Gushing blood from his abdomen poured out, rapidly draining away warmth and vitality.
Li Bingqing struggled to widen her eyes, wanting to get a clear look at the person before her.
Even in death, she refused to be a ghost in the dark.
"You... Who... exactly are you!"
The man in black coldly observed Li Bingqing, remaining silent.
He paused, as if contemplating whether to deliver a finishing blow.
Just then, a figure swiftly approached from behind.
Then, a slap, carrying the force of wind and thunder, struck out, sending the man in black flying.
Li Bingqing looked up, straining to see the rescuer's face, and was instantly shocked.
How could it be him?
It turned out that this righteous individual who stepped forward to help was none other than the Song Qiao she had been thinking of!
"Is... is it you?"
For a moment, Li Bingqing was overwhelmed with emotion, a mix of joy and sorrow leaving her unsure how to express herself.
Song Qiao, however, remained composed and calm.
He turned his head to look at the man in black he had sent flying, his tone arrogant.
"This is my woman. No one touches her but me. Do you understand?"
The man in black, sent careening backward, had crashed into a roadside trash can, scattering its contents all over him.
Though not seriously injured, he looked utterly pathetic.
His eyes blazed with fury as he glared at Song Qiao.
*Swish!*
The man in black drew a gleaming dagger from his waist.
He lunged at Song Qiao like a viper, the dagger a blur as it shot towards Song Qiao's vital points.
He seemed intent on relying on his incredible speed to end the fight in one blow.
But unfortunately for him, he had chosen the wrong opponent.
Without even looking, Song Qiao clenched his fist, the size of a sandpot, and casually threw a punch.
*Bang!*
*Crack!*
This seemingly ordinary punch, however, shattered through layers of defense, landing squarely on the man in black's chest.
Ribs snapped with a sickening sound!
The man in black spat out a mouthful of blood, falling backward like a kite with a severed string.
This time, he did not get up from the ground.
With a single punch.
Song Qiao didn't even look back. He scooped Li Bingqing into his arms and carried her out of the airport hall.
The onlookers, hidden at a distance, watched him with awe and dared not approach.
Li Bingqing, having been stabbed in the abdomen and losing a significant amount of blood, was now too weak to speak.
Seeing her condition, Song Qiao couldn't help but smile and tease, "It was just one bet lost against me, what's the big deal? A bet is a bet, why are you running away?"
"Besides, my punishment for you wasn't harsh at all, and it was quite pleasant. You know this isn't the first time."
Hearing Song Qiao's words, Li Bingqing's face flushed slightly.
Her current situation was dire, yet the man holding her wasn't offering comfort but instead took the opportunity to tease her mercilessly.
He was truly... infuriating!
Despite her anger, in her current state, she lacked the strength to argue with Song Qiao.
Song Qiao intentionally said these things to Li Bingqing precisely to provoke her.
As long as she was angry, her mind would remain sharp, and she would be more alert than if she were dazed.
Moreover, those who have lost a lot of blood tend to become drowsy.
Once they fall asleep, many find it hard to wake up.
By provoking Li Bingqing, Song Qiao hoped to make her forget her fatigue.
And indeed, it worked.
Li Bingqing glared fiercely at Song Qiao with her speaking eyes, not a trace of drowsiness in them.
Good, his objective was achieved.
Next, Song Qiao pressed his hand against Li Bingqing's abdomen and pulled out the dagger.
A miraculous sight appeared!
After the dagger was removed, not a single drop of blood flowed from the wound!
It turned out that as Song Qiao had placed his hand on Li Bingqing's abdomen, he had already channeled his true energy, circulating it throughout her body and wrapping around the blood vessels, both large and small, at the wound site.
This way, Li Bingqing's blood would no longer gush out, thus achieving hemostasis from the root cause.
Before long, Song Qiao drove to Jess Clinic.
He got out of the car, once again scooped Li Bingqing into his arms in a bridal carry, and swaggered inside.
He called for a surgeon to examine the wound.
The doctor's face showed astonishment.
"This... the bleeding has already stopped?"
He examined the wound closely and exclaimed in wonder.
"This hemostasis technique is truly ingenious! In my thirty years of practice, I've never seen such a method for stopping bleeding! A master, a true master!"
Hearing this, Song Qiao chuckled and shook his head.
"It's not that exaggerated. I just pressed a few acupoints."
"Doctor, acupoint pressure cannot hold for too long. You must quickly take this opportunity to stitch up the wound."
"Otherwise, if there's heavy bleeding later, it will be troublesome."
The doctor nodded repeatedly.
"No problem! With such excellent hemostasis, it will also greatly facilitate our suturing work!"
With that, he quickly called for a nurse to take the patient to the operating room, while he went to change into his surgical gown and wash his hands, preparing for the surgery.
Treating the wound was not difficult; it was merely a minor surgery.
However, throughout the entire procedure, the chief surgeon's face was filled with shock.
Although Mr. Song said it was just a simple acupoint technique, it was far more complex than he let on.
There were so many acupoints in the human body, each governing different functions.
To accurately locate and seal off the blood vessels in such a short amount of time was no simple feat.
The doctor tried to imagine himself in Song Qiao's place, asking if he could perform such a "pressure hemostasis" in such a short period.
There was no need to guess; the answer was a definitive no.
It was simply because he was more skilled with a scalpel than with acupoint techniques.
Specialization was key.
But this did not stop the doctor from marveling at Song Qiao's prowess.
"Look at this acupoint technique! Without twenty to thirty years of traditional Chinese medicine practice, you could never achieve this!"
The doctor muttered, shaking his head in admiration as he sutured Li Bingqing's blood vessels and tendon tissues.
This left his assistants bewildered, and a strange thought arose in their minds: Was Chinese medicine surgery truly this remarkable?
Especially when they noticed the chief surgeon's excited expression, they fell into deep contemplation.
After the surgery, Li Bingqing's abdominal wound was disinfected and sutured.
She regained her health and a new lease on life.
Song Qiao, once again, gained this beauty.
The doctor gained new insights, forming new ideas for the future of medicine.
A win-win-win situation was thus created.