Jun 3, 2026
Chapter 97 — Preparatory Work Before the Surgery
“Mm, thank you, Uncle Ling.”
The little girl nodded obediently. The third child, sensible beyond his years, took her hand and pulled her aside. “Little Sister, don’t disturb Uncle Ling. Let him go check on Mother. Uncle Ling, is there anything we can help with?”
At only ten years old, he was already remarkably composed. Though his eyes brimmed with tears and his face was tight with worry, he tried his utmost to appear calm and steady. The sight of it tugged painfully at the heart. Ling Jingxuan smiled gently. “Then go boil a pot of water for me. Be careful not to let any ash or smoke get into it.”
If he didn’t give them something to do, he feared they wouldn’t be able to hold themselves together. Children were still children—no matter how mature they seemed, they could not truly be treated as adults. Thinking of his own little buns, who often acted just the same, Ling Jingxuan’s resolve to save them grew even firmer.
“Mm.”
The third child nodded and led his sister toward the kitchen. Off to the side, Aunt Zhao still looked shaken, as if her soul had yet to return to her body. Just then, the eldest son, Zhao Shan, approached, leading a goat behind him. “Uncle Ling, will this goat do?”
Zhao Shan was already fourteen and often helped his father with labor. He had grown tall and sturdy, though unlike Old Wang’s rough, dark complexion, his skin was a healthy wheat tone, his features even carrying a trace of refinement—likely inherited from his mother.
“It will do. Shengrui, help me slaughter it. Take out the small intestines and place them in a clean earthen basin. I’ll go check on the woman in labor.”
“Mm. Don’t push yourself. If you can save them, then save them. If not, no one will blame you.”
Though he didn’t know what Ling Jingxuan intended to do, Yan Shengrui couldn’t help but offer a few words of concern. Ling Jingxuan gave a brief nod and stepped inside. Yan Shengrui, meanwhile, told Zhao Shan to fetch the sharpest knife in the house, then led the goat to a corner of the courtyard, preparing to carry out Ling Jingxuan’s instructions.
The moment he entered the birthing room, the heavy stench of blood hit him. The woman lay sprawled on the bed, her legs splayed open, already at her last breath. When she saw Ling Jingxuan enter, she didn’t even have the strength to panic—she couldn’t so much as draw her legs together. Her lips moved weakly, as if asking who he was.
Ling Jingxuan stepped forward, took her wrist, and checked her pulse. Frowning, he drew out a set of silver needles from within his robes—tools he disinfected almost daily.
“Don’t be afraid, Sister-in-law. My name is Ling Jingxuan. I’m a physician. Your condition is extremely grave—you can no longer deliver naturally. I will find a way to save both you and the child. If you’re tired, rest for a while.”
His voice seemed to carry a calming force. Zhao Shulan slowly closed her eyes. The waves of pain in her abdomen made true sleep impossible, but at the very least, her tightly wound nerves eased.
Ling Jingxuan helped bring her numb, splayed legs back together, then, without the slightest hesitation, untied her sweat-soaked undergarments, revealing her swollen belly. He took an oil lamp from a nearby cabinet and lit it, using the flame’s heat to sterilize his needles once more. With swift, precise movements, he inserted them into several acupoints, easing her contractions and delaying the labor—buying precious time for the procedure he was about to perform.
Freed from the sharpest edge of pain, Zhao Shulan soon slipped into a genuine sleep. By the time Ling Jingxuan finished administering the needles and stepped out, a quarter of an hour had already passed.
“Brother Ling, take a look—are these the right medicines?”
Old Wang had returned. The moment he saw him emerge, he hurried forward, holding out a bundle of herbs. Ling Jingxuan opened it and inspected the contents carefully. Only after confirming they were correct did he nod.
“Brother Wang, I need a clean room with good lighting. Prepare it immediately, then carry Sister-in-law there—gently. I’ve administered acupuncture, and she’s temporarily asleep. Do not wake her, or she’ll suffer even more. Also, I need plenty of clean cotton cloth—all of it must be boiled in water to sterilize it thoroughly.”
