Lin Dan Khan quietly retreated, and Wang Zezhi did not go out to pursue, but reorganized the sergeants, ready to fight again at any time.

He always felt that Lin Dan Khan would not retreat so easily.

"My lord, the Tartar grain and grass camp was burned, and they really withdrew."

When it was ugly, the sentry came to report.

Wang Zezhi breathed a sigh of relief, it seems that Lin Dan Khan has really retreated, and without food and grass, Lin Dan Khan's tens of thousands of troops will be demoralized and morale will be lost in less than a day.

Confirming that Lin Dan Khan had really retreated, Wang Zezhi ordered the sergeants to count the number of people and clean up the battlefield.

Under Wang Zezhi's order, the sergeants went out of the fort one after another to clean up the battlefield.

Because the horse and human corpses at the gate were glued together and difficult to separate, the soldiers had to make ladders or use ropes to climb out of the fort.

Wang Zezhi came to the city gate, smelled the unpleasant stench, and ordered the sergeant to choose a weak city wall and blow a gap.

With this gap, not only can the sergeants enter and exit freely, but the horses and supplies can also be transported out.

The sergeants came to the outside of the fort and cut off the heads of the tartars, stripped off the armor of their weapons, and made up for the serious wounds of some who did not die, and also cut off the heads.

To the delight of the sergeants, there were still some war horses running around on the battlefield, and they happily gathered the war horses everywhere, and finally counted six hundred and eighty horses, which was also a surprise.

In addition to these, there were shield carts, ballistae, trebuchets damaged by shelling.

For these things, the sergeants didn't give up, and the king didn't have any of these things, and they could still be used if they were repaired.

It was already dawn when the battlefield was cleaned, but Wang Zezhi did not leave immediately, but was stationed in Xia Mizhuang, which has a camp left by the Tartars, which can be used with a little repair.

He was stationed here mainly for the sergeants who came to the guerrilla battalion for reinforcements.

Otherwise, as soon as he leaves, these people will definitely panic when they come and don't see him.

At the station of Xia Mizhuang, the king ordered to bury the pot and make rice, and ate the war horses that the Tartars had killed.

Horse meat was a good kind of meat, and the sergeants were given large pieces of horse meat, which they devoured one by one, and ate with their mouths full of oil.

In Wang Zezhi's tent, generals such as Ah Niu, Qi Qi, and Xiong Jiachang gathered together.

At this moment, none of them were uninjured, including Wang Zezhi, who was wiped on his arm by a Tartar arrow.

"My lord, there are only 1,317 of us, everyone else has died in battle, those who are seriously injured, the medicine stone is difficult to save, most of them have not survived the night, and even if they do, they will not die."

Ah Niu choked up and made a report.

In this era, if you are seriously injured, you are basically not saved, even if Yang Zhihui tries his best and does his best, he only rescues some of the injured ones who are not serious, and those who are seriously injured have not been able to carry it overnight.

After listening to this, Wang Zezhi shouted: "Manly man, what are you crying about." ”

"My lord, it's not good, it's not good." A small soldier rushed into the big account in a panic and reported it.

"Panic what, say it slowly no matter what." Wang Zezhi said flatly.

"My lord, Doctor Yang, Doctor Yang has hysteria." The soldier pointed in the direction of treating the wounded and sick, and said worriedly.

Wang Zezhi got up and rushed over without saying a word.

"Something is wrong, something is wrong, why can't it be saved?

The tradition of medicine, ancestral therapy, even if you can't live and die human flesh and bones, you should be able to save yourself from being injured, right?

Tell me, tell me, what did I do wrong? ”

Yang Zhihui staggered in a trance, and asked when he saw people, as if he was crazy.

Yang Zhihui was stimulated, he had tried his best, he had tried his best, but the seriously injured sergeants were still dying one after another, which made him have great doubts about his medical skills, and doubt made his faith collapse, and it became like this.

"Smack!"

Wang Zezhi walked up quickly and slapped him hard with a big ear scraper.

Yang Zhihui shook his head and blinked his eyes, as if he had regained some consciousness.

Wang Zezhi grabbed him by the collar and said, "Can't stand it?" That's what you're capable of. ”

"I... I'm useless. Yang Zhihui didn't know what to say, so he slapped himself.

Wang Zezhi let him go, straightened his collar, and said, "Look at your little bit of breath, isn't it a serious injury that is difficult to treat?" You open your eyes wide. ”

Wang Zezhi went to the tent where the wounded were treated, rolled up his sleeves, and planned to practice some of the healing methods he had seen on the Internet.

He came to a sergeant whose calf was smashed by a stone, and the fine flesh and bones were hanging on the side of the bed, and asked Yang Zhihui, "Is there any hemostatic medicine?" ”

"Yes, yes." Yang Zhihui said and pulled four or five bottles of hemostatic medicine.

