Volume One: At the Foot of Mount Zhongnan Chapter Twenty-Three: Wielding a Blade Before Lord Guan, Suturing Wounds Before the Sage of Medicine

Li Mingyu watched from the side, seeing everything clearly. Li Big-Eye’s father had fallen into a coma from excessive blood loss. The most urgent matter was to stop the bleeding in time; otherwise, his life would soon be forfeit.

A human life hung in the balance. Li Mingyu hurried to Zhou Jian’s side and asked, “Second Uncle Zhou, why aren’t you quickly stopping the bleeding and stitching up Li Uncle’s wound? If we delay any longer, things could get dangerous!”

Zhou Jian looked up and saw it was Li Mingyu. He knew the boy was always resourceful and had a well-traveled, skilled master—perhaps he might offer some secret remedy for stopping the bleeding. Anxiously, he replied, “You see for yourself, the medicinal powder just washes away with the blood. Has your master ever taught you any special methods for such cases? Quick, tell us!”

“Second Uncle, let me try.” With that, Li Mingyu came to Li Big-Eye’s father’s side and carefully examined the wound, discovering it wasn’t extremely serious; the main problem was improper treatment and excessive blood loss, which led to unconsciousness. Judging by his experience, the blood loss had already surpassed the danger line—if the bleeding wasn't stopped immediately, not even a god could save him.

In his previous life, Li Mingyu had learned some battlefield first aid while in the military. Now, in this emergency, he couldn’t afford to hesitate. He called out, “Quick, fetch some boiling water! I’ll also need a sewing needle and thread! Clean white cloth! And strong spirits—the stronger, the better!”

“I have needle and thread right here!” Niuniu hurried over, handing him a small basket with everything inside.

Zhou Jian turned and shouted, “Quick, get some hot water!”

Li Mingyu first tore open the trouser leg at the wound, untied the rope bound at the thigh, found the pressure point two inches above the wound, and had Zhou Jian press down hard. Then, he retied the rope at the pressure point.

Having found the proper pressure point, the bleeding lessened. Soon, everything he’d requested was brought over. Li Mingyu first washed his hands thoroughly, then cleaned the wound with strong spirits using the clean cloth.

The village’s spirits were mostly homemade rice wine, and people in the Tang dynasty hadn’t mastered distillation, so the alcohol content was low. Someone simply brought out raw mash for brewing—it was the strongest they could find on short notice, but even so, Li Mingyu wasn’t sure how effective it would be for disinfection.

Next, he bent a sewing needle, sterilized it with fire, threaded it, and said to Zhou Jian and the others, “I’m going to stitch the wound now. Otherwise, the bleeding will start again. Hold down Li Uncle—when the pain wakes him, don’t let him struggle!”

“Sew flesh like mending clothes? Is that even possible?” Zhou Jian and the others held down Li Big-Eye’s father, their minds full of doubts despite seeing the bleeding slow under Li Mingyu’s previous actions.

Seeing their skepticism, Li Mingyu retorted, “What else do you propose? Any more delay and there’ll be real trouble! Time is short—I’m starting!” He pinched the edges of the wound with his left hand, and with his right, swiftly stitched the wound closed.

The needle piercing the flesh woke Li Big-Eye’s father in agony. Li Mingyu signaled Zhou Jian and the others to hold him securely, while he continued stitching at top speed.

Soon, though the sutures were crooked, the wound was closed. When he applied the wound medicine, the powder stayed on and soon took effect—the bleeding stopped.

Li Mingyu wiped the cold sweat from his brow. Though he’d learned battlefield first aid, he rarely had the chance to practice in peacetime, and there was no first aid kit in ancient times. If not for his unwillingness to watch Li Big-Eye’s father die, he would never have attempted this. Seeing the wound stitched and the medicine applied, he finally breathed a long sigh of relief.

The bleeding had stopped, but Li Big-Eye’s father had lost so much blood—and the pain of stitching was so intense—that after briefly waking, he sank into a deep coma again.

Li Mingyu said to Zhou Jian and the others, “The bleeding’s stopped, but he’s lost a lot of blood. He’ll need good nourishment afterward. Untie the rope on his leg every incense stick’s time to let the blood flow, and fully loosen it after half an hour. Otherwise, the tissue will die and the leg will be lost!”

The others quickly agreed. Zhou Jian clapped Li Mingyu on the shoulder, exclaiming, “Good lad! Second Uncle knew you wouldn’t let us down! This method is nothing short of miraculous! I must thank your master properly!”

Li Mingyu thought, I’m the one who saved him—what does this have to do with my master? You want to thank him, but will that reach me?

But there was no time to explain; healing the wound was urgent. He tore the clean cloth into strips to bandage Li Big-Eye’s father.

