When it came to Western medicine, Xu’s father always deferred to his son. Though he had some knowledge of it himself, in matters of treatment and emergency care, he naturally followed his son’s lead. Hearing his son call for medication now, he hurriedly drew up a dose of adrenaline from the emergency kit with a syringe and handed it over.
Xu Ze took the syringe, grabbed the child’s arm, and swiftly injected the one milliliter of adrenaline into the deltoid muscle. Then, he resumed chest compressions…
The onlookers watched intently as Xu Ze administered the drug, their eyes wide with anticipation. Only Dr. Hu stood to the side, his face twisted into a cold smirk. If adrenaline had been effective, the child would have already been revived back at the town hospital.
Xu Ze carefully continued the chest compressions, but just as Dr. Hu had expected, there was still no response.
The crowd’s hopeful expressions gradually turned to disappointment. They murmured among themselves, thinking that even Dr. Xu might be out of his depth—that this resuscitation attempt was merely for show.
Seeing that neither the adrenaline nor the bioelectric shocks were working, Xu Ze frowned slightly and said calmly, “Ten milligrams of dexamethasone…”
Xu’s father, though uneasy at Xu Ze’s composed demeanor, quickly drew up the dexamethasone and handed it over.
Xu Ze injected the ten milligrams of dexamethasone into the child’s deltoid muscle and resumed chest compressions, delivering several more bioelectric shocks.
Yet again, the medication seemed to have no effect. The child’s pallid complexion remained unchanged despite Xu Ze’s efforts.
After such a prolonged resuscitation attempt with no response, the child’s father began to lose hope. The mother, who had momentarily stopped crying, started sobbing quietly again.
The crowd grew restless, murmuring among themselves: “This child is probably beyond saving… All this time wasted for nothing!”
Dr. Hu, standing nearby, couldn’t contain his smug laughter. Stroking his chin, he sneered, “Young people don’t know their limits. They think they’re some kind of miracle doctors… Hmph.”
A few bystanders nodded in agreement, thinking Dr. Hu had a point—young Dr. Xu might have skill, but his overconfidence was his downfall.
Hearing the murmurs around him, Xu Ze exhaled softly and said in a measured tone, “A nine-gauge needle and one milligram of adrenaline.”
“A nine-gauge needle?” Xu’s father froze, puzzled. That needle was rarely used—what did Xu Ze need it for?
But seeing his son waiting expectantly, he didn’t hesitate. He rummaged through the kit, found the needle, drew up the adrenaline, and handed it over.
Xu Ze took the syringe and said, “Alcohol swab.”
His father quickly passed him one. Xu Ze wiped the child’s chest, feeling for the sternum first, then tracing the ribs to locate the fourth intercostal space—the approximate position of the heart. He disinfected an area 1.4 centimeters to the left of the fourth rib.
Watching this, Dr. Hu’s eyes widened in shock. “Is Xu Ze actually attempting an intracardiac injection?”
Intracardiac injection was a high-risk procedure. Piercing the heart directly with a needle was dangerous—one wrong move could lead to severe bleeding or even death. It was rarely used outside major hospitals, let alone in a rural clinic like this. The fact that Xu Ze dared to try it left Dr. Hu stunned.
But then, Dr. Hu’s shock turned to disdain. “Do you really think injecting the heart will save this kid? After all this time, even a defibrillator would be useless, let alone a direct cardiac injection. And with a child this small, the heart’s even tinier—hitting it accurately is a gamble at best. Let’s see what other tricks you’ve got.”
The other onlookers were equally stunned. They’d seen injections in the arm, thigh, or buttocks—but the chest? Was that even possible?
Their eyes flicked to Dr. Hu, whose expression shifted between shock and scorn. Their curiosity grew. Whatever Xu Ze was doing, it was clearly unusual—but would it work?
Xu Ze, however, remained entirely focused. This was his last resort. If the intracardiac injection combined with bioelectric stimulation failed, he’d have no choice but to call it.
But he wasn’t worried about accuracy. Silently, he commanded in his mind: Activate B-mode ultrasound scan.
The automated system responded with a soft beep. “B-mode ultrasound scan initiated.”
A faint glow flickered across his lenses, and the child’s chest gradually became semi-transparent in his vision. Amid the darkened view, he could see the faint outlines of ribs—and behind them, a small, motionless shadow the size of a fist.
Xu Ze’s brows furrowed slightly. Holding the syringe between his thumb, index, and middle fingers, he estimated the position and swiftly inserted the needle vertically, 2 centimeters left of the sternum at the fourth intercostal space. The needle penetrated 4.5 centimeters deep.
A subtle resistance gave way—he’d pierced through.
In his enhanced vision, the needle’s tip glowed faintly within the heart. Confirming placement, he gently withdrew the plunger. Dark red blood flowed smoothly into the syringe. Satisfied, he nodded. The needle was in the right place.
Dr. Hu’s jaw dropped. “He actually hit it? On a child this small?”
Xu Ze didn’t hesitate. He swiftly injected the drug-blood mixture back into the heart, withdrew the needle, and pressed a cotton swab to the puncture site to prevent bleeding.
His expression remained calm—no pride, no anxiety. Dr. Hu’s eyes flashed with envy. This kid’s composure is unreal. But so what? Even if you’re steady as a rock, there’s no way you’re bringing this child back. If you succeed, I’ll shut my clinic down and hand the whole town over to you.
Xu Ze, oblivious to Dr. Hu’s thoughts, lightly tapped the child’s chest twice.
Two powerful bioelectric pulses surged into the heart, working in tandem with the injected drugs to stimulate a restart.
With that, Xu Ze exhaled softly and waited. This was the final attempt—either the heart would respond now, or it never would.
Seeing Xu Ze casually tap the chest and then step back as if giving up, Dr. Hu smirked. “What’s wrong, kid? Out of ideas? All that arrogance, and now you’re done?”
The crowd, too, assumed Xu Ze had conceded defeat. They sighed, casting admiring glances at Dr. Hu. He really knows his stuff—called it from the start.
But a few seconds later, Xu Ze leaned forward, placing a hand on the child’s chest. The ECG monitor activated, sending a faint current. The system pinged.
Beep… Heartbeat restored. Sixty beats per minute. Resuscitation successful.
Relief washed over Xu Ze. Not a wasted effort. He turned to his father. “One more milligram of adrenaline, and start an IV drip—250 milliliters of glucose with 10 milligrams of dopamine.”
“Huh?” Xu’s father blinked, then gasped as he noticed the faint rise and fall of the child’s chest. He did it! A-Ze actually brought him back!
Without delay, he prepared the injection and IV. Xu Ze administered the adrenaline, then deftly inserted the IV needle into the child’s vein, adjusting the flow rate before finally straightening up.
By now, the crowd had noticed the change. The child’s chest was moving—slow, shallow breaths. Color was returning to his cheeks.
Gasps erupted. “He’s alive! He’s really alive! Young Dr. Xu actually saved him!”
Dr. Hu stood frozen, his face a mask of disbelief. “Alive? How? That’s impossible!”
The child’s parents, tears streaming down their faces, collapsed beside their son, overwhelmed with joy.
As the couple wept with relief and the crowd buzzed with admiration, Xu Ze simply sighed quietly to himself.
