The arrowhead was barbed. Serena Feng had seen this kind before—Lance Quinn's injury back then had been just like this. The barbs were sheer torment; pulling it out would tear away a chunk of flesh, maybe even rupture blood vessels, and then the bleeding wouldn't stop until death.
With barbed arrowheads like this, you had to be extra careful during extraction. Sometimes, you had no choice but to cut the wound open, just to keep the barbs from shredding the blood vessels.
Adrian Dongling's artery was hit—already a nightmare to handle. One wrong move and he'd bleed out. But when Serena opened the wound wider, she realized: this wasn't just difficult—it was almost hopeless.
The barbed arrowhead was wedged exactly between two extremely fine blood vessels. Forget removing the broken arrow—even the slightest nudge would hook and rupture those vessels.
If blood supply failed, everything below the thigh would rot. In cases like this, doctors would advise the family to choose amputation—it was the only way to guarantee the patient's survival.
Serena looked at Adrian Dongling, and for the first time, didn't know what to do.
Amputation was the right choice—but it couldn't be used. As for extracting the arrow, she didn't even have a ten-percent chance.
Nolan, you’ve truly dumped a huge problem on me.
With a sigh, Serena Feng bent down and picked up the forceps from the floor, setting them aside.
Do all you can, and leave the rest to fate. Right now, all she could do was give it everything she had.
If only I had an assistant—at least someone to help me out. Doing everything alone, I really don’t know if I can pull this off.
Serena shook off her frustration and gloom, then picked up the #3 scalpel from the tray. This time, she squatted down directly.
Half-squatting beside Nolan, she used one hand to pull open Adrian Dongling’s wound, while the other hand gripped the scalpel and tried to cut wider, hoping to slip her finger inside and move the blood vessels aside.
In the field, when a bullet hit the thigh and broke a blood vessel, if equipment was lacking, you’d just stick your finger into the wound, fish out the retracted vessel, and then stitch it up.
Blood vessels come in all sizes. The big ones, like arteries or the vena cava, are as thick as two or three fingers—you can see them with the naked eye and sew them directly.
As for the tiny vessels, you need a microscope and high-end equipment to stitch them.
Adrian Dongling’s artery was damaged. Now, those two tiny vessels were probably beyond saving.
Regardless of vessel size, you had to use eversion sutures—if the inner lining wasn’t smooth, it would cause thrombosis, blocking the vessel. When stitching, the artery-to-vein ratio was usually 1:2, which was the only way to ensure proper blood flow.
The needle for stitching vessels was special too—usually it was a needle-and-thread combo, one thread with needles on both ends.
In short, this was a meticulous job. It tested not only the doctor’s skill, but also their nerves.
One slip of the hand, and everything would be ruined.
And Adrian Dongling’s injury tested not just those two things—it also tested whether the doctor’s hands were fast enough.
One artery, two tiny vessels—in this situation, even a miracle worker couldn’t handle it. In modern times, a wound like this would require at least three lead surgeons.
Right now, Serena didn’t have any of that—not even a surgical assistant.
The artery was on top, the tiny vessels below. Normally, she should stitch the small vessels first, then the artery. But…
By the time she finished stitching the tiny vessels, Adrian Dongling would have already bled out.
But if she stitched the artery first, then the tiny vessels, the artery would block access to the small ones.
She couldn’t have both fish and bear’s paw.
She wasn’t even confident about removing the broken arrow and stitching the artery—adding those two tiny vessels made her want to give up. But she didn’t have the right to refuse.
Being a doctor was never a free profession.
Especially now—she couldn’t just go out and tell the Emperor and Empress, “Sorry, I did my best. The surgery failed.”
Hoo…
Whether she stuck her neck out or shrank back, it would be the same—either way, she’d face the knife. Serena stopped hesitating, surgical scalpels and forceps of all sizes spinning between her fingers…
Serena cut the wound as wide as possible, slipped her finger inside, trying to move the blood vessels away from the barbs, or hook them out to stitch first.
Serena believed that with her skills, she could manage without a microscope—it just wouldn’t be fast. After all, this was delicate work.
On the battlefield, bullets nicking blood vessels was normal. Where was she supposed to find a microscope to stitch them? Even if she had one, there was no way to set up such delicate equipment out there.
Skill comes with practice—after enough stitches, you get good at it. Besides, her Smart Med-Pack had a microscope; if conditions allowed, she could use it.
But as soon as Serena slipped a finger inside, Adrian Dongling’s wound started spurting blood, making her yank her hand back in alarm.
“This won’t work.” Serena wiped sweat from her forehead and began staunching Adrian Dongling’s bleeding.
The bleeding stopped, but the wound was still impossible to deal with.
Serena put the scalpel back in the tray, stood up, and looked at Adrian Dongling’s handsome face twisted in pain. She gritted her teeth.
Go for broke!
Adrian Dongling, you have to hang in there—give me a chance, give yourself a chance. Otherwise, we’re both dead.
After saying this, Serena seemed to change completely—a cold aura radiated from her, and she moved like a machine.
Every move was icy, without a trace of emotion.
Serena grabbed the scalpel again, squatted down, and slashed at the wound.
“Pshh…”
Under pressure, blood sprayed out, splattering Serena’s face. She acted as if she didn’t see it—no blinking, no pause, her scalpel spinning so fast it seemed both inside and outside Adrian Dongling’s wound, too quick to follow.
Serena didn’t even dare to breathe. Sweat pooled on her forehead, mixing with blood and running down her face. In the chaos, she lifted her arm and wiped the blood from her eyes, not caring if her sleeve was sterile.
Life or death—all came down to this moment. Adrian Dongling, you’d better hold on. Two lives are at stake.
Serena flicked her wrist—there was a snap, and a blood vessel burst, spraying a thin jet of blood from Adrian Dongling’s wound.
Serena tossed the scalpel into the corner, pulled out the broken arrow, threw it aside, pressed the wound with her left hand, and grabbed the suture needle with her right.
No surgical assistant—this was a nightmare. For an operation this big, one person just couldn’t handle it. Damn it, stop making things harder for me.
Serena stabbed the needle into Adrian Dongling, pressed the wound with her right hand, and used two fingers of her left to hook out the retracted blood vessel, then reached in again to hook out the other end.
All of this happened in an instant. Before anyone could really see, Serena had already fixed the blood vessel in place.
But she only had two hands. No matter how skilled, she was just one person—she had to hold the vessel and stitch at the same time. Alone, it was impossible…
Author’s note to readers: Pretty bloody, pretty savage, huh?