Shang Qingjun's pretty face was already flushed crimson, fine beads of sweat seeping from her forehead.
One minute, nearly a hundred compressions.
Someone tried to intervene, but Zi Shou stopped them.
Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation. Excellent.
Even in his previous life, Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation had not had a high success rate.
Especially for elderly people, who were most prone to sudden death, properly performed Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation could all but break their ribs. It could only be used in the direst emergencies-a grave question of what to sacrifice.
In his previous life, someone had performed emergency Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation on an elderly person and saved their life, only to be sued for compensation because twelve ribs had been broken during treatment.
The same principle applied here. Ordinary people would struggle to accept it, and even if forced to accept it, they would inevitably harbor resentment.
Saving their life still wasn't good enough. Their ribs were broken!
Broken ribs were trouble too!
Failed to save them? Then you were desecrating the dead!
Whatever you did, it was wrong.
Of course, some people would be grateful, but Zi Shou could simply switch the beams and replace the pillars, as he had with Cesarean Sections, or draft a law like the one concerning operations on women who died in difficult childbirth.
The merit for saving lives belonged to the doctors; the blame for botched treatments and deaths belonged to the emperor.
Something this important had to be clearly distinguished!
Bo Yikao's grief reached its peak. His eyes, which had already closed, abruptly flew open, and he became even more distraught.
His grandmother had passed away, yet she could not rest even in death. Her corpse was being manhandled at will.
"Yuan'er, tilt her head back and lift her chin. Wan'er, clear her mouth."
Without the slightest hesitation, Shang