Wound Treatment

Qin Fang woke again, jolted from sleep by pain.

It was as if a red-hot knife were slicing into his left shoulder. The intense pain made him furrow his brow before he slowly opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was a lean, refined old man in his sixties, standing over him and focused intently on his work.

His consciousness gradually returned. His nose was completely blocked, and breathing was difficult.

He opened his eyes. The old man's hands paused for a moment, then he spoke in a rather cool tone.

"The wound on your left shoulder's rotted. I'll have to cut away the dead flesh before it can heal... You've got a hard life, kid. You've held on this long with such a serious wound, and only now has it finally caught up with you."

Qin Fang said nothing. He struggled to lift his head and look at his left shoulder.

The old man held a small, curved knife. It was razor-sharp, glinting coldly as it cut into the wound.

The wound seemed to have been cleaned. The dirt was gone, but that only made the severity of the injury more apparent... The whole thing had rotted, and black pus was oozing out, covering the wound. The surrounding skin was red, swollen, and taut.

The knife sank in, gouging out a piece of flesh that had already turned black.

It was this bad?

Then he let out a muffled groan...

The old man kept cutting.

The knife seemed to have been heated. It burned, and Qin Fang could even feel the slick sensation of the blade slicing through his flesh.

The hairs on his body stood on end.

The old man wasn't just cutting into the wound. He was cutting into the swollen flesh around it, and he was ruthless!

As Qin Fang's mind grew clearer, so did the pain.

In only a short while, sweat had beaded on his forehead, and his whole body was trembling.

But he gritted his teeth and kept quiet.

He didn't dare move, either.

He did his best to cooperate with the old man's treatment.

Fortunately, the old man worked quickly. Before long, he had gouged out a large chunk of rotten flesh and placed it on a porcelain dish. It was black, even the pus, and so disgusting it made Qin Fang's skin crawl.

At last, it was over...

Qin Fang was just letting out a secret sigh of relief.

But then a burst of pain, far worse than before, hit him. Even Qin Fang couldn't help groaning and drawing a sharp breath.

He looked again and saw that the old man was squeezing his wound hard.

"The poisoned pus hasn't been completely cleared. I need to see fresh blood."

The old man was merciless with his hands, but his expression remained cool.

This hurt far more than cutting away the dead flesh. Even Qin Fang couldn't help groaning aloud after a while. His whole body shook with pain, and he nearly went into convulsions.

At last, fresh blood seeped from the wound.

The old man wiped the wound with a piece of cloth of unknown material. After cleaning away the blood, he took a jar from beside him and used a bamboo sliver to scoop up a clump of thick, sticky black paste. Carefully, he spread it over Qin Fang's wound.

Once the wound was covered, he laid a piece of cloth over it. It looked much like gauze, though its material was unknown.

Strangely enough, as soon as the black ointment covered the wound, the searing pain gradually gave way to a cool sensation that helped suppress it.

Only then did Qin Fang let out a long breath.

Then he spoke.

"How long will it take for my wounds to heal?"

Only after he spoke did he realize how hoarse his voice was.

The old man kept working, answering calmly, "Hard to say. Depends on the person. Some people are healthier, so they heal faster. But you... At least half a year."

Qin Fang's brows drew together... He was a refugee, and his body was indeed weak to the extreme.

After a short silence, he asked, "What about the person who brought me here?"

The old man's hands paused briefly before he continued working. In an even tone, he said, "Waiting outside... I'm rather curious. The Iron Tiger Gang are notorious for being ruthless and vicious. You're a drifter—how'd you get them to take pity on you and save you? They even seem to be in a hurry..."

At that, Qin Fang's cheek twitched, but he didn't answer. Instead, he asked quietly, "The Iron Tiger Gang?"

"You don't know?"

Qin Fang shook his head.

The old man raised his brows, a strange look crossing his face.

This kid didn't even know about the Iron Tiger Gang. How had he met Wang Long?

Wang Long was a notorious tough in True Martial County, famous for his cold face and hard heart. If he didn't know Qin Fang, why had he personally brought him here for treatment?

And in such a hurry, too?

He'd even...

Been willing to pay any price.

He had paid a full ten silver taels.

...Squeezing silver out of Wang Hu and the other toughs was no easy feat.

Seeing that Qin Fang had no intention of answering, the old man didn't press him. "The wound on your waist hasn't been treated yet, but it's lighter than the one on your shoulder. Bear with it."

Someone had struck him with a hoe on the waist. The wound covered a larger area, but it wasn't as deep as the one on his shoulder, so it was comparatively less serious.

Qin Fang merely let out a quiet breath and nodded. He didn't speak again.

He wanted to ask about the Iron Tiger Gang... But he didn't know this old man or what his relationship with them was, so he didn't dare ask rashly.

He cooperatively strained to lift his body and turn onto his side. He could feel that his fever was still rising. His body ached, and he had no strength.

As he moved, he glanced at his feet... They were already wrapped in bandages, and seemed to have been treated.

There was indeed a cool sensation coming from the soles of his feet... They didn't hurt too much.

The old man picked up the small knife again, held it over the fire, and started cutting away the dead flesh.

Qin Fang felt that excruciating pain once more.

But he gritted his teeth. Sweat streamed down his forehead, and he still didn't cry out.

Fortunately, the old man worked quickly. A few minutes later, he had dug out more rotting flesh and pressed fresh blood from the wound.

After applying the same ointment, Qin Fang finally let out a long breath.

He relaxed completely.

As soon as he did, his head began to spin again... He'd used up too much strength.

He had already been weak, and after enduring all that, he felt even worse.

"You've got a pretty tough spirit."

The old man had watched Qin Fang's reactions the whole time. He couldn't help giving a slight nod.

Just then, the door was suddenly pounded on with a loud bang.

"Old Wu, are you done yet? Has he woken up?"

Someone outside asked impatiently.

That voice... It belonged to the man with the face full of jowls.

Qin Fang's heart sank. A gloomy look surfaced in his eyes.

The old man furrowed his brows slightly, then looked at Qin Fang's reaction. After a moment's silence, he said, "Looks like they can get something out of you?"

Qin Fang was stunned. After a brief silence, he said quietly, "I couldn't hold on any longer. I had no choice. Better to use greed... than kindness."

The old man understood and nodded.

The knocking continued, and only then did the old man call coldly toward the door, "If you think I'm too slow, why don't you do it yourselves?"

The noise outside died down at once. Then someone else spoke up: "Master Wu, come on, don't be mad. We're just worried... Has he woken up?"

Old Wu said nothing. Instead, he looked at Qin Fang.