Mo Shu released the grip on her chest and reached out directly to take Qiao Xiguan's wrist, then took her pulse.
"You know traditional Chinese medicine?" Qiao Xiguan was surprised.
"A little." Mo Shu said.
Qiao Xiguan quietly felt her heartbeat, which was a bit fast, so fast it seemed to pull at her wound, causing her to endure the pain silently.
5 minutes passed.
Mo Shu let go of her hand, "It's a very weak pulse, I can't be sure."
Qiao Xiguan nodded, "By that count, it's been more than half a month since Gu Zichen was last here."
"I will take your pulse again in a few days." Mo Shu said.
"Okay."
"Now to dress the wound." Mo Shu's eyes shifted.
"Hmm." Qiao Xiguan nodded.
Mo Shu found a towel for Qiao Xiguan to bite on, then without giving her any time to prepare, the scalpel began to move in his long and flexible hands, cutting away the rotting and swollen flesh, then quickly stitching, applying medicine, and finally bandaging it up.
