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

midnight.

Chen Ping was awakened by a commotion.

The sound came from the direction of the health center's main gate. It wasn't too loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet village late at night, even though it was separated by two rows of houses and a courtyard.

Someone was shouting, a loud voice, it was Fatty Zhang's voice, carrying the impatience and irritability of a night watchman who had been woken up.

Another voice was in the middle, a woman's, pleading in a high-pitched voice. It was hard to hear what she was saying, but her tone was urgent and panicked.

Chen Ping reached for his phone on the bedside table, turned on the screen, and glanced at it: 2:14 AM.

He put down his phone, got out of bed, put on his coat and pants, slipped on his slippers, and went outside.

As Chen Ping turned the corner, he saw several flashlight beams shining ahead.

Fatty Zhang stood inside the iron gate, his security guard uniform only buttoned up the bottom two buttons, his hat off, his hair disheveled, one hand holding a flashlight, the other hand gripping the iron gate frame.

A man and a woman, both in their early thirties, stood outside the iron gate; the man was rather overweight.

Wearing a thin, dark gray cotton-padded jacket, he hunched over, leaning against the woman's shoulder, one hand tightly clutching his upper right abdomen, his face showing both pain and anxiety.

His lips were downturned, and his forehead was covered in beads of sweat that glistened under the light of the gate lamp.

The woman was wearing an old down jacket, clutching a cloth bag in one hand, and holding the man's arm with the other. She was talking to Fatty Zhang through the iron gate.

"Brother, please have mercy and let us in. My husband is in so much pain, he can't hold on until tomorrow."

The woman's voice was already choked with sobs, and her throat was hoarse.

Fatty Zhang shone his flashlight through the iron gate onto the man's face, his tone impatient but still restrained, "I told you, our clinic doesn't see patients at night, there are no doctors on duty."

"Come back at eight o'clock tomorrow morning. The doctors will be at work by then. No one will see you if you go in now. Go back now."

The man bent over in pain, letting out a muffled groan, and swayed to the side. The woman quickly helped him up.

Then he turned and shouted into the iron gate, "Brother, please help us. Even just letting us in to sit down would be fine. It's too cold outside, and he's in so much pain he can't stand up."

Chen Ping had already walked over from the backyard and stopped a few steps behind Fatty Zhang, asking, "What happened?"

Fatty Zhang turned around, his flashlight beam sweeping across the room. He recognized Chen Ping, and his voice immediately changed as he hurriedly explained, "Dr. Chen? Why did I wake you up? These two people came in the middle of the night insisting on seeing a doctor. I told them there were no doctors on duty and to come back tomorrow, but they wouldn't leave."

Chen Ping walked to the iron gate and peeked out through the crack.

The man was leaning against the woman, his face pale, his lips bitten so hard they left marks, his right hand pressed tightly against his right ribs, his back hunched over as if trying to curl himself into a ball.

His forehead was covered in sweat, his hair was wet and stuck to his forehead, and his breathing was rapid and shallow, with a faint hissing sound as he gasped for air.

Chen Ping reached his hand out from the crack in the iron gate and touched the back of the man's hand. It was cold, but his palm was sweaty.

He glanced at his face and posture again, and roughly understood what was going on. He turned to Fatty Zhang and said, "Open the door and let them in."

Fatty Zhang paused for a moment, then opened his mouth, "Dr. Chen, it's already two in the morning..."

"Open the door," Chen Ping said again, his tone unchanged but his voice slightly deeper.

Fatty Zhang said no more, bent down and pulled the latch on the iron gate, pushing the gate open halfway.

The woman quickly helped the man squeeze in sideways. Just as the man stepped one foot over the threshold, he suddenly slid down as if his bones had been removed, his knee hitting the concrete floor with a dull thud.

He curled up on the ground, clutching his stomach with both hands, letting out a long, drawn-out scream. The sound was both shrill and muffled, echoing in the empty courtyard, making one's heart clench.

The woman also squatted down, trying to support the man's arms with both hands, but she couldn't move them. Tears welled in her eyes, and she turned to Chen Ping, pleading, "Doctor, please, save my man! He's in so much pain!"

One by one, the lights in the backyard came on.

Then came the sound of hurried footsteps. Cui Ying ran over, wearing a thick coat, her hair disheveled, and her face still showing signs of sleepiness.

Zhou Jie and Sun Xiaoyan followed behind, one holding a phone in her hand and the other wearing a white coat. The three of them stood at the corner of the backyard, looking this way, their faces showing surprise and doubt after being woken up.

Chen Ping didn't turn around, but squatted down and patted the man's shoulder. "Can you walk? Let's go into the examination room."

The man gritted his teeth and nodded. With the woman's help, he slowly stood up and hunched over as he moved step by step toward the examination room, taking a deep breath with each step.

Chen Ping walked beside him, one hand lightly supporting his arm, the other already taking out the keys and opening the door to the examination room in advance.

Upon entering the examination room, the operating light snapped on, illuminating the man's face and clearly revealing the beads of sweat on his skin.

Chen Ping asked him to sit on the examination bed, but the man couldn't sit down. He bent over and leaned against the edge of the bed, pressing his hands tightly against his upper right abdomen. His shoulders twitched, and he made muffled groans in his throat.

Chen Ping casually took off the white coat from the hanger and put it on, then reached out and pressed on the man's back and ribs, pushing his fingers upwards.

When the pressure was applied below the right ribcage, the man's body jerked violently, letting out a short scream as he flinched to the side.

"It hurts here?"

The man nodded vigorously, his lips trembling as he struggled to speak a coherent sentence, "It hurts...it hurts like being stabbed with a knife...it comes in waves...it's unbearable when it hurts..."

Chen Ping asked a few more questions: How was your diet? Had you eaten anything greasy recently? Had you experienced similar pain before?

The woman answered for the man, saying that he had eaten braised pork for dinner the night before and started to feel pain during the night. She said that he had experienced this a few times before, but it was always a dull ache that would go away after a while, and it had never been this bad before.

Chen Ping had the man lie down, unbuttoned his clothes to expose his abdomen, and gently tapped the upper right abdomen with his finger.

When the tap reached the gallbladder area, the man gasped again.

Chen Ping then had him take a deep breath and hold it, pressing his fingers on the gallbladder area for palpation. The Murphy's sign was positive, and the pain intensified when the gallbladder moved down and touched the pressing fingers during the deep breath.

In addition, the patient's pulse was wiry and tight, his tongue coating was yellow and greasy, and he had persistent colicky pain under his right ribs radiating to his right shoulder and back, so the diagnosis was already very clear.

"Gallstones, acute attack."

Chen Ping straightened up. "The gallstone is stuck in the cystic duct, preventing bile from draining out. The increased pressure in the gallbladder is causing severe colic."