At a time like this, Ling Jingxuan found himself oddly grateful that it was the height of the seventh month. The heat was oppressive, but the daylight was strong and lingered long into the evening. Even if the procedure ran long, darkness wouldn’t be an issue. More importantly, the high temperature meant everything he needed for the operation could be prepared quickly.
“Ah, I’ll go prepare it right away.”
Time was life—saving a person was like fighting a fire. Old Wang knew this wasn’t the moment for polite formalities. He hurried into the house at once. Aunt Zhao, who had been standing there in a daze for quite some time, glanced hesitantly at Ling Jingxuan before following her son-in-law inside to help. At this point, they had no choice but to trust him.
“The goat intestines you asked for.”
At the same time, Yan Shengrui had already slaughtered the goat with practiced efficiency. Carrying a clay basin filled with the cleaned small intestines, he brought it over. Seeing the sweat beading on Ling Jingxuan’s forehead, he couldn’t hide the concern in his eyes. They had only come out for a leisurely stroll—who would have thought things would turn out like this? Today, Ling Jingxuan would likely exhaust himself again.
“I’m fine. Saving her comes first. Sorry—we agreed today would just be for you.”
Catching the concern in his gaze, Ling Jingxuan felt a rare flicker of guilt. No one could have predicted that their impulsive detour would lead them into something like this.
“What are you saying? Do I look that petty? As long as you don’t overwork yourself, I’m satisfied.”
Curling his fingers, Yan Shengrui lightly tapped his forehead. For once, he didn’t act shameless or seize the moment to feign grievance. Ling Jingxuan couldn’t help but laugh. Catching sight of Zhao Shan approaching from the corner of his eye, he quickly stepped forward.
“Boil three bowls of water down to one—quickly. I’ll need it soon.”
The anesthetic he had prescribed was Mafeisan, the formula attributed to Hua Tuo—but he had added several superior herbs, making slight improvements. Its effect would certainly surpass the original.
“Mm.”
Zhao Shan wasn’t one for idle chatter. Taking the medicinal packet, he went straight to the kitchen. Ling Jingxuan followed, carrying the basin of intestines, ignoring Yan Shengrui trailing closely behind. He scooped boiling water from the pot and poured it into the basin. The already-cleaned intestines shrank instantly. Before they could curl into a tangled mass, he deftly lifted them out with chopsticks. Turning, he scraped away the fat along their surface using the edge of the chopsticks, leaving only a thin membrane.
He then scalded the casing again with another basin of boiling water, laid it flat on a cleaned cutting board, and, using the sharp dagger he carried with him, carefully split it along its natural grain into many fine, even strands. Finally, after another round of high-temperature sterilization, a set of simple catgut sutures was complete.
The process looked simple, but it demanded extreme care—there was no room for the slightest mistake. Yan Shengrui, standing by the entire time, didn’t fully understand what he was doing, but whenever he saw sweat gather at Ling Jingxuan’s temples, he would quietly wipe it away. The tacit understanding between them had long surpassed the need for words.
“Brother Ling, everything is ready.”
“Uncle Ling, the medicine is done too.”
At the same time, Old Wang and his son had finished their preparations. Carrying the bowl of catgut, Ling Jingxuan followed Old Wang into the newly prepared birthing room. Several translucent roof tiles let in daylight, so the room was reasonably well lit—barely sufficient for what he needed to do.
Still…
“Brother Wang, remove the bed canopy. Xiao Shan, cool the medicine and feed it to your mother.”
In the countryside, mosquito net canopies were commonly hung during summer to keep insects away, but now they only got in the way. Father and son moved in perfect unison, carrying out his instructions without hesitation. By the time everything was ready, another quarter of an hour had passed.
Ling Jingxuan told Old Wang and the others to boil water outside and wait. He kept only Yan Shengrui as his assistant. A procedure like cutting open the abdomen to deliver a child was far too shocking—until it succeeded, he had no intention of explaining it to them.
“What exactly are you trying to do?”
Seeing him sterilize scissors, a set of unfamiliar blades, and several strange needles over high heat once more, Yan Shengrui couldn’t help but ask.
“A cesarean.”
