Chapter 133: Saving a Life

It is safe to say that these two youths from the residential compound will never forget this stench for the rest of their lives.

Xiao Weiguo watched from a distance, thinking that this was far more thrilling than any television show. He decided that whenever he was free in the future, he should attend such spectacles just to pass the time; without mobile phones or television, life was truly incredibly boring.

Seeing the actions of the Tiger and Leopard brothers, Xiao Weiguo couldn't help but marvel at what absolute talents they were, while simultaneously lamenting the waste of those two sets of beige uniforms—after this engagement, they had certainly become an even deeper shade of beige.

At the center of the fray, the duel between the two ringleaders reached a fever pitch. Hao Zhenhua, having defended for too long, eventually faltered. A moment of carelessness allowed a blade to graze his arm, causing his posture to collapse. Seizing the opportunity, the leader of the tenement courtyard charged forward, plunging his sharp knife directly into Hao Zhenhua’s abdomen.

"You son of a bitch, you’re playing for keeps..." Hao Zhenhua slowly slumped to the ground.

The two factions fighting nearby were stunned into silence as they watched Hao Zhenhua collapse, the knife still protruding from his stomach. The leader of the tenement courtyard was drenched in a cold sweat; he hadn't intended for this to happen. He had only wanted to intimidate his opponent. In past brawls with drifters, the mere sight of his knife was usually enough to make the other side back down. But today, this Hao Zhenhua had been too tough to beat, and having fought to a stalemate, he had lost his temper and disregarded the consequences.

*It’s over. I’ve killed someone, and a kid from the compound at that.* The tenement leader glanced left and right. Seeing that no one was paying attention to him, he abandoned his crew and fled into the distance. The rest of the tenement men, seeing their leader stab someone and run, scattered like birds and beasts.

Within ten seconds, only the group of compound youths remained, standing around the fallen Hao Zhenhua in a state of utter helplessness. A young man also dressed in beige, named Cai Feng, rushed over to check on Hao Zhenhua’s condition, shaking him and calling out, "Zhenhua! Are you okay? Wake up, wake up!"

He failed to notice that his movements were causing the blood to flow more profusely from the abdominal wound. Hao Zhenhua weakly opened his eyes, murmuring, "Damn... it hurts like hell. Was it worth it for a woman? Is this what death feels like? I wish I could take one last good look at this world."

The group of youths prepared to lift Hao Zhenhua by his arms and legs to take him to the hospital. Watching from afar, Xiao Weiguo was shocked by the outcome. That tenement leader was absolutely finished. Seeing the youths about to move him in such a reckless manner—which was essentially accelerating his death—Xiao Weiguo knew he could no longer stand by.

He ran over, shouting, "Put him down! Do you want to kill him?"

Cai Feng looked at this stranger with confusion. In their past brawls, this was how they always transported the injured to the hospital.

"This is a penetrating wound," Xiao Weiguo explained. "He likely has massive internal hemorrhaging. You can't move him like that, or he’ll die faster."

Realizing the stranger made sense, Cai Feng asked anxiously, "Brother, what should we do?"

Xiao Weiguo knelt down to examine the wound. Seeing the abnormal volume of blood from the abdominal cavity, he made a grim preliminary judgment: he wouldn't survive. In his previous life, he had encountered similar situations. Even with modern emergency services, the internal bleeding had been fatal. It was his first experience with the death of a peer. Looking at Hao Zhenhua, who was at most eighteen or nineteen, Xiao Weiguo felt a pang of pity. With his background, he was destined to be a prominent figure in the country, yet he was being snuffed out by a mere nobody.

He couldn't bear it. Suddenly, he remembered how his spring water had briefly sustained the mother of the little yellow dog, Wangcai, despite her severe injuries. *Could it work here?*

He mentally drew out a glob of water, pried open the youth's mouth, and channeled the water inside. As he watched Hao Zhenhua subconsciously swallow, the youth suddenly opened his eyes, fixed a deep, searching gaze on Xiao Weiguo, and then lapsed back into unconsciousness.

"Quick, go to the street and find a flatbed cart and some quilts," Xiao Weiguo ordered. Seeing that a cart couldn't enter the park, he added, "Find a door panel, quickly!"

Cai Feng immediately led a few men to gather the supplies. In a crisis, having a steady hand in charge gave everyone a sense of direction. Before long, Cai Feng returned carrying a door panel, accompanied by another youth with two quilts and two adults who were grumbling—evidently, they had been strong-armed into helping from nearby homes. However, upon seeing the wounded man, the adults stopped complaining and began to assist.

In this era, if you were clearly not a bad person, you would receive selfless, wholehearted help from strangers whenever you were in need.

They carefully placed Hao Zhenhua onto the door panel and carried him out of the park. A donkey-drawn cart was waiting outside. They laid the quilts on it, gently transferred him, and the group rushed toward the nearest hospital, Jishuitan Hospital.

Whether he would survive now depended on his own resilience; Xiao Weiguo had done all he could.

One might ask why they didn't call an ambulance. The reason was simple: they didn't exist. The 120 emergency system would not be introduced until the eighties; in this era, everyone transported their own injured to the hospital. Furthermore, the doctor-patient relationship was at its best during this time. Once a patient was handed over, the family trusted the doctors implicitly; even if a patient died, they wouldn't dream of blaming the medical staff. There were even cases where, if a doctor’s oversight led to a patient’s death, the family would buy gifts for the doctor and set off firecrackers at the hospital to "ward off the bad luck" that had visited the facility. The doctors of this era truly possessed medical ethics; they didn't care about red tape—their only thought was to save the patient.

Xiao Weiguo did not follow them to the hospital. He had done his part, and with so many people around—and likely a group of high-ranking officials arriving soon—his presence wasn't needed.

His original intention today had been to see if he could trap the Yang brothers, but he hadn't found an opportunity. He would have to see how things developed later. He had to guard against the brothers throwing more waste; he didn't want them acting again after he finished the house renovations. He needed to resolve this within the next few days, or it would remain a constant source of anxiety.

Looking at the sun overhead, Xiao Weiguo didn't want to return to the residential compound just yet, lest he be roped into chores by the First Uncle again. He had provided Zhou Xiaoming with a batch of supplies a couple of days ago; he wondered how the sales were going. Perhaps he should go check on that now.