Sent to the countryside, I turned the health center into a top-tier hospital.

Chen Ping stood at the door, watching the blood trickle down the woman's nose, the child's bewildered face, and the increasingly weak snoring coming from the man's throat on the bed.

The sounds mingled together and poured into his ears, like someone was hitting his chest with a hammer, again and again.

The woman suddenly raised her head, her face covered in a mixture of blood and tears, her eyes almost closed, but she saw Chen Ping.

She paused for a second, then got up from the ground, grabbed the child, and staggered to Chen Ping's side, where she knelt down with a thud.

This time he knelt even harder, his knees hitting the floor tiles with a dull thud that made one's heart tighten.

"Dr. Chen, please save him... You said you could cure him... I didn't believe you the day before yesterday, I'm a bastard, I'm not human... Please save him, I beg you to save him..."

The child also knelt down, his little knees hitting the ground, tears streaming down his face, crying out, "Uncle, save my dad."

The mother and daughter knelt at the doorway, their foreheads pressed to the ground, too afraid to get up.

The corridor fell silent, and all eyes were on Chen Ping.

Chen Ping looked at them but didn't move.

He glanced at her for two seconds, then walked past her and into the ward.

He walked to the bedside and reached out to unplug the wires of the monitoring equipment.

The moment his fingers touched the first line, Director Qian rushed in, grabbed his wrist, and held it tightly.

"Chen Ping, have you gone mad?"

Director Qian glared at him. "These things can't be touched! The pharmaceutical company's people are coming soon. If you tamper with the data, this clinical trial will be ruined, and you'll bear all the responsibility. You're not a doctor at the hospital; can you handle that?"

Chen Ping looked into Director Qian's eyes, which held anxiety, fear, and a hint of pleading.

That was the fear of the word "responsibility" that someone who had spent half their life in the system had.

"Director Qian, let go," Chen Ping said calmly.

"I won't loosen my grip. If you move and something happens to the patient, who will be responsible? You? What will you use to take responsibility?" Director Qian roared.

Chen Ping didn't argue with him anymore.

He gently pried Director Qian's hand off his wrist, the movement light but firm.

He pried open each finger one by one, but by the time he got to the third finger, Director Qian's hand was too weak.

Chen Ping unplugged the monitoring equipment wires one by one, turned off the power to the infusion pump, and took the infusion bottle with the pharmaceutical company's label off the shelf and placed it on the bedside table.

The beeping alarms stopped abruptly, and the ward was so quiet that the man's breathing could be heard, one breath at a time, growing weaker and weaker.

Chen Ping turned around and looked at Director Qian.

Director Qian stood by the bed, his hands hanging down, his expression complex, a mixture of helplessness, worry, and a vague feeling of something blocking his way.

I will take full responsibility.

After saying this, Chen Ping took out his needle case from his pocket, unfolded it, and pulled out the longest needle.

This kit was given to Cui Ying by Chen Ping when he asked her to bring him lunch, just in case, for Cui Ying's father to use.

Director Qian opened his mouth as if to say something, but didn't.

He took two steps back, leaned against the wall, put his hands in the pockets of his white coat, and clenched his fists.

Chen Ping unbuttoned the man's clothes, revealing his emaciated chest, with ribs showing one by one, and his skin a waxy yellow, clinging to the bones.

He inserted the silver needles, the first at Zhongwan, the second at Guanyuan, and the third at Qihai.

The depth, angle, and direction of the needle tip entering the skin are all different for each needle, and they are all drawn from the "library" in the brain.

His hands were steady, just as steady as when he was giving Old Zhou acupuncture in the teahouse the day before yesterday, but he knew that this was not the same thing.

Old Zhou's illness was caused by nerve compression; once the nerves were unblocked, the blockage was cleared.

This person's illness is that all five internal organs are failing and his vital energy is about to be depleted. What he can do is not to cure the disease, but to save his life.

When the third needle was inserted, the man's throat moved slightly, and his snoring subsided.

The fourth and fifth needles are inserted at Zusanli and Taichong.

The sixth and seventh needles are inserted at Neiguan and Hegu.

When the twelfth needle was inserted, the man's chest rose and fell slightly, not in a convulsive way, but as if he had taken a deep breath and slowly exhaled, like the first breath of a drowning person after being pulled out of the water.

The numbers on the electrocardiogram monitor have changed.

My heart rate dropped from 170 to 120, and then from 120 to 110.

My blood pressure has stabilized and stopped dropping.

The man's half-open eyes slowly closed; he hadn't fainted, he had fallen asleep.

His breathing became even, the noise in his throat stopped, and the expression on his face changed from pain to calm.

Chen Ping collected the needles one by one, wiped them clean, and put them back in the needle case.

He turned around and looked at the woman.

The woman was still kneeling in the corridor, the child's face pressed against her arm, tears still flowing, but silent.

"Get up, your man won't die."

Chen Ping stepped forward and helped the woman and child up. "With proper care, they should be able to live for several more months."

"If treatment continues and the patient's physical condition is good, living for several years, or even more than ten years, is not a problem."

The woman's mouth was agape, her face filled with disbelief.

But now that the facts are right in front of her, she has no choice but to believe them.

The woman's tears fell again, but this time it wasn't crying; it was the kind of crying that had been bottled up for too long and finally found an outlet, making her tremble all over.

"Dr. Chen, thank you, thank you..."

The woman was about to kneel down again.

At this moment, a woman has really nothing to express except kneeling before someone.

Chen Ping grabbed her arm, preventing her from kneeling.

"Stop kneeling, go inside and see your man."

The woman nodded and led the child into the ward.

She squatted by the bed, held the man's hand, looked at him for several seconds, then buried her face in the edge of the bed, her shoulders trembling, and fell silent.

The child climbed onto the foot of the bed, leaned against the man's legs, and touched the man's feet with his little hands, as if to make sure that his father was still there.

Chen Ping stood at the door. People in the corridor hadn't left yet. Some were talking quietly, some were wiping their eyes, and some were giving Chen Ping a thumbs up.

Chen Ping didn't look at them, and turned to leave.

Director Qian chased after him from the ward and called out to him in the middle of the corridor.

Chen Ping stopped but didn't turn around.

Director Qian walked over to him, stood for a few seconds, took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, took one out and put it in his mouth, and then handed one to Chen Ping.

"Come on, let's go to the stairwell..." Director Qian called to Chen Ping to go to the stairwell to smoke.

Chen Ping, holding a cigarette, followed Director Qian into the stairwell.

Upon arriving at the stairwell, Director Qian lit a fire for Chen Ping, and then lit one for himself.

After taking a deep breath, he finally spoke, "Chen Ping, you just said you'd take responsibility, but what will you use to take it?"

Chen Ping, with a cigarette dangling from his lips, looked at Director Qian and smiled slightly, saying, "Take responsibility with your conscience."

Director Qian paused for a moment, then smiled.

The smile wasn't deep, but it was different from his expression in the ward earlier; he seemed relaxed.

He patted Chen Ping on the shoulder and said, "You're bound to get into trouble sooner or later."

"We'll deal with it if something goes wrong," Chen Ping said nonchalantly.

Chen Ping took a few puffs of his cigarette, threw it away and extinguished it, then returned to the ward!