Though he looked down on the man, they were comrades now. With a life at stake, he could not simply stand aside as their captain.
Lin Qinghe hurried to Yuan Jingfan's side and bent down to examine his condition.
Rattling sounds came from Yuan Jingfan's mouth as he struggled for breath.
Lin Qinghe immediately pressed his acupoints and administered emergency treatment.
But after working for a short while, sweat slid down her smooth forehead. She glanced at the other critically wounded man who had been brought over, then finally sighed softly. "I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do."
Those words were as good as a death sentence for Yuan Jingfan.
"Medical Officer Lin, save... save me—" His eyes bloodshot, Yuan Jingfan stared blankly into Lin Qinghe's gentle, beautiful eyes.
He begged her to save him. Her emergency treatment had briefly restored his ability to speak.
This was what people commonly called a final rally before death.
Yuan Jingfan had never imagined that his long-awaited first encounter with this breathtakingly beautiful physician would mark the hour of his death—and he could only see half her face, unable even to make out her full features.
His pupils gradually lost focus.
Hardening her heart, Lin Qinghe stopped attending to him and swiftly turned to the other wounded man, beginning her efforts to save him.
But after examining him for a moment, she could not help tilting her head back, a glimmer of tears appearing in her eyes.
Two wounded men in succession, and she could save neither.
Perhaps this was the helplessness every physician had to face.
Lin Qinghe sighed softly. "Take him over there."
The eyes of the comrade who had escorted the wounded man abruptly dimmed. He was about to lift the stretcher and carry him to the area for those