Chapter 34: Simple Surgery

Hearing what Mu Min said, everyone’s expression changed. They were all modern people with a basic understanding of human rights. Now, someone (a woman, no less) was about to die unjustly because of some superstition. They couldn’t just stand by and watch.

“We have to save her,” Mu Min said.

The group fell silent. This was the Li territory, and the transmigrators were outsiders. Historical experience told them that when you don’t have enough power to influence others, no matter how good your intentions are, you shouldn’t interfere in their affairs, or you will only incur resentment.

Xiong Buyou said, “How are we going to save her?”

“She’s innocent—” Mu Min stopped as soon as she said this. They knew that there was no such thing as a “curse” in this world. The problem was that the people here didn’t think so.

“Let’s play it by ear,” Cui Yunhong said. “Didn’t Director Wang specifically tell us this time to respect the customs of the ethnic minorities and not to interfere at will?”

“We can’t just let someone die, can we?” Someone’s sense of justice flared up.

“What does her life or death have to do with us!” Fang Jinghan suddenly blurted out. Everyone was surprised, not expecting this good-natured person to say something so cold.

“What did you say?!” Someone’s universal values were triggered. “An innocent person is about to be killed! And you say it has nothing to do with us?!”

It seemed that before they could even get started, a grand discussion on values and human rights theory was about to unfold. Cui Yunhong shouted:

“Enough!” In his heart, he also felt that the woman’s life or death had little to do with them, but now that it had been brought up, openly refusing to save her would definitely cause internal conflict. “What’s the use of talking about this now?”

He Ping said, “It’s not difficult to save her, but I have to ask, will the Executive Committee agree to us taking this woman in?”

“Of course, we’ll take her in,” Mu Min replied without hesitation. “Regardless of her ethnic identity, we need her even as a laborer.”

“Or she could be a wife for Xiao Wang.”

“I think you’re the one who’s interested,” someone was already joking. Cui Yunhong thought that one of the biggest characteristics of modern people was their lightheartedness; they could always find something to laugh about.

“I could only be interested if she didn’t have a tattooed face.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Mu Min said. “Although women of all ages and classes have been identified as ‘jin mu,’ it’s mostly middle-aged and elderly women, especially widows with no family, because they lack the protection of a clan.”

He Ping nodded. “Since you’re willing to take her in, I’ll give it a try when the time comes. I can’t guarantee success.”

The aoya had already come to urge them, and a large crowd of curious onlookers had gathered outside. Cui Yunhong quickly made some arrangements.

“Comrades,” Cui Yunhong said. “We must now prepare for the worst. If necessary, we’ll have to flee quickly. Let’s familiarize ourselves with the contingency plan now. If anything unexpected happens, we’ll act according to the plan. Understood?”

It was decided that Xiong Buyou would accompany He Ping to see the patient, with Huang Zhaizi as a bodyguard.

Cui Yunhong gave them the only GLOCK pistol the team had.

“If anything happens, fight your way out immediately,” Cui Yunhong instructed. “Your lives are the most important thing. If you lose the medicine and equipment, so be it.”

Mu Min also added, “Don’t be impulsive. The Li people value their word and trust. Leave some room when you speak. There’s no need to be so tense.” She sighed. In her heart, she didn’t quite approve of Cui Yunhong’s “facing a great enemy” arrangements, feeling that it was an overreaction.

“We all understand.”

The others packed their luggage and prepared their guns. The survey team had brought 4 Remington shotguns and 5-shot hunting rifles, as well as several Derringer pistols. They were all loaded, wrapped in banana leaves, and kept at hand.

After the arrangements were made, the next morning, He Ping’s group, carrying a travel medicine box, followed the aoya and Li Benqing to the dongzhu’s house.

The dongzhu’s residence was larger and more exquisitely built than the surrounding houses. The class difference among the Meifu Li was quite obvious. He Ping and the others looked solemn. The able-bodied men of the village held back the crowd while escorting him forward. After a while, an old man came to welcome them. He was one of the dongzhu’s confidants.

The room was dimly lit. He Ping blinked for a while before he could see a young man lying on a bamboo couch on one side of the room. A group of people, mostly women, surrounded him, and some seemed to be weeping. A bamboo screen shielded the bed.

