After Exile, I Married the Amnesiac General [Rebirth] Chapter 3

Zhang Hu’s whole body jolted. He whipped his head around toward the source of the voice, his bloodshot eyes filled with disbelief.

The tent fell instantly silent. Even Zhang He’s cries seemed to soften.

Everyone turned to look.

At the rear of the crowd stood Li Chanxiu, a basket in his hands. He wore coarse, patched winter clothes, worn at the elbows and hem. Yet between his brows there was a clear, snow-like grace, and his gaze was steady.

They quickly recognized him as the exiled “young lady” who often came to change dressings for the wounded. Seeing that the one who spoke was such a young woman, disappointment inevitably flickered across their faces.

This young lady is likely just talking nonsense. She’s never even set foot on a battlefield, how could she possibly know how severe Zhang He’s injuries are?

“Hm? It’s you?” Physician Hu exclaimed in surprise.

He recognized the “young lady” before him. Over the past few days, while tending to the wounded soldiers, she had often come to his shop to collect medicine. Yet she never asked him to prescribe anything, each time she clearly listed the specific herbs she needed and the exact quantities.

From what she took, it was obviously a prescription for treating a common cold. However, the proportions of several ingredients differed from what Physician Hu was familiar with. Worried she might be using the wrong formula, he had even cautioned her. The “young lady” had only smiled at him without much explanation. The next day, she returned and gathered the same herbs as before.

Well, no one had died from taking it.

Physician Hu grew curious. Coincidentally, he had caught a mild cold two days earlier, so he tried the prescription himself. To his surprise, the effect was remarkably good. The next day he couldn’t help but ask her where the formula came from, only to learn that she had written the prescription for herself.

“My grandfather’s surname is Shen. He once served as an imperial physician in the palace. I was frail since childhood and learned a bit of medicine from him, just the basics,” Li Chanxiu had said at the time, smiling faintly.

The identity he had borrowed was indeed surnamed Shen, and his grandfather truly had been a palace physician. But Li Chanxiu’s medical skills did not come from him. They came from the traveling physician from the Central Plains who, in his dream, had wandered west with him into the lands of the Qiang.

For injuries like Zhang He’s, guts spilling from a torn abdomen, Li Chanxiu had not only watched that physician treat such wounds in his dream, but had also practiced suturing corpses under his guidance countless times. Later, when he eventually made his way back to the Central Plains and fought alongside his father’s former subordinates in the southwest against the Hu tribes, he had sutured soldiers around him who suffered similar wounds.

Of course, not every life could be saved. The traveling physician had told him that survival depended on the severity of the injury, some could be saved, others could not.

Just now, after carefully examining Zhang He’s wound, Li Chanxiu estimated he had a forty percent chance of saving him. If he possessed the same level of proficiency he had in that dream, the chances might be even higher.

“My grandfather was once an imperial physician,” his clear voice rang out again. Standing calmly amid the crowd, Li Chanxiu looked at them and repeated, “I studied medicine under him. I can try to save this man.”

His tone was steady as ever, and he used the same explanation he had given Physician Hu before.

Physician Hu, unaware of the truth and believing he only had superficial knowledge, likely that even the cold remedy had been taught by his grandfather, lowered his voice to advise him, “Miss, you mustn’t boast about something like this. If he can’t be saved, ”

After all, even the most skilled physicians built their expertise by treating countless patients and accumulating experience.

A young lady raised in the inner chambers, even if she had learned some medicine from her grandfather, would not have had many patients to treat. And such gruesome battlefield injuries were certainly not something a sheltered girl would ever encounter.

In all his years of practice, Physician Hu had never heard of someone surviving with their abdomen torn open and intestines severed.

But before he could finish speaking, Zhang Hu had already staggered to his feet. Like a drowning man clutching at a lifeline, he pushed through the crowd and rushed over.

“Miss, please save my younger brother! Please save him! Whether he lives or dies, I, Zhang Hu, will never forget your great kindness!” As he spoke, he was about to drop to his knees again.

Li Chanxiu, now bearing the status of a criminal’s family member, quickly stepped aside. “There’s no need for that. First, carry your little brother to a brighter spot and keep the crowd away. Also, slaughter a chicken and collect its blood. Prepare strong liquor and salt water…”

After giving his instructions one by one, he turned to the still-stunned Physician Hu and smiled slightly. “Physician Hu, may I borrow a needle?”

His gaze shifted to Hu Yuan’er who was carrying the medicine chest behind him.

Hu Yuan’er was only about ten years old, round-headed and round-faced. When he saw Li Chanxiu smiling at him, he froze on the spot.

