"It's so late," Li Ang observed, frowning. He walked to the door and asked, "Who is it?"
"It's Lu Yi. My mother and I met you, Doctor Li, during the Dragon Boat Festival," the young girl's voice cried from outside. "Please, you must save my mother!"
"Hm?"
Li Ang glanced through the door's seam. Memories of the mother and daughter he had seen buying hairpins by the riverbank during the Dragon Boat Festival flashed through his mind. He immediately unbolted the door and asked the teary-eyed little girl, "What's wrong with your mother?"
"My mother, my mother's having a difficult labor," Lu Yi said through her tears. "The midwife said... she said there's no hope left."
"How long has the labor been difficult?"
Li Ang instantly shook off his reading fatigue and hurried back into the inner room. He grabbed his medical bag filled with various items and, with a casual kick, flung open the front door. "Where is she?"
"In East City, not far..." Lu Yi managed, struggling to stop crying as she ran ahead to lead the way.
Li Ang and Chai Cuiqiao followed. They crossed Yizhou Bridge, wound through the alleys, and after several twists and turns, arrived at a secluded courtyard. As soon as they entered the house, they heard the heart-wrenching screams of the woman in labor.
BANG!
Li Ang pushed the door open. Lu Yi's mother lay on the bed, drenched in cold sweat, her knees bent and covered with a cloth. The old midwife sat on a stool at the foot of the bed, her forehead soaked with sweat.
Seeing Li Ang burst in, the midwife started. "Young Master, how can you just barge in...?"
"I'm Li Ang."
Li Ang cut the midwife off. Paying little heed to her, he squeezed past and began his observation.
Uterine contractions are weak, and the fetal head isn't descending.
Li Ang's heart sank. He stood up and bombarded the midwife with questions, "When did the labor start? How many hours has it been now?"
"Seven, no, eight hours!" the midwife exclaimed, counting on her fingers. Her face turned pale as she asked, "Young Master, are you that genius doctor with the recommendation letter from the Academic Palace?"
"That's me."
Li Ang wasted no time on pleasantries, his eyes quickly scanning Lu Yi's mother's deathly pale face.
Eight hours of labor had exhausted the mother. Every minute of delay now meant more danger for both her and the baby.
We must find a way to deliver the baby.
Li Ang pursed his lips tightly. The best solution at this moment would be a cesarean section, but without anesthesia or a sterile environment, that's nothing but a pipe dream.
Forceps!
Li Ang clenched his fist decisively and turned to Lu Yi. "Do you have paper and a brush? Bring them quickly. I need a fine-tipped brush."
"Yes, yes."
Lu Yi, her face deathly pale, hurried to get the paper and brush. Li Ang took the brush and, on the paper, drew three diagrams of what looked like separated tongs—a front view, a side view, and a top view of the forceps—annotating each with specific dimensions and instructions.
"Stay here, take good care of the mother, and boil some water! I'll be back soon!" Li Ang commanded sternly. Taking the forceps schematics, he instructed Lu Yi, Chai Cuiqiao, and the midwife to look after the patient, then rushed out, heading straight for Pu Liuxuan's home.
Fortunately, the two places were not far apart. Li Ang sprinted with all his might, gasping for air as he pounded on Pu Liuxuan's door. "Teacher, Teacher, is Senior Brother Cheng here?"
"Risheng," Pu Liuxuan said, yawning as he opened the door. Seeing Li Ang's anxious expression, his drowsiness vanished instantly. "What's wrong?" he asked seriously.
Li Ang urgently shook the schematics in his hand. "There's a woman having a difficult labor. We need Senior Brother Cheng to use the Iron Casting Technique to forge obstetric forceps."
Pu Liuxuan glanced at the schematics and spoke very quickly, "Ju Xiu isn't here. He found his own courtyard to live in—Salt Well Street, the third house from the east end. I don't know if he's there now."
"Thank you, Teacher."
Li Ang bowed, grabbed the schematics, and ran toward Salt Well Street. He recognized the house number and was about to knock when he noticed the courtyard gate was ajar.
Pushing the wooden gate open, he saw Cheng Juxiu sitting solemnly in the courtyard. Cheng Juxiu's right hand was extended, palm down. Beneath it, the Flying Sword hovered, its twin edges wreathed in azure sword light.
Opposite Cheng Juxiu stood a figure perched atop a large tree branch in the courtyard. The figure wore a bamboo hat, its brim hung with a black gauze veil that obscured their features. Dressed entirely in black night clothes, only their hands, gripping two slender daggers, were visible. Their face and gender remained indeterminable.
A palpable fighting intent built silently between them, the dust on the ground stirring faintly. A Light-seeking Insect, drawn instinctively to the candlelight on the stone table beside Cheng Juxiu, flew towards it. Just as it crossed the invisible axis of their confrontation, an unseen force sliced it cleanly in two without a sound. The pieces fell to the ground.
Li Ang's sudden intrusion was like a stone cast into a still lake, sending ripples through the tense atmosphere.
Both figures, without a word, shifted their gazes to him.
"Risheng, you're here," Cheng Juxiu said, a faint smile touching his lips.
Li Ang compressed his lips slightly. "Senior Brother... are you in the middle of something?"
"Yep."
Cheng Juxiu nodded. "An old acquaintance is visiting. Do you need something?"
"A woman is having a difficult birth. I need you to use the Iron Casting Technique to forge obstetric forceps to help with the delivery."
Li Ang hesitated. "Senior Brother, is this a bad time?"
"Not at all."
Cheng Juxiu gestured, and a summoned breeze snatched the schematics from Li Ang's hand.
SNAP.
Cheng Juxiu caught the schematics and glanced over them. Ignoring the "old acquaintance" still perched on the branch, he bent down, picked up an iron box from the ground, and calmly took out two silver ingots.
As he turned the knob on the iron box, just as he had before, releasing flames to melt the silver ingots, he casually asked, "Risheng, what are these obstetric forceps?"
"It's an instrument to aid women in childbirth. It can resolve difficult fetal head presentations, shorten the second stage of labor, and help conclude the pregnancy sooner."
Li Ang glanced at the black-clad figure on the branch, whose allegiance was unclear, and said solemnly, "The forceps can grip the baby's head, much like tongs. During delivery, they assist in extracting the baby through traction. Because the forceps are curved to fit the fetal head, proper use won't cause injury. This increases the survival rate for both mother and child in cases of difficult labor."
Cheng Juxiu, already deploying the Iron Casting Technique, asked in surprise, "You invented this yourself?"
"Well... sort of," Li Ang answered hesitantly.
Actually, the history of forceps can be traced back to murals from the Ptolemaic Dynasty around 250 BC. Doctor Galen of Ancient Rome also used an early version. But now isn't the time to explain all that.
"Childbirth is so difficult for women. Countless mothers die on the birthing bed, turning a child's birthday into the anniversary of their mother's suffering," Cheng Juxiu said seriously. "If these obstetric forceps are truly effective, this achievement alone would guarantee your entry into the Academic Palace. The State Mansions in Yizhou, and indeed throughout the Yu Country, would erect living temples in your honor, grateful for your immeasurable merit."
As long as it works and can save people, that's what matters. Li Ang shook his head. For some reason, the hostility emanating from the black-clad figure on the branch seemed to lessen considerably.