was in so much pain she was almost fainting. When she heard that word, she clung tightly to the edge of the bed.

"No incision...no incision..."

Song Qingqing squatted down to be at eye level with her mother-in-law and explained the risks again.

The mother-in-law wouldn't listen at all and kept banging her forehead on the ground.

"I've begged you, doctor, please think of another way..."

Song Qingqing stood up and took half a step back.

What needed to be said has been said, and what needed to be done has been done.

The rest were outside her scope of responsibility.

From the moment Su Xingmian entered the room, she unleashed her demonic power.

The contents of the mother's abdominal cavity are clearly visible.

The fetus is in a transverse position, with the head under the left rib and the buttocks on the right side. The umbilical cord is in a normal direction and is not wrapped around the neck. The amniotic fluid is low but not dangerously low.

The fetal heart rate is 162 per minute, which is a bit fast and indicates a potential distress, but it is not yet irreversible.

Su Xingmian walked to the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) and squatted down, taking the new mother's sweaty fingers in his hand.

The moment the palm touched it, a wisp of plant energy seeped in.

The woman's tense facial features relaxed slightly.

"Sister-in-law, can I give it a try?"

The new mother's fingers gripped her tightly.

Su Xingmian stood up.

"Bingwen, give me twenty minutes."

Song Qingqing raised her hand.

"no."

Her voice was crisp and clear.

"A transverse lie is not a sign of a cold or fever. Unprofessional handling can lead to placental abruption or uterine rupture, with irreversible consequences."

She looked at Su Xingmian.

"Mianmian, I know you know acupuncture, but this is a matter of life and death."

Su Xingmian's demonic power was always attached to Song Qingqing.

The mechanical voice was echoing in her mind.

[The host's assessment is correct; the risk for the transverse lie is extremely high.]

If the other party insists on non-standard operating procedures that lead to an accident, Su Xingmian will bear full responsibility.

[If a mother or infant dies, their reputation in the area will be wiped out.]

[It is recommended that the host maintain an opposing stance, preserve a professional image, and observe the outcome.]

On the surface, they showed concern, but inwardly they were waiting to see what would happen.

Su Xingmian was too lazy to pay attention to it; getting angry with an invasive species would be a waste of her demonic power.

Zhou Bingwen stood in the middle, his expression shifting three times.

Song Qingqing makes a good point.

If he were the attending physician, and an eighteen-year-old girl asked me to come, he would have stopped her.

But two images flashed through his mind.

Grandpa was in so much pain that his face was contorted. Nine silver needles were lined up in a row, and two shrapnel fragments pierced through his skin.

The girl was on the verge of death in the cellar, and Su Xingmian used a needle to pull her back from the brink of death.

He gritted his teeth.

"Second sister-in-law, you try it."

He paused for a moment.

"If you can't do it, don't force yourself. I'll stay here and watch over you."

Song Qingqing smiled slightly, then remained silent, taking a half-step back to lean against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest.

Su Xingmian didn't look at her again.

The needle pouch is opened.

Zhou Bingwen was startled.

He remembers.

That night in the capital, when treating his grandfather's leg, he counted with his own eyes the nine silver needles in the needle pouch, which varied in thickness, the longest being nearly five inches and the shortest less than an inch.

Nine roots.

He remembers it perfectly clearly.

Now, in the needle pouch laid out in front of him, two neat rows of silver needles were arranged.

He counted it once, and then counted it again.

Twelve roots.

There are three more.

The three new needles are thinner than the original ones, and their tips have a very faint bluish-green tinge.

Nine roots become twelve roots, where did these three roots come from?

There are no facilities for making silver needles here, and I didn't see any tools in my sister-in-law's luggage.

He had wanted to ask for a long time what material these silver needles were made of, since they looked neither gold nor wood.

After a moment's thought, I realized the mother's well-being was more important, and ultimately refrained from asking.

Su Xingmian pulled out the first needle, held the needle tip between her fingers, squatted down next to the woman in labor, and placed her other hand on her swollen belly.

The fetal heart rate is 165, and it has increased by three beats.

She did not hesitate.

The first needle fell.