Knowing that saving a life was urgent, Physician Hu nodded repeatedly. “Yes, yes. Hu Yuan’er, bring the medicine chest here at once.”

When his grandson remained rooted in place, he gave him a light smack. “What are you standing there for? Quickly, hand me the medicine chest!”

“Oh, oh!” Hu Yuan’er finally snapped back to his senses and hurriedly set down the chest he had been carrying.

The needle Physician Hu took out was not meant for suturing, but Li Chanxiu was not surprised. Though in the Great Zhou some had begun using needle and thread to stitch external wounds, Yongfeng Town was located in the remote northwest; they had likely never heard of such methods.

Li Chanxiu had learned of it in his dream. Fortunately, with a slight modification, Physician Hu’s needle would suffice.

He first adjusted the needle, then placed it together with a knife and scissors into boiling water to sterilize them. Next, he took out a small medicine bottle he carried with him. Inside was a coil of fine thread soaked in medicinal solution.

The thread was called mulberry bark thread. As its name implied, it was made by stripping the soft inner fibers from the root bark of a mulberry tree and hammering them into strands.

Mulberry bark had properties that cleared heat and detoxified. Thread made from it was smooth as silk, resistant to breaking, and could promote wound healing. Moreover, after suturing, the thread would gradually be absorbed into the flesh as the wound healed, eliminating the need for removal, making it especially suitable for stitching severed intestines.

Yongfeng Town had no shortage of mulberry trees, and the method for making this thread was simple. After waking from that prophetic dream, Li Chanxiu had prepared some according to the method he had seen in it. He had not expected to need them so soon.

He removed the fine thread and softened it over steam. Then he took the needle and tied the thread to its end, his expression focused.

“You’re actually going to stitch with thread?” Physician Hu, who had been watching from the side, was secretly astonished. Then he hesitated. “But intestines aren’t cloth, will sewing them up really work?”

At that moment, Aunt Xu, who had been brewing medicine in the pharmacy, hurried over as well, having heard what Li Chanxiu intended to do. Anxiety and worry were written plainly across her face.

Li Chanxiu smiled at her reassuringly, signaling her not to worry, then turned to Physician Hu and said, “In a moment, I’ll trouble you to hand me the knife and scissors when I need them.”

Physician Hu nodded repeatedly, saying “Of course, of course.”

By now, Zhang Hu and the others had carried Zhang He to a brighter place. The chicken blood and salt water were ready. They all looked toward Li Chanxiu anxiously, waiting for him to come over.

The other wounded soldiers had never seen such a scene before. Curious, they gathered around, though kept at a distance by Zhang Hu and his companions. They could only crane their necks to watch.

Li Chanxiu took a deep breath. His gaze gradually steadied. Under the watchful eyes of everyone present, he walked step by step to the wooden board where Zhang He lay.

Although he had sutured many times in his dreams, he had never done so in reality. He did not dare guarantee that he would truly succeed.

He had thought his heart would race, that his hands would tremble. Yet the moment he picked up the needle and thread, his mind became unexpectedly calm, and his hands were as steady as if he had already performed the procedure countless times in those dreams.

Perhaps they had not been dreams at all, but experiences he had once truly lived through.

Li Chanxiu slowly exhaled. After steadying his breathing, he looked toward the wound.

Zhang He was still being firmly held down by several men. The pain had twisted his face nearly beyond recognition; his reddened eyes bulged from congestion, filled with pleading and desperate hope as he stared at Li Chanxiu.

The cloth around his waist and abdomen had already been cut away and removed. The area around the wound had been wiped with strong liquor.

Calm and focused, Li Chanxiu examined the injury. Under the tense gazes of those beside him, he located the two severed ends of the intestine and swiftly began stitching.

His hand moved quickly and steadily, every stitch precise. The first two were slightly unfamiliar, but soon his movements flowed as though he had done this countless times before, smooth and effortless.

Zhang Hu and the others holding Zhang He’s limbs unconsciously held their breath, staring fixedly as the needle and thread moved nimbly back and forth. No one dared even breathe too loudly.

Before long, Zhang He fainted from the pain. The vast infirmary fell into complete silence; one could almost hear a needle drop.

Li Chanxiu’s expression was solemn and intent. His lowered lashes were long and thick, and there was a quiet, convincing strength between his brows and eyes.

“Scissors.”

After finishing the sutures, he suddenly spoke.

His tone was calm and steady. Without lifting his head, he extended a hand toward Physician Hu beside him.

Physician Hu had been watching in rapt attention. At the sound of his voice, he jolted back to his senses and hurriedly handed over the fine scissors. Though countless questions crowded his mind, he did not even dare breathe loudly at this moment.