After a quick glance at the scene, He Ping walked to the front of the bamboo couch. The person was only fifteen or sixteen, in the prime of his youth. In the dim light, his face was sallow, and he was covered in sweat, gasping for breath in pain.

He was covered with a tie-dyed kapok cloth. A faint smell of decay hung in the air.

He Ping frowned. This smell didn’t seem like an illness. Could it be an infected wound?

“What’s the illness?” He Ping asked.

A middle-aged woman with a tattooed face next to him quickly said something to Li Benqing. Li Benqing said:

“At first, it was just some redness and swelling on his leg. A few days ago, it suddenly flared up, and a large swelling appeared. His whole body is burning up.”

Lifting the sheet, He Ping gasped. There was a huge abscess on the man’s leg, and his body temperature felt very high. He opened his box, wiped his finger with an alcohol swab, and pressed the abscess. It was burning hot, with a soft, pulsating spot in the center. He Ping already knew it was an infection caused by a wound.

Surgery was unavoidable in this situation. He Ping disinfected his finger again. Although it was just a minor outpatient surgery, he had never performed it on a human before. He couldn’t help but regret his decision.

The woman next to him, seeing his troubled expression, knew that the man was difficult to save and began to wail. The people around her also started to cry.

The old man who had welcomed them asked, “Miracle doctor, is there still hope for the dongzhu?”

“It’s hard to say,” He Ping said cautiously. “I can give it a try, but I can’t guarantee he’ll live. I can’t be held responsible if he dies. If you agree, I’ll treat him. Otherwise, I’ll have to leave.”

The aoya readily agreed, saying that another year of life was another year, and he only begged the miracle doctor to perform his magic.

He Ping asked them to move the patient outside—it was too dark here to perform surgery. He instructed them to surround the patient’s couch with curtains and build a canopy over it to block the sun. Outside the canopy, they built a fire pit with stones and started a fire. He also had them bring a new pottery pot to boil water. He had them take several bolts of white cloth, cut them into three large pieces, and cut a hole in the middle to serve as surgical gowns. The rest was made into masks and caps. After they were made, they were boiled in water and dried in the sun.

The Li people of the village watched all this with a mixture of fear and curiosity. By the time everything was ready, it was already noon. When the three of them came out of the canopy dressed in white gowns, white caps, and masks, the children were so scared they ran away. The old people’s eyes also showed great unease and fear.

He Ping opened his medicine box and organized his things. He said to Xiong Buyou and Huang Zhaizi:

“His illness is likely a streptococcal infection from a wound. It won’t get better without surgery. If it’s delayed for a few more days, he’ll probably die from either a high fever or sepsis.”

“Incision and drainage?” Huang Zhaizi was an outdoor enthusiast and knew some basic self-treatment for minor injuries and illnesses.

“Yes, only surgery can save his life,” He Ping said. “You’ll be my nurses and help me.”

“Alright, what do you need us to do?” Huang Zhaizi readily agreed.

“First, help me sterilize the instruments and prepare the materials. Oh, and we need to mix some normal saline.”

“For an IV?”

“For washing the wound. Make sure the concentration is 0.9%.”

“Got it.”

There wasn’t much alcohol in the medicine box, so they used the simplest method of boiling to sterilize the surgical instruments. They boiled the needed instruments in already boiling water for another 5 minutes and then disinfected them with alcohol. He Ping put on his gloves, took a deep breath, and picked up the scalpel.

The middle-aged woman outside—probably the dongzhu’s mother—had been uneasy since she saw them boiling various shiny things in the water. When she saw He Ping pick up a small knife, she almost went mad, crying and screaming outside, trying to rush in. She was held back by several aoyas—He Ping had already instructed them beforehand.

“What’s his temperature?”

“39.8 degrees.”

“Put some cloth in his mouth. You guys hold him down,” He Ping instructed them.

He Ping first thoroughly disinfected the area around the abscess with alcohol, then found the soft, fluctuating spot on the abscess—he remembered He Ma telling him during his simple surgery training that this was where to make the incision to drain the pus. But it was easier said than done. He was a little nervous about cutting into a living person. He took a deep breath and made the cut.

Pus and blood shot out, splattering all over their makeshift surgical gowns.

Xiong Buyou almost cried out. The scene was truly frightening. He clearly felt the patient under his hands twitch and struggle. He pressed down with all his might.