Busy with his preparations, Ling Jingxuan didn’t even lift his head. He methodically sterilized each stainless-steel scalpel and surgical clamp again and again.
“What did you say?!”
For the first time, Yan Shengrui—who normally wouldn’t change expression even if Mount Tai collapsed before him—lost control and exclaimed aloud. Had he gone mad? Cutting open the abdomen to take out the child—could the mother even survive that? Was this some kind of joke? Did he even understand what he was doing? If anything went wrong, how would he answer to Old Wang’s family?
“Lower your voice. In principle, it’s just a minor procedure—it shouldn’t be life-threatening. But since no one here has ever done it before, don’t let them hear.”
Ling Jingxuan understood his shock but had no intention of explaining further. After finishing sterilizing all the instruments, he turned back—
Zhao Shulan was awake.
Her gaze was weak and unfocused as she looked at them, her eyes filled with undisguised shock. It was obvious she had heard their conversation. But as the anesthetic gradually took effect, no matter how frightened she was, she could no longer speak.
“Sister-in-law, trust me—nothing will happen. It’s just that after I perform the cesarean, I will also tie your tubes. You won’t be able to conceive again in the future. I hope you can understand.”
Standing by the bedside, Ling Jingxuan spoke as softly as he could. If this were the twenty-first century, a woman could bear children again a few years after a cesarean. But this era was far too primitive—even he didn’t dare take that risk. The only way was to perform sterilization and prevent any future pregnancy.
For reasons she herself couldn’t explain, his words—and the quiet certainty in his eyes—seemed to instantly calm her fear. Zhao Shulan’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier, on the verge of closing. She gave the faintest, almost imperceptible nod, accepting his decision. In the end, it was nothing more than death either way. At least the child could be saved, couldn’t it?
She believed that even if she were gone, Old Wang would raise their child well, would never let them be bullied. That alone was enough.
“Jingxuan… are you truly certain?”
Having spent so much time with him, Yan Shengrui understood him well. Once Ling Jingxuan had made up his mind, no one could stop him. So even though the worry gnawed at him, he didn’t voice any attempt to persuade him otherwise. And yet… somewhere deep inside, a voice kept insisting—if it was him, then he could do it.
Ling Jingxuan let out a soft chuckle. “Every operation carries risk. I’m no god—how could I have absolute certainty? Don’t worry. Barring accidents, there shouldn’t be any problem.”
He tossed him a reassuring smile, then turned back to Zhao Shulan, undoing her clothing once more. Taking up a silver needle, he lightly pricked her abdomen. When he confirmed there was no sign of pain on her face, he turned and picked up the clean white cloths Aunt Zhao had prepared earlier. He draped them over her chest and upper thighs, leaving only a small square exposed over her abdomen.
The preparations were complete.
“Shengrui, I need your help. This is a sweat cloth—wipe my sweat the moment it appears. And when I ask for something, hand it to me immediately.”
The ease from before vanished. The moment he picked up the scalpel, Ling Jingxuan’s expression turned solemn. It wasn’t that he had never performed surgery alone—on the contrary, in his previous life, he often had. But the conditions here were different. Better to be cautious wherever possible.
“Mm.”
Without another word, Yan Shengrui took the tray filled with instruments from his hands, holding the sweat cloth in the other. Ling Jingxuan gave him a grateful smile, then closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath.
When he turned back, he began—
his first surgery in this ancient world.
Notes
- 麻沸散 (má fèi sǎn) A legendary ancient anesthetic attributed to Hua Tuo (Huà Tuó), a famed physician of the late Han dynasty. Often portrayed in fiction as an early general anesthetic.
- 羊小腸 (yáng xiǎo cháng) “Sheep small intestines” — historically used to make catgut sutures (biodegradable surgical thread).
- 泰山崩於前而面不改色 (Tài Shān bēng yú qián ér miàn bù gǎi sè) Idiom: “Even if Mount Tai collapses before him, his expression does not change” — describes extreme composure.
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Translator: LazyHermitGal
Author: LazyHermitGal
A Lazy Hermit Gal wondering in the void and falling into the translation abyss.
