The medical officer of the Ming Army was observing the wounded who had his abdomen opened by Bagala in the battle the day before yesterday. Ma Biao rushed over and pulled him and his apprentice away.
"Mrs. Zheng was hit by a carefully crafted arrow. Please pull it out and treat her injury quickly!"
The medical officer and his apprentice rushed into the camp and saw Ma Xianglin's livid face first. Then they saw General Ma holding a bowl of honey in his hand.
The medical officer was also from Shilichuan. His parents had followed Ma Qiancheng and Qin Liangyu. After inheriting his family education, he followed Ma Xianglin. When Ma Xianglin was fighting the rebellion in the southwest, it was this medical officer who stitched up the wound on his face.
Now, the medical officer did not dare to neglect at all and approached Zheng Haizhu who was lying on the straw mat.
The lady also wore a cowhide armor over her cotton-padded jacket, and an arrow with a birch shaft was stuck on her left shoulder. There was a blood stain as big as a tea cup near the arrow.
The medical officer cut off the arrow shaft and the clothes around the arrow head, and said, "Fortunately, this Tatar's aim was not good, and he missed the neck."
After saying that, he took out a silk stick from the medicine box and said, "Madam, I'm going to get the arrowhead. You bite it."
Zheng Haizhu said: "Put it back. I didn't need this when I pulled out the arrow before."
His voice was weak from pain, but his tone was firm.
In fact, after he was hit by an arrow in the river harbor at the foot of Sheshan Mountain, Zheng Haizhu was biting a silk stick when the doctor from Songjiang Prefecture came to treat his injury.
But at this moment, a bunch of Jin Yiwei boys were watching around, and not far away stood the maid sent by He Zhuo after hearing the news. Man Gui's voice was also heard outside the tent.
What a great opportunity. He wanted to show off in front of them that although he could not lift a gun or mount a horse, he was more tough than ordinary soldiers. Where warriors gather together, this is what is important.
When the medical officer heard this, he also saw an old injury next to the blood stain, and said with some admiration: "Then, little one, start digging."
The apprentice came up with a plate, which contained a set of thick needles that had just been roasted over an open fire.
The medical officer observed carefully and ordered his apprentice to use two steel needles to push out the bloody and somewhat sunken skin in a specific direction. He gently pinched the only two-inch long wooden pole behind the arrowhead and weighed it to the point of precision. The propriety of the top is slightly twisted.
Even though his movements were as light as those of later generations of surgeons, and Zheng Haizhu was mentally prepared for the intensity of the pain because of his experience, he couldn't help but "hiss" when the dull pain suddenly turned into sharp pain. There was a sound.
The medical officer immediately stopped, frowning and hesitated.
Zheng Haizhu immediately changed from moaning to swallowing, and in turn ordered the medical officer: "The long-term pain is worse than the short-term pain. This is not embroidery. Just pull it out in one go! No matter how painful it is, it won't hurt a woman giving birth."
The medical officer then twisted the arrow shaft again, found the feel in his hand, exerted force with his fingers, and pulled out the arrowhead in an instant.
The pain is intense, but it will indeed not escalate.
Although Zheng Haizhu gritted his teeth, he let out a sigh of relief.
The medical officer's apprentice quickly threw away the steel needle, picked up a clean ball of cloth, and pressed it hard on the arrow wound.
"Hey," the medical officer wiped the arrowhead with dry grass, looked at it for a few seconds, then put it under his nose and smelled it, and asked curiously, "Is this fine work also Tatar? How come it is not rusty like other Tatar arrowheads? I’ve never fed feces or urine before. Hey, I’m really a newbie.”
Zheng Haizhu understood what the medical officer meant. In ancient times, there were no antibiotics, and trauma was the most feared infection. Rust and feces were good carriers of fungi and bacteria. Therefore, experienced soldiers or sentinel assassins, if there is no shortage of horse dung, will put some dung on the arrowhead.
The medical officer just suffered from an occupational disease and blurted out, but Ma Xianglin's face sank and he reprimanded in Shili dialect: "What's going on? He must be a veteran and let half of my wife's arm rot?"
Zheng Haizhu was afraid that if he went into more detail about this matter, He Zhuo's maid, who did not understand Sichuan dialect, would notice the strangeness, so she quickly took over the conversation and said to the medical officer: "You have been rescuing people for the past two days. Stuffing the intestines back into the brothers, after seeing too much shit, will your mind be filled with shit?"
Without waiting for the doctor to apologize in panic, he softened his tone, thanked him sincerely, and ordered the wound to be sewn up quickly, smearing enough honey to isolate the air and prevent further infection.
After a lot of trouble, this Ming Dynasty's surgical operation was finally completed.
Zheng Haizhu said to He Zhuo's maid: "Go and tell Sister Ketun that I will be fine. As soon as the warriors you have arrived, we can break camp and set off. I still want to go to Chahanhot."
Everyone left one after another, and Zheng Haizhu asked General Jin Yiwei to go to the door and watch.
The only ones left in the tent were Ma Xianglin and Xu San.
"That girl is really good at archery," Ma Xianglin put the honey bowl aside, sat down and said in a deep voice, "she is also good at riding."
Zheng Haizhu's pain eased a little, and he became more energetic in his speech. He said concisely and concisely: "After her hidden stake is inserted, Xu San will have a reliable informant to pick up the matter. I, Jingzhong, are in charge of the spy information." Li Daniu doesn't even know. Xianglin, your troops and I, whether in Songjiang, Chongming or in Xuandaji Town, can't be blind to the situation of building a slave lair. Look at the four-beile Huang Taiji, although I’m afraid of you when I mount up to fight, but my ability to send spies everywhere in the Ming Dynasty is quite impressive.”
Ma Xianglin nodded and said to Xu San: "I will also choose someone among my close friends who can learn Northern dialect quickly, and I will only contact you."
"Young man, I understand," Xu San responded, and then sighed, "General Ma was so brave that he captured Dege Lei alive. We originally thought that sending back a Jia La forehead would be enough, but we didn't expect that we would directly get the old slave's blood." The son is also Mang Gurtai’s half-brother.”
Ma Xianglin said calmly: "It was your brother-in-law who helped your wife succeed. If your hometown is peaceful in the future, whether you want to move the bones of your sister and nephew here, or send your brother-in-law's coffin back to your hometown, I will order someone to help you. Get this done.”
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(Sorry, I was in a hurry, I only updated 1,700 words today, sorry, sorry)