At that moment, a shout rose from the crowd, “The Taoist priest is here! Make way!” The crowd parted, and the old priest who’d been listening to stories hurried over with his medicine chest.

Zhou Jian quickly said, “Immortal Elder, this way please! Young Mingyu here used a secret method his master taught him to stop the bleeding, but he’s still a child—he might have made mistakes. Please, check again!”

When the old priest heard the bleeding had stopped, his stern face relaxed. He checked Li Big-Eye’s father’s complexion—no longer so pale—felt his pulse, found it weak but steady, and was reassured.

When he saw the crooked stitches and heard the many voices recount the story, the old priest was astonished. “Such a treatment—I have never heard of it! But the wound is closed and the bleeding stopped, so it’s certainly effective. May I ask which master performed this? I must pay my respects!”

Li Mingyu thought, This is just basic emergency care for external wounds—every special forces soldier in the future would know it. You people from over a thousand years ago are too easily amazed! If you saw heart or kidney transplants from the future, you’d be frightened to death!

Zhou Jian, hearing the old priest’s words, was surprised. This priest was supposed to be an immortal sage, a man of divine skill. Seeing his reaction, Zhou Jian replied, “Immortal Elder, you praise too highly. Mingyu is but a child, not a master. It’s just that his master’s methods are extraordinary.”

“Oh? Who is his master?” the old priest asked.

“Li Sanlang!” Zhou Jian said in surprise. “Immortal Elder, weren’t you old friends with his family?”

“Li Sanlang? The youngest of the Li family?” The old priest shook his head in disbelief. “I know full well how capable the Li family is. He can lead troops and seize banners, yes, but save lives? I don’t mean to belittle him, but even the whole family together couldn’t do this!”

“What? Mingyu, this wasn’t your master’s doing? How could you be so reckless?” Zhou Jian was dumbfounded. He turned to the old priest. “Immortal Elder, please check again! He’s just a child—who knows if what he did was right?”

The old priest impatiently waved his hand. “What’s wrong? The method is extremely effective. Since the bleeding’s stopped, the life is saved. I’ll apply my special wound powder, bandage him, and for three to five days he mustn’t get wet. Later I’ll prescribe a tonic for his blood and energy. In less than a month, he’ll be a lively man again.”

Zhou Jian was overjoyed. “Then it’s all right, since you say so, Immortal Elder! Mingyu, come pay your respects!” With that, he pushed Mingyu before the priest. The priest, delighted, took Li Mingyu’s hand and motioned for the others to carry the wounded man away.

Only then did the priest realize this method was Li Mingyu’s idea. He always heard the village children call him “boss,” but only now learned his name and that he was Li Sanlang’s disciple. Smiling, the priest asked, “Young friend, this method doesn’t seem like something your master would teach. Did you think of it yourself?”

Li Mingyu, annoyed that Zhou Jian and the others still doubted him despite the obvious success, replied proudly, “Of course I thought of it myself!”

“Oh?” The priest stroked his beard. “How did you think to use thread to sew up a wound? That’s truly inspired!”

Li Mingyu thought, Anyone with medical knowledge in the future would know this! But he couldn’t say that. Instead, he answered, “If a garment tears, you sew it and can wear it again. If you can mend clothes, why not people? As long as the wound is closed and the bleeding stops, it’s fine.”

The priest nodded. “Makes sense. Why didn’t I think of it before? But why did you clean the wound with strong spirits first? What’s the reasoning?”

Li Mingyu had no choice but to answer, “Cleaning with spirits is for disinfection, to prevent infection from bacteria.”

“Disinfection? The word is clear enough, but what does it mean exactly? This is a knife wound—why disinfect? He doesn’t look poisoned. And what are bacteria? What do you mean by infection?” The priest’s head spun at these strange terms.

“Uh...” Li Mingyu was stumped. How could he explain bacteria and infection to someone from over a thousand years ago? He thought for a moment and said, “Disinfection means cleaning the wound to prevent it from festering. As for bacteria... Well, the Buddhists say there are 108,000 worms in a drop of water. Bacteria are like those worms, invisible to the naked eye, but they can make wounds inflamed and fester.” Li Mingyu racked his brain, trying to explain in terms a person from ancient times would understand.

“Hmm, what an unusual explanation. I have studied medicine since childhood and practiced for decades yet never heard of such a thing. But it does make some sense—improperly treated wounds do fester, especially in the summer. Could this really be the reason? If they’re invisible, how do you know you’ve gotten rid of them?” The priest muttered to himself, sinking into thought.

Hearing the priest mutter about his decades of medical experience and seeing that he was a Taoist, Li Mingyu suddenly thought of a famous figure and asked tentatively, “May I ask your name, Master Taoist?”

The priest chuckled. “I am Sun Simiao.”