When the sixth needle was inserted, Zhao Qingshan's wrist trembled slightly. Zhao Qingshan took a deep breath and paused for half a minute before inserting the needle.
Wen Yiran's condition requires two more injections to be safe, and Zhao Qingshan feels a little overwhelmed.
It seems I’m getting old! Zhao Qingshan sighed in his heart.
The most famous medical skill of the Zhao family is acupuncture.
Zhao's acupuncture differs from conventional Chinese medicine in that it utilizes the "qi" cultivated through martial arts to achieve optimal therapeutic effects. By attaching this "qi" to the silver needles and combining them with the practitioner's unique lifting, twisting, and squeezing techniques, the treatment can unblock the patient's meridians and activate blood circulation.
As we all know, the brain cannot lack oxygen. There are many blood vessels distributed in the brain, and blood circulation carries oxygen to various parts of the body.
At this moment, Wen Yiran's brain had several veins clogged with blood. Blocked veins could no longer carry blood and oxygen to the right places. Over time, without blood supply, these veins would gradually wither or die.
If it comes to that, Wen Yiran's fate can be imagined, either paralysis or death.
Zhao Qingshan and Wen Yiran have been friends for many years, so he naturally understands Wen Yiran's ambitions.
Wen Yiran was a good leader who cared about the people. Given his strength and age, he still had the potential to make further progress. Because of Wen Yiran's integrity and steadfastness, Zhao Qingshan hoped he would recover quickly.
At the height of Zhao Qingshan's martial arts prowess, he could imbue ten silver needles with "qi" at once. Ever since his knee injury, Zhao Qingshan's "qi" had been unable to flow through his knees. Consequently, over the years, his "qi" hadn't grown at all. On the contrary, starting three years ago, Zhao Qingshan felt his "qi" slowly draining away.
Zhao Qingshan had already formulated a treatment plan when he took Wen Yiran's pulse. He would first use eight silver needles to expel the "wind evil" from his brain, then use hollow silver needles to draw out the blood clots. But now, after using six needles, Zhao Qingshan was already exhausted. Missing two needles would more than double the effect. What should he do? Was he just going to watch all his efforts go to waste?
Zhao Qingshan stopped and frowned in thought.
"Grandpa, wipe your sweat." Wen Ziqing saw Zhao Qingshan's head full of sweat, and hurried to the bathroom to get a hot towel with hot water from the thermos.
Zhao Qingshan mechanically took the hot towel from Wen Ziqing's hand and wiped his forehead roughly.
Wen Ziqing waited until Zhao Qingshan finished wiping the sweat off his face before taking the towel from his hand.
The atmosphere in the ward was somewhat solemn. Hu Zhongliang saw that Zhao Qingshan looked unhappy, and his palms were sweating.
Hu Zhongliang couldn't help but feel a little regretful. If he had known this would happen, he shouldn't have dragged Zhao Qingshan into this situation and should have just announced that there was no way to treat him.
A doctor is like a parent, but it also depends on the person.
Wen Yiran wasn't an ordinary person, and Feng Xueying wasn't a clear-headed person. If Zhao Qingshan couldn't cure Wen Yiran, Feng Xueying would definitely not give up. In that case, Hu Zhongliang would be bringing disaster upon his teacher.
Sure enough, Feng Xueying couldn't help but get anxious when she saw Zhao Qingshan's serious face.
"Hey, Zhao Qingshan, can you really cure it? If you make our Lao Wen worse, I won't forgive you."
Feng Xueying spoke in a very aggressive tone, not caring about Dr. Hu and Dr. Qiu's reputation at all. In her opinion, Dr. Hu and Dr. Qiu had not stopped Zhao Qingshan from taking action, so they should bear the corresponding responsibility. Her son Wen was sent to the hospital for treatment, and Zhao Qingshan was not a doctor in the hospital. Dr. Hu's private request for Zhao Qingshan's help was a taboo in itself.
"It's worse than it actually is? How much worse can it get? If Teacher Zhao doesn't take action, do you think Mayor Wen can wake up?" Hu Zhongliang got angry when he heard that Feng Xueying's words didn't make sense.
In Wen Yiran's situation, if Zhao Qingshan was unwilling to intervene, Wen Yiran would just be lying on the hospital bed with an oxygen mask on, waiting to die. Doctors like them could cure illnesses, but they couldn't save lives.
"You...how can you talk like that? What do you mean my old Wen can't wake up? You have no moral ethics as a doctor." Feng Xueying's face turned pale with anger.
"What you say is not important. What matters is the result. Director Feng, you don't think Mayor Wen is just in a coma, do you? I told you yesterday that Mayor Wen had a cerebral hemorrhage. Do you understand what cerebral hemorrhage is? It's bleeding in the brain. Not one in ten people with this disease can wake up. If it weren't for Teacher Zhao's help, Mayor Wen would definitely be in danger this time." Hu Zhongliang didn't care who Feng Xueying was, and started talking nonstop.
Doctor Qiu stood aside, trying to persuade her several times but finding no opportunity. Feng Xueying's attitude was indeed a bit excessive. Saving the dying and the wounded was a doctor's duty, but the unreasonable behavior of the patient's family was something no doctor could tolerate.
"You...I..." Feng Xueying was so angry that she fell backwards, but she didn't know what to say. To be honest, Feng Xueying always regarded herself as an intellectual and was not good at quarreling.
The ward was in chaos, but Zhao Qingshan remained unmoved. After thinking for a long time, Zhao Qingshan finally made a bold decision.
"Ziqing, I need your help." Zhao Qingshan ignored the bickering between Hu Zhongliang and Feng Xueying, raised his head, stared into Wen Ziqing's eyes, and said seriously.
"Borrow some strength?" Wen Ziqing was a little confused.
"In a moment, transfer a little of your breath to me. It must be slow and continuous. It can't be too fast or too chaotic. Can you do it?" Zhao Qingshan knew that Wen Ziqing's "qi" had been refined to the thickness of chopsticks. With his help, Old Wen might still be saved.
Transferring Qi? Transmitting Kung Fu? Hu Zhongliang and Doctor Qiu were stunned. Then a trace of doubt came to their hearts: Is there such a unique skill in the world?
There was no need for Hu Zhongliang and Dr. Qiu to think about it secretly, because Wen Ziqing had already pulled out the square stool in front of Wen Yiran's bed and stood behind Zhao Qingshan.
Hu Zhongliang and Dr. Qiu stared at Wen Ziqing and Zhao Qingshan without blinking, afraid of missing anything. They were really curious about Zhao Qingshan's treatment method.
Wen Ziqing had been practicing internal energy for quite some time, so he naturally understood what Zhao Qingshan meant by "transferring Qi." He didn't understand acupuncture, but he knew that Zhao Qingshan and Wen Yiran's friendship was genuine. For Wen Yiran's sake, Wen Ziqing simply had to do as Zhao Qingshan said.
Zhao Qingshan, using Wen Ziqing's "qi", finally gave Wen Yiran the last two injections. Strangely enough, after the last needle entered Wen Yiran's brain, his face was no longer ashen, but gradually showed a hint of life.
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