Flip the table and divide the family property! Take his wife and daughter into the mountains and eat

"Brother Shanhe! I've brought the traditional Chinese medicine doctor for bone injuries!"

Dazhuang's shout immediately dispelled the oppressive atmosphere that had been suffocating everyone in the room.

Everyone suddenly came to their senses.

Zhao Shanhe turned his head to look.

Dazhuang, covered in snow and mud, dragged a thin, old man carrying a worn-out medical kit into the house.

"Slow down! Slow down! You damn fool, are you trying to pull a donkey?"

The gaunt old man started cursing as soon as he entered the door, but before he could finish his sentence, he looked up and bumped into a dozen rough men with bloodshot eyes and covered in blood.

The menacing look in their eyes hadn't completely dissipated as they stared intently at him.

The old man, however, was not paralyzed with fear like most people. His name was Yao Chunhai. In his early years, he was a military doctor who rescued wounded soldiers on the battlefield, stepping over piles of dead bodies. Later, he transferred to the Red Star Factory Medical Clinic. In his life, he had seen all sorts of bloody and gruesome scenes.

He only paused for a moment, his cloudy old eyes narrowed slightly, and he snorted coldly: "What's wrong? Either your arm or your brain is injured. Which position did you just retreat from? You've really gone to great lengths."

As he was about to walk forward, his gaze swept across the crowd and he suddenly caught sight of a person sitting on a wooden chair next to a hardboard bed.

The old man stopped abruptly, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets, and his voice cracking.

"Director Liang... Director Liang?! Weren't you locked up in solitary confinement? What are you doing here! How did you end up in such a terrible state?!"

Liang Tiejun looked at this old acquaintance, shook his head bitterly, and opened his mouth but before he could speak...

Dr. Yao took two quick steps and looked Liang Tiejun up and down.

The once robust old factory director now had sunken cheeks, his face covered with purplish bruises and whip marks, and he looked withered, as if his energy had been completely drained.

Liang Tiejun looked at this old acquaintance, shook his head bitterly, and opened his mouth but before he could speak...

Looking at his miserable state, Doctor Yao sighed deeply and waved his hand to stop the conversation: "Forget it, forget it. I don't want to know anything about all that mess outside. As long as you're alive, that's enough. I'll prescribe a good medicine for you later. Take it regularly and nourish yourself properly. You'll definitely be able to get your body back in shape."

Without uttering a word, Zhao Shanhe snatched the medicine box from the old man's body.

"Dr. Yao, let's talk about going to the hospital later, let's see him first."

Zhao Shanhe pointed to Erzhuzi on the bed, his voice hoarse: "He's injured in the head and has been unconscious for a while."

Dr. Yao followed his finger and, without saying another word, quickly walked to the hard bed.

Doctor Yao extended two rough fingers, first prying open Erzhuzi's eyelids to look at his pupils, then carefully pressing around the edge of the scab-covered wound with his fingertips, his face instantly turning ashen.

"A blunt force trauma resulted in a severe scalp tear; the edges already show signs of bone fracture!"

Dr. Yao shook the blood off his hands and rattled off his words at lightning speed: "The edges already look like a bone fracture. The most important thing now is to seal the wound with a strong hemostatic powder, add a high concentration of antibiotics to prevent infection, and then suture it with steel needles!"

Dr. Yao flung open his tattered medicine box, slapping his thigh in frustration: "But I was in such a rush that there's nothing in this box! Dazhuang, go to the state-run pharmacy on the street right now and ask Old Liu, who's on duty in the back, for two packets of high-purity hemostatic powder and some suture needles. Hurry!"

Upon hearing this, Dazhuang became so anxious that his eyes turned red, and he turned to run away.

"stop."

Zhao Shanhe grabbed Dazhuang's shoulder tightly.

He unzipped the canvas bag on his side and pulled out a small, palm-sized, army-green bag tightly wrapped in waterproof tarpaulin from the bottom, then threw it directly into Dr. Yao's arms.

Dr. Yao instinctively caught it, deftly opened the seal, and took out a small tin can with Russian writing on it.

He picked up a bit of white powder with his fingernail, brought it to his nose and smelled it hard. Then he stuck out his tongue and licked the residue. A glint of light flashed in his cloudy old eyes.

"High-purity sulfonamide powder? And this complete set of wound cleaning and suture needles..."

Dr. Yao abruptly looked up, his tone urgent and grave, tinged with barely concealed surprise: "A Soviet-made field first-aid kit? You're something else! You actually have this kind of valuable currency!"

Time was of the essence, so he stopped wasting time.

"Bring the hot water over! Hold his hands and feet firmly! Don't let him move."

Dr. Yao sprinkled large amounts of Soviet sulfanilamide powder onto the deep wound that exposed bone, quickly threaded a needle, and skillfully sutured and tightened it.

Erzhuzi, who had fainted, convulsed violently in pain, but was held down firmly by Lao Hei and the others.

After treating the wound, Dr. Yao was so exhausted that he was covered in sweat and plopped down on the edge of the bed.

"call……"

Dr. Yao wiped the sweat from his brow, his brow still furrowed, his tone extremely grave: "The external injuries are mostly managed, the bleeding has stopped. But the internal injuries are probably not so optimistic. We need to get an X-ray at a major hospital to check for any blood clots in the brain!"

He turned his head, looked around at the dozen or so men in the room, covered in blood and with their flesh torn open, and sighed heavily: "Also, with so many of you injured, I, an old man, can't handle it all by myself. You all need to go to the hospital for proper treatment!"

Upon hearing this, Liang Tiejun, who had been standing shoulder to shoulder with Zhao Shanhe, took a deep breath of cold air.

His previously swaying body straightened up abruptly.

"Go to the hospital for treatment."

Liang Tiejun strode past the crowd towards the door: "No matter what, let's go to the hospital and get well first, then we'll talk about the rest!"

Zhao Shanhe nodded.

He turned and walked to the corner of the wall, grabbed an old door panel leaning against the wall with both hands, and pulled hard.

Dazhuang immediately stepped forward, and the two of them laid the door panel flat on the ground. Lao Hei and Monkey pulled from both sides, steadily moving the unconscious Erzhuzi onto the door.

Zhao Shanhe and Dazhuang lifted the door panel one after the other and turned to walk out.

The men inside the house pulled their tattered cotton-padded coats tighter around themselves, helped each other, and followed. One by one, the group stepped out of the door.

Wang Xiumei stood by the door with an aluminum basin in her hand. Seeing Liang Tiejun about to step out, she quickly took two steps forward to catch up.

"Old Liang, aren't you going to eat before you leave?"

Wang Xiumei glanced at the hot soup noodles in the bowl: "There are a few eggs under the noodles."

Liang Tiejun, who was walking behind, stopped and turned back.

He walked up to Wang Xiumei, stopped, and glanced at her.

Then, his gaze fell on the large, chipped aluminum basin that was steaming.

"I was locked up inside for almost half a month, and all I could think about was this."

Liang Tiejun stretched out his hands, picked up the aluminum basin, and then took a few empty bowls and a pair of chopsticks from the stove.

"We can't waste it."

He turned around, braving the wind and snow pouring in from outside, and strode across the threshold.