Chapter 8: Rescue Breathing

First People’s Hospital

The National Day holiday was approaching, but no matter what the occasion, the hospital was always just as busy every day.

Shen Chaoyi had just finished one surgery and was about to head to the outpatient department. Some days, she was practically on the operating table all day long.

As for Yi Qingzhuo, she seemed to have deliberately stopped coming to the hospital. She hadn’t shown up for a single dressing change, nor for the suture removal appointment.

Her back injury had never been followed up either—she had simply vanished.

Gradually, Shen Chaoyi got so busy that she forgot about her. She never took the initiative to contact a patient.

That was, until today. Shen Chaoyi had just finished her rounds in the wards and was walking out.

Chen Ya hung up the phone and called out to her, “Doctor Shen, an ambulance just brought in a severely injured patient.”

Shen Chaoyi grabbed her stethoscope and hurried toward the main entrance.

By the time she got there, the patient had already been taken to the emergency room. Shen Chaoyi turned, pushed open the door, and stepped inside.

“Patient Yi Qingzhuo, twenty-nine years old, female. Extensive trauma to the chest and abdomen. Heart sounds are weak. She had one cardiac arrest on the ambulance, was revived with two minutes of chest compressions, and her heartbeat returned. She’s now unconscious and in a coma. Blood pressure is steadily dropping…”

The ambulance crew was still relaying the patient’s basic information.

But Shen Chaoyi froze for a split second the moment she saw her.

It had been a month since she’d last seen her. Now Yi Qingzhuo was drenched in blood, wearing an oxygen mask. The white T-shirt under her black jacket had already turned completely red.

She lay on the bed, her black hair matted and clumped with blood, her hand dangling limply over the edge.

Someone grabbed her arm to attach the cardiac monitor.

She was utterly unrecognizable as Yi Qingzhuo. She looked like something that had crawled out of hell—lifeless and devoid of any vitality.

Her eyes were closed, her brows furrowed tightly, as if she were enduring pain.

Shen Chaoyi had never imagined she would meet Yi Qingzhuo again like this.

“Doctor Shen.”

Shen Chaoyi stepped forward quickly. “Defibrillator, bedside ultrasound, bedside CT—now!”

She pressed both hands against Yi Qingzhuo’s left chest and began performing rhythmic chest compressions.

The ECG monitor beside her had already flatlined into a straight line. A flicker of panic passed through Shen Chaoyi’s eyes.

She pulled off Yi Qingzhuo’s oxygen mask, pinched her nose with her fingers, and without a moment’s hesitation, pressed her lips against that mouth.

It was soft. She delivered rescue breaths.

Every move Shen Chaoyi made was textbook professional.

“Doctor Shen!” Chen Ya gasped from the side.

The next second, the flat line on the monitor showed a faint blip. Shen Chaoyi lifted her eyes and took a breath.

She continued chest compressions. A thin layer of sweat formed on her forehead. But the ECG monitor remained silent.

Shen Chaoyi glanced at Yi Qingzhuo’s face and kept pressing. “Yi Qingzhuo!”

“Call orthopedics down for a consultation!”

About half an hour later, Shen Chaoyi let out a long breath. “The patient meets surgical indications. Prep the operating room.”

“Are you handling this one?” a male doctor beside the bed, Han Yecheng, asked Shen Chaoyi.

“Yes, I’ll do it with Doctor Liu. He’ll take care of the orthopedic part.” Shen Chaoyi nodded and pushed open the emergency room door.

Outside, Yi Changhuan was waiting anxiously. When she saw Shen Chaoyi come out, she rushed over, her voice thick with tears. “Doctor, how is my daughter?”

“She’s stable for now, but she has multiple stab wounds. Surgery is needed immediately.” Shen Chaoyi pulled off her mask. “A doctor will bring you the surgical consent form shortly and explain the patient’s condition in detail. Please sign it.”

With that, Shen Chaoyi glanced at Yi Changhuan and hurried away.

…

The surgery lasted three hours. Doctor Liu set down his scalpel, and Shen Chaoyi twisted her stiff neck.

Han Yecheng, standing nearby, said to her, “I can do the suturing.”

At this point, the surgery was essentially complete. The final step of suturing could be handed off to the first assistant.

Shen Chaoyi checked the monitor. “No need. I’ll do it.”

She took the suture needle and carefully began closing the wound.

After the last stitch, she glanced out of the corner of her eye at Yi Qingzhuo’s right arm. The sutures she had placed last time were already removed.

The wound hadn’t healed very well. Even though Shen Chaoyi’s suturing technique was excellent—fine and meticulous—the scar was still ugly.

Yi Qingzhuo clearly couldn’t care less about scarring.

