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

Chen Ping rode his old-fashioned bicycle out of the health center gate and turned east.

The road became narrower and narrower, the asphalt road turned into a cement road, the cement road turned into a dirt road, and the dirt road turned into a gravel road.

The wheels made a clattering sound as they rolled over the gravel, and the back of the car bounced back and forth, making my bottom ache.

It gets dark very quickly.

When he left Siping Township, there was still a touch of dark red on the horizon. But as he turned into the mountain road, the red was blocked by the mountains, and the surroundings suddenly became dark.

Fortunately, the moon came up, big and round, hanging on the mountaintop in the east, illuminating the mountain road with a bright white light.

The road is bordered by a mountain wall on one side and a cliff on the other. Below the cliff, it's pitch black, and you can't see how deep it is.

He dared not look in that direction, staring at the road ahead, his feet daring not to stop.

After walking for about forty minutes, the lights of Sunjiagou came into view.

The village is small, with only a few dozen households scattered on the hillside. Dim yellow light shines from the windows, like fireflies on a black cloth.

Chen Ping slowed down and turned onto the dirt road at the village entrance. The wheels rolled over potholes, and the handlebars wobbled a few times, but he steadied himself.

Half of Zhao Dezhu's courtyard wall had collapsed, and light shone through the crack in the door.

Chen Ping propped up his bicycle at the door, walked to the door, and reached out to push it.

"Dr. Chen! Don't come in! Run!"

Sun Xiuying's voice came from the courtyard, sharp and urgent, like a knife cutting through glass.

Chen Ping's hand stopped on the door panel; he neither pushed it nor pulled it back.

A muffled thud came from the courtyard, like the sound of a slap on the face, followed by a muffled groan from Sun Xiuying.

The door was kicked open from the inside.

Ma Hu stood at the door, wearing a black jacket with the collar turned up, his expression both angry and fierce.

He glared at Chen Ping, his lips twitching, then took a step back and waved his hand: "Beat him!"

This guy is ruthless; he started fighting without saying a word the moment he met her.

Seven or eight people rushed out of the yard, some carrying sticks, some carrying iron pipes, and one holding a brick.

The moonlight shone on the sticks, giving them a cold gleam.

Chen Ping took two steps back, put the first-aid kit on the ground, straightened up, and looked at the bald man at the front.

The bald man raised the iron pipe and smashed it down on his head.

Chen Ping turned to the side, and the iron pipe grazed his ear, creating a gust of wind.

He grabbed the bald man's wrist with his left hand and punched him in the armpit with his right. The bald man cried out, the iron pipe slipped from his hand, and he fell backward, crashing into the man behind him who was holding a brick. The two of them rolled into a heap.

The second one rushed up; it was a long-haired guy who swept his stick horizontally.

Chen Ping ducked to avoid the kick, then kicked the long-haired man in the knee. The long-haired man screamed, fell to his knees, dropped his stick, and clutched his knee, unable to get up.

The third, fourth, and fifth came up together, wielding sticks from three directions.

Chen Ping dodged two of the spikes, but couldn't avoid the third one, which struck him on the back with a dull thud. He staggered forward two steps, gritted his teeth, and didn't cry out.

Ma Hu stood at the doorway, watching Chen Ping surrounded, and laughed: "Beat him! Beat him to death!"

Chen Ping turned around and punched the man who had hit him in the back in the face. The man's nose was bruised and blood spurted out. He covered his nose and squatted down.

But there were too many people. When you knocked down one, two more came up; when you knocked down two, four more came up.

No matter how fast his punches and kicks were, he couldn't stop the sticks coming from all directions.

An iron pipe hit his shoulder, and he couldn't lift his left arm anymore.

A stick was swung at his thigh, and his legs went weak, almost causing him to kneel down.

He gritted his teeth and stood still, knocking down another opponent with his right fist, but then another blow struck his lower back, sending him sprawling forward. He braced himself with his hands on the ground, his knees hitting the rocks and breaking.

"Dr. Chen! Go quickly! Don't worry about us!" Sun Xiuying's voice came from the courtyard again, choked with sobs.

Chen Ping got up from the ground, but before he could stand up properly, a stick hit him on the head.

hum...

The world seems to have been put on pause.

The sound disappeared, the moonlight disappeared, everything in front of me disappeared, only white, blindingly white, as white as the operating lights in an operating room.

Then the white was soaked in red, blood flowed down his forehead, blurring his left eye, and dripped down his cheek, one drop at a time, dark and indistinct in the moonlight.

He blinked. He could still see with his right eye, but his vision was blurred, as if through a layer of mist.

The thugs stood in front of him, their figures indistinct, like ghosts.

Ma Hu shouted from the doorway, "He's done for! Go! Finish him off and we're done!"

The bald man got up from the ground, picked up the iron pipe, and charged forward again.

Chen Ping closed his eyes.

He didn't faint; he just suddenly didn't want to watch anymore.

If you can't see clearly, there's no point in looking.

But he could sense it, not by hearing it, but in a way he couldn't explain.

He could sense the direction, speed, and distance of the bald man's charge, and even feel the contraction of his shoulder muscles as he raised the iron pipe.

The feeling was exactly the same as when he pressed his hand on the patient and "saw" the lesion.

This time, however, he didn't press anything or touch anything, and the information just poured in on its own, like a river overflowing its banks, unstoppable.

He veered half an inch to the left, and the iron pipe grazed the tip of his nose.

He reached out and grabbed the bald man's collar, pulled him down, and then slammed his knee into him. The bald man groaned, the iron pipe fell off again, and he curled up into a ball like a boiled shrimp.

The second one charged in from the right, sweeping his stick horizontally.

He didn't open his eyes, but he clearly sensed the trajectory, landing point, and speed of the stick, as if someone had drawn a picture in his mind.

He took a step back, and the stick swept past him.

He reached out and grabbed the stick, pulling it back. The man stumbled and lunged at him, and he struck him on the back of the head with his elbow. The man lay motionless on the ground.

The third, the fourth, the fifth, one after another rushed up, and one after another fell down.

Chen Ping stood at the gate of the courtyard, his eyes closed, covered in blood. The left side of his face was covered in blood, and his right eye was almost closed.

But his body was moving, dodging, blocking, and counterattacking, each movement as precise as if it had been measured with a ruler.

In less than five minutes, seven or eight people were lying on the ground. Some were groaning, some were motionless, and some were crawling away.

The remaining few stood on the perimeter, holding sticks, too afraid to go forward.

They looked at Chen Ping as if he were something that had crawled out of a grave, covered in blood, with its eyes closed, standing motionless in the moonlight.

"Go! All of you, go!" Ma Hu shouted at the door, his voice cracking, but no one moved.

Chen Ping opened his eyes.

He could still see a little in his right eye, but his left eye was covered in blood. However, he saw Ma Hu standing at the door, his expression changing from fierce to fear, and from fear to collapse.

He took a step back, bumped into the door frame, took another step back, and then turned and ran.

"Stop him! Stop him!" Ma Hu shouted as he ran, but no one stopped Chen Ping.

When those men saw Ma Hu run away, they threw down their sticks, turned around, and ran. Some ran a few steps and then came back to help their fallen comrades, while others didn't even bother to help them and ran away on their own.

The bald man got up from the ground, clutching his stomach, and staggered away.

The long-haired boy hopped away on one leg.

The one with the bruised nose and blood all over his face also ran away.

The Santana started up, and the van started up too. The headlights came on, and they swayed a couple of times on the village road before driving away one after the other.

The sound of the engine grew fainter and fainter until it was blocked by the mountain, and nothing could be heard anymore.