Days passed like this, filled with patching things up and eating and drinking.
Inside Su Jinxiu’s medical space, her pitiful amount of merit points had not moved at all. These past few days, aside from Huo Chen—the stubborn “long-term patient”—she hadn’t encountered any emergencies.
No patients meant no merit. No merit meant no antibiotics.
Although Huo Chen’s wounds were healing well and there were no serious complications, injuries of that severity still carried risks without anti-inflammatory medicine.
Su Jinxiu felt a little anxious.
That afternoon, she was considering whether to set up a street stall in town for free clinic work when the courtyard gate was suddenly slammed so hard it seemed like it would break.
“Madam Su! Madam Su, are you here? Help!”
The voice was choked with panic, clearly a young man.
Su Jinxiu’s eyes lit up. She threw aside the needlework in her hands—she had been sewing new pants for Huo Chen, though the stitches looked like centipedes crawling—and rushed to open the door.
“I’m coming!”
Outside stood Zhang the Butcher from the east end of the village.
A man who usually slaughtered pigs and sheep, tall and sturdy, now drenched in sweat. He was clutching one wrist tightly, blood pouring through his fingers like it cost nothing. His face was pale as paper.
“Madam Su! I heard you can stop bleeding… please… please take a look! I slipped while chopping bones and cut my hand with the cleaver—won’t stop bleeding!” His voice trembled.
This hand was how he made a living. If it was ruined, his whole family would starve.
“Come in!”
Su Jinxiu instantly switched into work mode.
She dragged him inside and pressed him onto the broken wooden stool they used for meals.
“Don’t move! Let go of your hand, let me see.”
Zhang the Butcher tremblingly released his grip.
Good heavens.
A deep gash lay across the back of his hand, bone visible, tendons severed. White bone fragments were exposed, and blood was still spurting—clearly an arterial injury.
“So this is what you call ‘slipping’?” Su Jinxiu frowned. “What, did you have a grudge against pigs or against yourself?”
Though she complained, her hands moved swiftly.
She pulled a silver needle from her sleeve—actually taken from her space—and quickly inserted it into Neiguan and Quchi acupoints on his arm.
“Ah—numb!” Zhang the Butcher screamed.
“Good. That’s exactly what I want. It blocks nerve transmission, or you’d pass out from pain when I stitch you up.”
She didn’t even turn her head. “Husband! Bring me the liquor bottle! And a fire starter!”
Huo Chen pushed his wheelchair out, holding the remaining cheap liquor.
He glanced at the mangled wound, then at Su Jinxiu’s steady hands.
In normal circumstances, an ordinary doctor would have just applied hemostatic powder and bandaged it. But this woman…
Su Jinxiu took a gulp of alcohol and spat it directly onto the wound.
Zhang the Butcher convulsed in pain and almost screamed, but Huo Chen gave him a cold glance.
“Shut up.”
The murderous aura in that look was so intense that Zhang the Butcher forcibly swallowed his scream, turning it into a strangled chicken-like noise.
“Bear with it. I’m reconnecting your tendons.”
From her ever-present cloth bag, Su Jinxiu pulled out gleaming surgical scissors and suturing needles.
In a world without microscopes, tendon repair depended entirely on skill and feel.
In Su Jinxiu’s vision, the hand was no longer flesh and blood, but a clear three-dimensional structure.
[Scanning vision activated. Tendon rupture: 70%. Immediate suturing recommended.]
She took a deep breath and held her focus.
The needle passed through the slippery torn tendon, knotting and fixing it. Every stitch was precise to the extreme.
Huo Chen watched from the side.
He saw the fine beads of sweat on her forehead. He saw those hands—once seemingly meant only for embroidery—now moving calmly through flesh and blood with shocking precision and control.
That calmness even surpassed the old battlefield medics he had seen before.
Military doctors saved people so they could return to battle—brutal and efficient. But she repaired people like fixing a delicate porcelain object, not missing a single detail.
“Done.”
After the time it took to burn an incense stick, Su Jinxiu cut the final thread and let out a long breath.
The wound was neatly stitched, like a crawling centipede. The bleeding had completely stopped.
She applied medicinal powder, then wrapped the hand in clean white cloth until it looked like a dumpling.
“Don’t get it wet for half a month, don’t use force. That finger may feel numb—that’s nerve damage. It’ll recover about seventy to eighty percent with time. If you ever dare chop bones again, even the gods won’t save you.”
Zhang the Butcher looked at his saved hand and burst into tears of gratitude.
“Thank you! Thank you, Madam Su! I… I didn’t bring money…”
He patted himself frantically, embarrassed.
“No money?” Su Jinxiu raised a brow, about to flare up.
“But I have meat!” Zhang the Butcher slapped his thigh. “I just slaughtered a pig! Whatever cuts you want, just take them!”
Su Jinxiu’s expression immediately cleared like clouds parting.
“How could I possibly take advantage of you like that?” she said, smiling sweetly. “Since you’re so generous, I can’t refuse.”
“Perfect—I want braised spare ribs, and two sets of pork kidneys for my husband… to nourish his kidney qi.”
Huo Chen: “……”
【Ding—Successful treatment of a critically injured patient detected. Merit points gained: 100.】
Listening to the beautiful system notification in her mind, Su Jinxiu watched as butcher Zhang left with endless gratitude, her mood greatly improved.
With these 100 points, plus her previous balance, she could finally exchange for the “wild survival emergency kit” she had been eyeing for a long time. Inside it was a multifunctional military knife and antibiotic ointment!
She turned around and happened to meet Huo Chen’s deep gaze.
“What? Falling for my heroic performance just now?” Su Jinxiu was in a good mood and couldn’t help teasing him.
Huo Chen looked at the blood bead accidentally splattered on her face, and unlike usual, he did not mock her.
Instead, he reached out and gently wiped it away with his rough fingertips.
The movement was light, awkward, and unfamiliar—yet it made Su Jinxiu’s heartbeat skip.
“Su Jinxiu,” he said softly, his voice carrying an unusual seriousness. “Your hands are indeed very steady.”
These hands could kill, could save lives, and could even… cook braised pork ribs.
Huo Chen felt that in this absurd place of exile, he might have picked up an extraordinary treasure.
Even if this treasure was a bit noisy—and a bit greedy for money.
“That goes without saying,” Su Jinxiu coughed awkwardly, avoiding his unusually intense gaze. “Alright, enough mushy talk. Butcher Zhang will bring the meat later. Let’s go bury those bamboo traps first. We’re having meat tonight.”
As the sun set, their shadows overlapped in the courtyard.
The sound of sharpening knives, stir-frying food, and occasional bickering filled the once-dead yard with the warmth of living people.
PS: The newly obtained “wild survival emergency kit” doesn’t just contain antibiotic ointment—the multifunctional military knife is a real killer tool! Guess who will be the next unlucky one to use it?