Wang Zezhi took a deep breath, first tightened the base of the sergeant's thigh with a rope, and stuffed a wooden board into the sergeant's mouth, he had no anesthetic but so.

"Bring me a saw." Wang Zezhi stretched out his hand, and Yang Zhihui handed over the saw. Worry-free Literature Network

He looked at Wang Zezhi's sawing legs, and said tremblingly: "No, no, this will cause too much blood, and once the blood is lost, it will not be saved." ”

"Fool, burn the soldering iron, burn it red, hurry up." Wang Zezhi was sweating profusely, and his head would not shout.

Yang Zhihui panicked and ordered someone to bring the charcoal basin and burn the soldering iron.

Wang Zezhi sawed the sergeant's legs, and took a reddish soldering iron to burn the sergeant's broken point back and forth.

The sergeant was also a man, even if he gritted his teeth, trembled all over, and sweated profusely, he did not say a word until Wang Zezhi finished sawing his leg and sealed the wound with a red soldering iron.

"What are you doing in a daze, stop the bleeding and apply medicine." Wang Zezhi shouted at Yang Zhihui who was in a daze.

Yang Zhihui immediately got busy.

Wang Zezhi wiped the sweat from his forehead, and he was afraid, he didn't know if these methods would work.

"Okay, saved, saved, saved, able to live." Yang Zhihui checked the sergeant's pulse and shouted happily.

Wang Zezhi saw that the sergeant was fine, and slowly untied the rope that was tightened at the base of his thigh.

"My lord, what is the reason for tying a rope?" Yang Zhihui saw Wang Zezhi untie the rope and asked curiously.

"The limb at the proximal end of the wound is given with a strap to block the arterial blood flow at the proximal end of the wound and thus achieve hemostasis.

However, this method of proximal strapping must be relaxed once in a quarter of an hour or half an hour or so to avoid avascular necrosis caused by long-term ischemia of the distal limb. ”

Wang Zezhi patiently explained, Yang Zhihui listened carefully, but what he listened to was foggy, such as what is the artery? He didn't know.

He didn't ask immediately, but wrote it down carefully, because he knew that the medical Tao was broad and profound, and the knowledge in it was complicated, and it was not something that could be learned in a moment.

"My lord, what about this..."Yang Zhihui wanted to continue asking.

"Save people first."

"Ahh My arm..."

"Ahh

"Heh~hiss~"

In the tent, some people have more air out and less air intake, and they are no longer saved, and some people are still saved, but with Yang Zhihui's medical skills, they can no longer do anything.

Yang Zhihui has studied incurable diseases, but surgery is his shortcoming, which is also the reason for his collapse.

Wang Zezhi looked around and saw that the attack of this Tartar was extremely fierce, and the arrows of the Tartar were quite vicious.

There were also barbs on their arrows, and Yang Zhihui didn't dare to pull them out, so he could only cut the arrows and let the arrows continue to stay inside.

Many sergeants were consumed alive by the arrows in their bodies, Wang Zezhi carefully observed the wounds and came up with a solution.

Use a scalpel that has been burned to open the wound along the incision of the arrow, and then remove the arrowhead.

Fortunately, Yang Zhihui has some knives for treating wounds, and he also has the technique of using knives.

The next thing is easy to do, Wang Zezhi is responsible for finding a way, and Yang Zhihui is responsible for the operation.

The wound is shallow, but the whole process of the wound is too deep, because it has to be scalded with a scalded scalpel to go deeper, and sometimes it will cause secondary trauma.

However, even so, the sergeants looked at Yang Zhihui with anticipation.

If you pull out the arrow, it hurts, and if you can't pull it out, you may die.

Perhaps it was influenced by the first sergeant, and the sergeants who were treated later gritted their teeth and persisted, not saying a word during the treatment.

There was no sound in the tent except for the moans of the healing sergeants waiting in line.

However, there were many smells in the tent, in addition to the smell of medicine, blood, and the smell of burnt meat.

Wang Zezhi and Yang Zhihui were busy until noon, and finally rescued many seriously injured sergeants.

Yang Zhihui handled the whole process, and he felt that Wang Zezhi helped him open a new door.

At this moment, Wang Zezhi is still instilling new knowledge in him.

"Let me tell you, those sergeants who died of blood loss can actually be saved.

They lost blood, we can give them blood transfusions.

However, it cannot be transfused indiscriminately, and there are models of blood.

There are Type A, Type B, Type AB, Type O, and Rare Types..."

Yang Zhihui licked the brush in his hand on his tongue and took notes seriously.

The reason why Yang Zhihui is so serious is because when he was treating the sergeants, he found that everything Wang Zezhi asked him to do had his meaning.

Behind this meaning is a new kind of medicine.