Quick Wear: Boss, she won again by doing nothing

Chapter 812: Not convinced? Kill him (32)

Zheng Hu stepped into the operating room and saw that she was already wearing sterile clothes and standing there quietly.

The surgical instruments were neatly laid out, the electric standing wheelchair was upright, and she quietly waited for them to arrive.

"Put Tianjie on there, and everyone else except Uncle Zheng, get out!" Xing Rong stared at the person on the operating table with heartache. The boy had his eyes closed and his brows tightly furrowed, as if he was tightly bound by a rope of pain.

The slightly oversized clothes slipped down to the shoulders, revealing the shadow accumulated in the depression of the collarbone, like a deep black hole. Bullet holes bloomed in the shriveled abdomen, and dark red bloodstains crawled slowly along the wrinkled skin like a ferocious venomous snake.

His body lacked sufficient fat for blood to flow smoothly, and the sticky fluid meandered with difficulty between his jagged bones, like the last trickle in a dry riverbed.

The torn clothes and rolled up flesh were entangled together, with charred marks on the edges, making the hideous wound look like a cheap firework stuffed into the abdominal cavity, solidifying into a permanent scar at the moment of explosion.

Xing Rong did not hesitate at all. She cut open the blood-stained clothes like an entomologist dissecting butterfly wings. The blood-stained cloth peeled off with a crisp sound similar to that of a cicada peeling off tree bark.

The smell of disinfectant dissolved into a chloride ion storm in Xingxuan's nose, and the skin texture on Tianjie's abdomen collapsed into a cellular maze in her eyes. Under the blood-soaked gauze, macrophages were pushing the rust-colored warheads, like ants carrying a metal beetle a hundred times larger than themselves.

Xing Rong picked up the tweezers, which automatically disassembled into a molecular matrix in her eyes, and the twelve kinds of microbial spores remaining on the surface of the chromium-nickel alloy were clearly visible under the shadowless lamp. The moment her fingertips touched the wound, the keratin cells of the epidermis suddenly became transparent.

Her vision penetrated the rectus abdominis fascia and saw the quantum scars left by the bullet on the ileum mesentery. The torn collagen fibers were vibrating at a frequency of 80,000 times per second, releasing ultrasonic distress signals that only she could perceive.

The mast cells around the trajectory suddenly exploded collectively, and the histamine torrent turned into purple smoke in Xingxuan's field of vision.

She pressed the inferior mesenteric artery branch with her left ring finger, and felt the wave of nitric oxide released by the endothelial cells. The blood-stained hemostatic forceps penetrated into the intercellular gap she had foreseen, and the forceps bit not the metal bullet, but the granuloma formed by the neutrophils that were devouring the shrapnel.

In her magnified field of view, the copper-zinc alloy on the surface of the bullet was producing a micro-battery effect with the tissue fluid, and each hydrogen bubble produced by the electrochemical reaction was marked with a precise timestamp.

When the bullet left the peritoneum, 2 metal particles suddenly escaped collectively in the lymphatic vessels. The scalpel vibrated at a frequency of Hz to cut open the cisterna chyli, and the blade moved along the gaps patrolled by T lymphocytes. She picked out the metal debris and placed it on the gauze.

Xing Rong quickly treated his wounds. The sutures shuttled through the flesh and blood. The needle tip was like a nimble dancer, pulling the translucent casing to dance lightly. Finally, he skillfully wrapped the bandage in a spiral around his skinny waist and abdomen.

After treating Tianjie's injury, Xingrong was already sweating profusely. She turned the wheelchair back to the seat position and went to help Zheng Hu treat the gunshot wound on his arm.

Zheng Hu was stunned watching from the side. He witnessed the whole process of Xing Rong's operation. Her movements were as smooth as flowing water. She didn't look like a novice at all. Instead, she looked more like an experienced doctor who had been on the operating table for many years.

She completed the operation on her own without any help from others. Is this really something that can be done just by reading medical books?