The entire village seemed to have been pulled back from the brink of death and was revitalized.
Soon, the first batch of steaming hot barley flour paste was ready.
The rich aroma made everyone swallow hard. As the warm food slid down their throats, dispelling some of the chill and hunger, many people clutched their bowls and wept again.
Only when you're full do the hopes of surviving become real.
Su Tang did not rest. She cleaned up a relatively intact stone house, lit several fires, and temporarily converted it into an emergency room.
The wounded were carried in one after another. Whether it was knife wounds from being slashed by bandits, fractures from being hit by stones, or severe frostbite, each one was shocking to see.
“Sister Divine Messenger, look at my brother, he… is he dying?” A Tibetan girl cried, pointing at the man on the stretcher. The man’s calves were smashed by stones, and the flesh was already turning black. He was also in a semi-comatose state due to blood loss and infection.
In the villagers' eyes, this injury was like a death sentence, no different from waiting to die.
Su Tang squatted down, her brows furrowed.
The situation was worse than she had imagined. If it wasn't treated soon, he would definitely lose his leg, and the infection caused by the necrosis would soon kill him.
"Don't be afraid, I'm here, your brother won't die." Su Tang's voice wasn't loud, but it was unusually calm and had a soothing power.
She turned to Qin Ye and said, "Help me guard the door and don't let anyone in to disturb us."
Qin Ye nodded, standing like an iron tower guarding the doorway.
Su Tang started taking things out of her seemingly ordinary military green canvas bag.
A bottle of disinfectant, a pack of sterile gauze, a pair of oddly shaped surgical scissors and tweezers, and even needles and thread for suturing wounds.
The entire procedure—cleaning, disinfecting, repositioning bone fragments, and removing necrotic tissue—was performed flawlessly.
The villagers initially only dared to watch from afar at the doorway, but when they witnessed firsthand how the seriously injured man, who was on the verge of death, gradually regained his breathing and color in his face under Su Tang's care, they were deeply moved.
The villagers were once again convinced of her identity as a messenger of the mountain god.
Just then, a villager walked in, carrying a lump of iron that had been smashed and deformed, looking utterly despondent.
“My lord… this is the only radio in the village, and it’s been broken for ages… We… we’ve completely lost contact with the outside world…”
Qin Ye's eyes narrowed.
The old village chief also came over, looked at the lump of scrap metal, and sighed deeply:
"Sigh, this was a treasure that the army gave us as a gift when they came down to comfort us. A few years ago, it was accidentally dropped and never worked again. We have several truck drivers in our poor mountain village who have come to take a look, and they all said that the parts inside are broken, there are no replacement parts available, and it can't be repaired."
The implication is that this thing is already dead and completely beyond saving.
Under the watchful eyes of the old village chief and several villagers, Qin Ye took the lump of scrap metal and simply said, "I'll give it a try."
Su Tang took out a small screwdriver, a pair of needle-nose pliers, and a roll of black tape from her small backpack. These were all repair tools she had just exchanged from her spatial storage, and they were all requested by Qin Ye.
Qin Ye took the tools, not minding the dirt on the ground, and squatted down. By the light of the fire, he quickly disassembled the radio's casing.
His fingers were long and strong, yet his movements were exceptionally agile. Tightening screws, connecting wires, inspecting circuit boards... a series of operations that dazzled the eyes.
To everyone else, he had simply fiddled with it for a bit and connected two wires that looked almost identical.
But just as he wrapped the last copper wire with tape and reassembled the casing...
Suddenly, a slight "buzzing" sound rang out.
On the radio panel, the red indicator light that had been off for who knows how long suddenly flashed and then... steadily lit up!
"It's lit! It's lit! Good heavens!" The old village chief was so excited that his beard was trembling. He pointed at the small red light and could barely speak.
Qin Ye immediately turned on the radio, skillfully adjusted the frequency, picked up the microphone, and calmly and clearly sent out a distress signal using standard military communications terminology.
"Calling the 52nd Division Command, calling the Military Region Command! This is Qinye, please respond! Repeat, this is Qinye, please respond!"
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