Chapter 27: Heart Surgery

Mu Nanhe nodded fiercely, realizing that the commander was right; there was no use in self-blame at this moment. The urgent task was to find a way to save Chen Feng.

Chen Feng’s father immediately leveraged his connections, reaching out to the top cardiac surgeons in the country. Time was of the essence, and upon hearing the news, the experts quickly abandoned their current engagements, hurrying from various locations to consult. They were all highly regarded authorities in their field, rich in experience and skill, carrying the last hope of the crowd.

Once the specialists arrived, they swiftly entered the emergency room to discuss Chen Feng’s condition in depth. Various sophisticated instruments were wheeled in, and data flickered across screens as the specialists’ expressions grew increasingly serious and focused. Every meticulous movement revealed their expertise and seriousness.

However, as time passed, the atmosphere outside the consultation room grew more and more oppressive. Eventually, the experts began to emerge from the emergency room, all appearing weary and shaking their heads in resignation.

One senior expert, looking helpless, said, “Commander, the difficulty of this surgery is truly too great. The bullet fragments are too close to the heart, and the operating space is minimal. Any misstep could directly threaten the heart; we really have no way of proceeding.”

Another expert echoed, “Even if we attempt the surgery, given the patient’s current physical condition, he simply cannot withstand significant blood loss during the procedure. The risk of excessive bleeding could lead to death—it’s far too perilous.”

Chen Feng’s father’s expression grew increasingly dark, filled with despair and unwillingness. His hands were clenched tightly, knuckles turning white.

Mu Nanhe stood nearby with watery eyes, feeling utterly powerless in the face of his friend’s life-threatening situation.

In the stifling atmosphere of despair, a sudden idea flashed in Mu Nanhe’s mind—Yang Qingyan. Although she lacked a medical license, her medical skills were exceptional, and with her supernatural abilities, perhaps she could create a miracle.

Taking a deep breath, Mu Nanhe gathered his courage and said to the commander, “Sir, I thought of someone who might be able to help—my wife, Yang Qingyan. She has good medical skills and has helped many people before, but… she doesn’t have a medical license.”

The commander frowned slightly, deep in thought. After a moment, he raised his head, his gaze resolute. “The situation is critical; we can only try anything as a last resort. Please ask her to come.”

A glimmer of hope ignited in Mu Nanhe’s eyes as he immediately turned, sprinting out of the hospital. He jumped into his car and sped towards home. All the while, his mind was consumed with thoughts of Chen Feng’s serious injury and the commander’s look filled with expectation and helplessness.

Before long, Mu Nanhe returned home. Before the car had come to a complete stop, he jumped out and dashed inside, finding Yang Qingyan. “Qingyan, my brother Chen Feng is in critical condition; the experts can’t do anything! Come with me to take a look!”

Seeing Mu Nanhe’s anxious expression, Yang Qingyan didn’t hesitate for a moment and nodded firmly. “I’ll do my best.”

The two quickly jumped into the car and sped off to the hospital. As they drove, Mu Nanhe remained silent, gripping the steering wheel tightly. His knuckles turned pale from the pressure as his eyes fixated on the road ahead, as if willing the car to find the fastest route.

Yang Qingyan, sitting beside him, noticed his distress and gently patted his arm, speaking softly, “Don’t worry; I might have a way.” Mu Nanhe turned slightly, his eyes glistening, his voice hoarse, “Chen Feng is my sworn brother. He once saved my life. I can’t just watch him…” His voice caught in his throat, and he couldn’t continue.

Yang Qingyan felt a pang in her heart and replied resolutely, “Don’t worry, I will do everything I can.” Her eyes radiated confidence and determination, trying to pass some strength to Mu Nanhe so he could calm down a bit.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Yang Qingyan took a deep breath and walked steadily into the emergency room. Inside, various machines emitted cold, rhythmic beeping sounds. Chen Feng lay on the bed, ashen-faced, with weak breaths rising and falling in his chest—a shadow of his former self, his life hanging by a thread, which was heartbreaking to witness.

Yang Qingyan quickly scanned the room and assessed the difficulty of the surgery. Although she did not have a medical license, surgical procedures had become her specialty in the apocalypse; she had witnessed numerous life-and-death situations and dealt with injuries even more complicated than this one.

After a moment, Yang Qingyan emerged from the emergency room, and all eyes focused on her. Her face was calm, and she spoke with determination, “I’ll perform the surgery; there’s an 80% chance of success.”

At her words, the specialists displayed expressions of astonishment, whispering among themselves. They thought to themselves how could this young girl possibly make such a bold claim? Even their experienced and renowned experts could not guarantee a success rate of more than 20% in such a tricky situation, given how close the bullet fragments were to the heart, as well as scattered around vital areas—one wrong move could lead to fatal consequences.

Seeing the reactions, Mu Nanhe took a step forward, locking eyes with the commander, his expression filled with pleading and trust. “Commander, please believe in my wife.”

The commander scrutinized Yang Qingyan, a flicker of doubt passing through his eyes but quickly replaced by conviction. After pondering for a moment, he said, “Do your best; you won’t be held responsible if something goes wrong.”

The specialists exchanged glances, hesitating for a moment before one of them stepped forward and asked, “Miss, we would like to observe your surgical process, if that’s all right?”

Curiosity blended with a desire to learn in their minds; after all, if this challenging case could be successfully treated, there would certainly be valuable lessons to take away.

Yang Qingyan nodded slightly, responding with composure, “Sure, I could use some assistants; I’d appreciate it.”

With preparations for the surgery underway, she carefully washed her hands, donned surgical attire, and put on gloves and a mask with practiced ease. Approaching the operating table, she picked up the scalpel, her gaze sharp and focused.

As the operation commenced, she gently cut through the blood clots of the injury, her movements both soft and decisive, aiming to minimize secondary trauma. Once the wound was open, the shattered tissue, clotted blood, and bullet fragments were stark, yet she did not flinch. Relying on her exquisite skills, she painstakingly cleaned the wound, using forceps to extract small fragments and place them in a tray with precision, while the instruments recorded the operational data.

When confronted with larger fragments, she used specialized tools to stabilize the surrounding tissue before cautiously prying and removing them, all the while monitoring Chen Feng’s vital signs; she would pause at the slightest sound from the machines, watching closely for any changes.

The surgery extended over several hours—Yang Qingyan’s forehead glistened with beads of sweat, her surgical attire soaked through, her eyes bloodshot, yet her hands remained steady and unwavering.