Li Chanxiu neatly cut the thread and quickly applied chicken blood over the sutured area. The needle inevitably left tiny holes; the chicken blood would clot rapidly, reinforcing the sutures.

This completed only the first stage. Next, he had to stitch the abdominal wound itself. The abdominal layers had to be sewn from the inside outward, layer by layer. The suturing technique he used was also learned from that traveling physician, a staggered, interlocking method.

It was an immensely taxing task. Throughout the process, he remained utterly focused, immersed in a world of his own. Without realizing it, it was nearly noon.

Fine beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Perhaps because he was so absorbed, he spoke to those beside him just as he had in his dreams: “Wipe the sweat.”

The people nearby froze. Zhang Hu was the first to react and quickly picked up a cloth.

But before he could reach him, Aunt Xu hurriedly snatched it away. “Let me do it.”

After wiping his forehead, she felt a wave of relief. Thankfully I came, she thought. Otherwise, how could a young lady allow such a burly man to wipe her sweat?

Li Chanxiu was completely unaware of these thoughts. When he finished the final stitch and cut the thread, the sudden release of tension caused his vision to darken abruptly.

“Young lady!”

“Miss Shen!”

Cries of alarm rose around him as Li Chanxiu briefly lost consciousness.

It was Aunt Xu who reacted the fastest. Seeing him sway and about to collapse, she quickly reached out and caught him. Inwardly, she muttered, “Amitabha,” in relief. Thank goodness I came, otherwise the young lady wouldn’t even have someone to look after her now.

After all, it wouldn’t do to have these rough soldiers holding or carrying her.

Although Aunt Xu had recently suggested that Li Chanxiu marry a formidable military officer, she had taken one look at the men present and found them unsuitable. First, their ranks weren’t high enough to intimidate Centurion Jiang. Second, they were all big and coarse, not handsome enough. Not suitable, not suitable.

Li Chanxiu had only fainted briefly and soon regained consciousness. Perhaps because his cold had not fully recovered and he had exhausted too much mental energy, his face had turned as pale as snow, and his forehead was drenched in cold sweat. Physician Hu fed him half a bowl of sugar water, and only then did some color gradually return to his cheeks.

When he opened his eyes, Physician Hu and the others surrounding him all let out a breath of relief.

Zhang Hu was the most anxious. Seeing that he was all right, he finally relaxed, but then his face filled with urgency again, as if wanting to ask something. Yet, mindful that Li Chanxiu had just awakened, he hesitated to disturb him.

Li Chanxiu did not keep him waiting long. After finishing the remaining half bowl of sugar water, he looked up and instructed, “When your brother wakes, first cook some rice porridge for him. He must not eat solid food right away.”

Hearing this, Zhang Hu felt a sudden easing in his chest and asked excitedly, “Miss, no, benefactor, does that mean my brother is all right? He’s been saved?”

Li Chanxiu shook his head. “It’s too early to be certain. But as long as he can pull through the next few days, he should be fine.”

Though it was not a definitive answer, it was far better than Physician Hu’s earlier pronouncement of certain death.

Zhang Hu, though not entirely at ease, was so moved that he began thanking him profusely again.

Physician Hu was even more astonished. He had never imagined that the young lady could truly bring someone back from such an injury.

He was eager to ask for guidance, but before he could speak, the surrounding soldiers crowded in. Especially the wounded, each talking at once, chattering noisily like a flock of crows, 

“Miss Shen, did you really save that fellow?”

“Miss Shen, can your method also stitch other kinds of wounds?”

“Miss Shen, can you see if my arm can be stitched too?”

“Miss Shen, this wound of mine won’t stop bleeding because that quack surnamed Hu treated it, can you also…”

“Hey, hey! Who are you calling a quack?” Physician Hu waved them off irritably. “It’s not even an inch long, how has it not stopped bleeding? If you like, I can cauterize it with red-hot tongs. That’ll definitely stop it.”

The wounded soldiers burst into laughter.

Physician Hu deliberately kept a straight face and refused to banter further. Turning to Li Chanxiu, he immediately broke into a genial smile. “Young lady, you haven’t eaten yet, have you? Why not come with me and have a meal first?”

Li Chanxiu’s clear eyes lifted, and a faint smile curved his lips. “Then I shall trouble you, sir.”

In truth, even without the matter of the Zhang brothers, he had already planned to demonstrate his suturing technique before Physician Hu in the coming days.

His earlier visits to gather herbs and his preparation of mulberry bark thread had all been meant to pique the physician’s interest. Though events had unfolded differently than he expected, the result seemed even better than he had hoped.