Shen Chaoyi lowered her head, slowed her movements, and finished the last stitch.

Setting down the suture scissors, she let out a long breath. Her gaze drifted to Yi Qingzhuo, who was wearing an oxygen mask, her face barely visible.

She had come back from the brink of death.

Her body was covered in countless wounds.

What on earth had she been through?

Every time Shen Chaoyi saw her, the injuries seemed worse.

Over the past month, whenever Shen Chaoyi occasionally thought of that calm, indifferent face, she couldn’t help but feel a tremor in her heart.

To be hurt that badly and not make a single sound.

“Send her to the ICU. Tell the nurses to monitor her heart closely. Contact me immediately if anything changes.” Shen Chaoyi averted her eyes and stepped down from the operating table.

She went to the changing room to take off her surgical gown. Just as she reached the washbasin, Chen Ya followed her in.

“Doctor Shen, Director Zhou is looking for you.” Chen Ya hesitated, as if there was more she wanted to say.

Shen Chaoyi didn’t look up. After four consecutive hours of high mental tension, finally relaxing made her feel utterly drained—both physically and mentally. Even her steps felt heavier.

She pulled out a tissue, dried her hands, and said with practiced calm, “I know.”

“Doctor Shen…” Chen Ya gave her a meaningful look.

She remembered the scene in the emergency room. Her eyes dropped to Shen Chaoyi’s lips.

Shen Chaoyi walked out of the sterile room and stopped at the OR nurses’ station. She motioned for them to give her the surgery record to sign.

“What’s wrong?” Shen Chaoyi held the pen, waiting for Chen Ya to continue.

Chen Ya was usually straightforward—she said whatever came to mind.

Her hesitant tone now was out of character.

Chen Ya looked down. “During the resuscitation earlier, you gave rescue breaths directly without any barrier—not even a bag-valve mask, no protection at all. Director Zhou found out. He seems pretty upset.”

From the start of her internship at this hospital, Shen Chaoyi had always stood out. She remained calm under pressure, handled emergencies well, and her gentle personality made her good with patients. She was a key young physician the hospital was grooming.

But today, when she resuscitated Yi Qingzhuo, the faint panic in her eyes and the direct mouth-to-mouth—everyone in the room had seen it. That was why Chen Ya had blurted out in shock.

It was a mistake even an intern wouldn’t make.

To be fair, direct rescue breathing wasn’t strictly forbidden. It was only supposed to be done in emergencies when there was no bag-valve mask for assisted ventilation.

But even then, a piece of gauze was usually placed as a barrier.

It was basic self-protection for a doctor. You never knew what kind of diseases a patient might carry.

Shen Chaoyi knew all this. So what had she been thinking? Wasn’t she afraid?

No one knew. No one asked.

All anyone knew was that Shen Chaoyi was about to get a scolding.

Shen Chaoyi paused in her writing for a moment, then smoothly signed her name.

She turned and walked toward the door of the operating room.

“Doctor Shen, about this patient…” Chen Ya started, seeing her lack of reaction.

“I’m just a doctor. Her identity has nothing to do with me.” Shen Chaoyi smiled and pushed the door open.

Yi Qingzhuo’s mother was still waiting outside. Doctor Liu had already briefed her.

Since Yi Qingzhuo’s main issue was the stab wounds, she would remain under Shen Chaoyi’s care.

Shen Chaoyi walked over to Yi Changhuan with a smile. “The surgery was successful. But because she’s still weak and experienced cardiac arrest, she needs to stay in the ICU tonight. If she recovers well by tomorrow, she can be moved to a general ward.”

“Thank you, Doctor. Thank you so much. May I ask your name?” Yi Changhuan clasped her hands together and bowed slightly, tears clearly streaking her face.

Shen Chaoyi reached out to steady her. “My surname is Shen.”

“Doctor Shen, truly, thank you for saving my daughter’s life.” After Shen Chaoyi spoke, Yi Changhuan finally noticed the name tag on her chest.

Shen Chaoyi.

Such a beautiful name, just like her—gentle and lovely.

Shen Chaoyi smiled. “It’s my job. I have other matters to attend to. The ICU is upstairs. There are some more consent forms you need to sign. You can go up now.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you, Doctor Shen.” Yi Changhuan nodded quickly.

“You’re welcome.” Shen Chaoyi inclined her head and headed downstairs.

“Shen Chaoyi.” She hadn’t even reached her office when someone called out to her.

She turned around. It was Zhou Jinglong, Director Zhou.

Judging by his expression, he had been waiting for her for a while.

Zhou Jinglong was over fifty, tall and imposing. Just standing there, he radiated a strong sense of pressure.