After being separated from my family, I became a darling of the military region thanks to my medical

When the stretcher reached the halfway point down the slope, Tian Xiaobao's body suddenly stiffened.

Two small hands clenched and gripped the edge of the quilt, knuckles arched, veins bulging from under the skin, as thin as sewing needles.

Gao Haiping shouted "Stop!"

Tian Gensheng and the young man who was helping stopped at the same time. The door panel shook slightly, and Ye Zhen had already squatted down next to the stretcher.

Her fingers rested on the side of the child's neck, her index and middle fingers pressing on the carotid pulse point, her eyes fixed on Tian Xiaobao's lips.

The bluish-black color is fading, not in a positive direction, but sinking into a deeper color—iron gray, with a layer of bloodless white.

"160 and above."

Ye Zhen reported her heart rate.

Gao Haiping bent down to touch the child's fingers, and his expression changed the moment he touched them.

"The extremities are completely cold."

Tian Xiaobao's breathing was no longer normal; it was gasping and throbbing, as if his throat was being choked and then released, then choked again and released again, each breath lasting less than half a second.

Cuihong stood to the side, her face draining of color, her mouth agape, her hand outstretched but hesitant to touch anything.

"sister in law."

Ye Zhen called out to her, speaking quickly but clearly.

"Come here, squat down over here, push his knees towards his chest, hold them down when they're in place, don't let go."

Cuihong's hands trembled violently. When she squatted down, her knees hit the stone. She didn't say anything, but held her son's calves with both hands and bent them up until her knees were close to her chest.

"Hold it down, don't let go."

Cuihong gripped the fabric tightly, her fingernails digging into the cotton-padded jacket.

Ye Zhen placed her right palm on Tian Xiaobao's abdomen and applied gentle pressure. The pressure was not strong but steady, and each press had a uniform rhythm, as if she were helping a pump that was about to stop to pump blood back.

Three seconds passed, and the child's lips showed no sign of changing color. His breathing remained intermittent, halting in his throat.

Ye Zhen turned her head and glanced at the wooden box in Liu Xiaolan's arms.

"Xiao Lan, open the box and find Alamin."

Liu Xiaolan's hands were trembling, but she was, after all, a nurse trained by the General Hospital of the Military Region. She knelt down on the ground, snapped open the brass clasps of the wooden box, lifted the top layer of gauze rolls and iodine bottles, and rummaged through the bottom medicine compartment to find a row of brown ampoules.

She flicked the label off the glass bottle with her index finger, her voice strained: "Aramine, 10 mg per vial, found."

"Break off one."

Liu Xiaolan took out a grinding wheel from the cloth bag inside the box lid, scratched the neck of the ampoule, snapped the neck off, and then took out a 2 ml glass syringe and a No. 4 half scalp needle from the medicine compartment and handed them to Ye Zhen.

Ye Zhen's left hand never left the child's abdomen, while her right hand used her teeth to bite open the syringe cap and draw 0.3 ml of medicine.

"Saline solution".

Liu Xiaolan unscrewed a small bottle of saline solution and handed it to Ye Zhen. Ye Zhen drew 1 ml of saline solution into the syringe with one hand, flicked the tube wall with her thumb, and pushed out half a drop as the air bubble rose to the top.

Gao Haiping lowered his voice: "Dosage?"

"Based on an estimated 8 kilograms, administer 0.1 milligrams first, push it over 30 seconds, and then observe the reaction."

Ye Zhen placed the diluted syringe on the folds of the quilt, took the scalp needle, tore open the packaging, removed her left hand from the child's abdomen, and turned Tian Xiaobao's hand over.

I can't see anything.

The skin was bluish-gray and dull, and the subcutaneous blood vessels had all shrunk in, so much so that they could not be found at all.

Any ordinary doctor would be completely at a loss to perform this injection.

Liu Xiaolan held her breath.

Ye Zhen placed her index and middle fingers on the back of the child's hand, slowly sliding them upwards from the knuckles, pressing her fingertips against the skin to feel the subtle elasticity beneath.

Her fingertips paused for a moment in the depression between the second and third metacarpal bones.

It wasn't his eyes that gave him the power, but the hands that had performed thousands of delicate surgeries.

The iodine-soaked cotton ball was applied to the skin, but before the iodine dried, the needle tip had already gone in.

The angle is extremely shallow, almost touching the skin surface, and the needle penetrates less than three millimeters.

The money has been recovered.

Dark purple blood gushed up along the thin tube, like an extremely fine ink line.

Liu Xiaolan let out a long sigh of relief and hurriedly tore off a strip of tape, handing it over. Ye Zhen used the tape to secure the butterfly-shaped needle wings to the back of the child's hand, attached the syringe, and pressed down on the piston with her thumb.

Push it in little by little.

"slow."

She uttered only one word.

Gao Haiping squatted on the other side, his fingers resting on the child's radial artery, his eyes fixed on Ye Zhen's thumb, silently counting along.

ten seconds.

Fifteen seconds.

Twenty seconds.

Ye Zhen's thumb moved forward at a steady pace, the scale on the piston climbing forward one mark at a time, as steady as if she were holding not a syringe, but a suture thread that had been used tens of thousands of times on the operating table.

Twenty-five seconds.

Thirty seconds, all done.

Ye Zhen pulled out the syringe, attached a short section of saline tubing, and slowly flushed the passageway before pressing her palm back into the child's abdomen.

Tian Xiaobao struggled twice under her hand, letting out a very faint whimper, like a newborn kitten whose tail had been stepped on. The sound was so faint that it was almost inaudible, yet it gripped the hearts of everyone present.

Then he went limp.

Cuihong's scream burst from her throat, high-pitched and shrill.

"Xiao Bao!"

Tian Gensheng rushed over, stepped on a stone, stumbled, and scrambled to the side of the stretcher.

"Don't move."

Ye Zhen's voice wasn't loud, but those two words were like two nails, pinning Tian Gensheng to a step away from the stretcher.

His hand hung in mid-air, his five fingers outstretched, unable to catch it or retract it.

Ye Zhen didn't look up at him. Her attention was entirely focused on the small abdomen beneath her palm, feeling the rise and fall of the abdominal wall and the faint throbbing from deep within.

one second.

Five seconds.

ten seconds.

Liu Xiaolan's knuckles turned white as she gripped the pen, and she stopped writing halfway through her work in the notebook.

Twenty seconds.

Thirty seconds.

Gao Haiping squatted on the other side, his fingers never leaving the child's radial artery.

At the forty-second mark, Tian Xiaobao's chest twitched.

It was shallow, but it moved.

The second stroke was a little deeper than the first.

The third breath brought out a complete exhale, short and weak, but continuous from beginning to end.

Ye Zhen didn't move her hand away. She listened for a few seconds, then looked down at the child's lips.

The iron gray faded, returning to its previous bluish-black hue.

There has been no improvement.

It's just that I've returned to the state I was in before the attack.

Ye Zhen withdrew her hand, wiped the sweat from her palms on her trouser leg, carefully removed the scalp needle from the back of her hand, pressed the needle hole with a cotton ball, and looked up at Gao Haiping.

"Old Gao, he needs oxygen."

Gao Haiping's lips twitched, his Adam's apple bobbed, and three seconds later he nodded.

Cuihong was still holding her son's knees, trembling all over, tears dripping from her chin onto the collar of her cotton-padded coat.

Tian Gensheng squatted on the ground, his hands supporting his knees, his head buried between his arms, his shoulders heaving, it was hard to tell whether he was panting or crying.