At this moment, a commotion and the sound of many footsteps came from outside. He Ping began to wash the wound with saline, and the young dongzhu struggled even more fiercely. Huang Zhaizi and Xiong Buyou had to use all their strength to hold him down.

As they were busy, Li Benqing squeezed in from outside. Seeing this scene, his face turned pale with fright. Xiong Buyou scolded, “What are you doing in here?”

Li Benqing said with a pained expression, “There’s a lot of noise outside. They’re saying that letting you treat the dongzhu is—is—”

As he was speaking, there seemed to be an argument outside. The sound of the incomprehensible Li language rose and fell. The three of them were all nervous. But since it had come to this, they couldn’t stop halfway. He Ping simply ignored it and focused on cleaning the wound. After the wound was completely cleaned, he inserted a vaseline-coated gauze drain into the wound and then loosely covered it with cotton wool and bandaged it.

“No antibiotic powder?” Huang Zhaizi asked.

“We need to drain it now. Give him oral penicillin,” He Ping said, looking at the bandage. Although it was a bit ugly, it was acceptable.

“Wait, you’re giving him oral penicillin. What if he’s allergic? Won’t he die for sure!”

“I forgot!” He Ping was startled. “Let’s switch to sulfa tablets.”

They then gave the patient oral sulfa drugs. At this time, the noise outside stopped. He Ping instructed that the family could come in. The ones who came in were the dongzhu’s mother and the old aoya who had invited them.

The dongzhu’s mother saw that her son’s face was pale, but he seemed to be in less pain, and a look of relief appeared on her face. The old aoya said a lot to Li Benqing again. Li Benqing said:

“He thanks you for saving his nephew. He asks if this is considered cured?”

“Not yet, it will take a few more days,” He Ping knew that he was still in a dangerous period before his temperature dropped. “You can give him water and some light food, but don’t let the wound get wet or dirty. Have someone watch over him day and night. He’s running a fever now, so you need to apply a cold compress with a cloth soaked in cold water…” He Ping gave a lot of instructions, and finally, “Choose the most reliable people you think to look after him. Other than that, no one else is allowed in the shed, no one! If anything happens, come and find me immediately.”

Hearing what He Ping said, a look of worry appeared on the old aoya’s face. But he didn’t say anything more, only that he would do as the miracle doctors instructed.

The three-person team came out of the shed, and their blood-stained gowns caused another commotion. They cleaned the instruments and then boiled them in water to disinfect them again. After they were finished, the pottery pots used for boiling were smashed and buried. The makeshift gowns and masks were all thrown into the fire and burned. This was originally done to prevent the pollution of medical waste, but it was unexpectedly interpreted as a kind of witchcraft ritual by the locals. So much so that many years later, when a work team from the transmigrator regime returned to this place, a young team member recorded this in his social survey notes:

“…In the final stage of ‘doing ghost’ to drive away the illness for the patient, a white cloth stained with red spots, sometimes blood, is thrown into the fire. Finally, the pottery pot used for boiling things is smashed. The entire ritual is then officially over…”

Back at Li Benqing’s house, someone brought food: roasted chicken, eggs, fish, bamboo tube rice, rice wine, and so on. It was a very sumptuous meal. But the members of the survey team had no appetite. The three who had performed the surgery were still thinking about the pus and blood, while the others were worried about what would happen in the next few days. They had seen the commotion outside the shed clearly, while the people inside hadn’t. A young man was constantly inciting something, and the crowd outside had become agitated several times. Fortunately, the aoyas outside had managed to maintain order by suppressing them with all their might.

“Don’t worry, this dongzhu will definitely have a fever for a few days. With antibiotics, he won’t die,” He Ping said. “It’s just a bit strange.”

“What?”

“His inflammation wasn’t for no reason,” He Ping took out a paper packet from the enamel box in his medicine box. Inside was a thin bamboo sliver. “I pulled this out of the wound,” he said in a low voice. “It’s a bit strange.”

“He got stabbed and didn’t know?”

“That’s very possible,” He Ping said. “He Ma has told me about many such cases. Fortunately, this thing isn’t made of iron, otherwise, if he got tetanus, no one could save him.”

“Damn, are we going to get involved in some kind of court conspiracy?” Someone’s imagination went wild.