"Bite and don't move."
Su Qinglan stuffed a branch into the beggar's mouth, clasped the crooked forearm with her left hand, put three fingers of her right hand on the broken bone, and looked down.
The beggar was shaking all over in pain and tears were streaming down his face, but he didn't dare to hum.
There were seven or eight homeless children surrounding the ruined temple. The oldest was only eleven or twelve years old. They were all squatting under the wall, staring at Su Qinglan's hands without blinking.
"Breathe in."
Just as Beggar took in the air, Su Qinglan pushed and pushed her right hand violently, and there was a crisp click, and the broken bone returned to its place.
The whole process takes no more than two breaths.
The beggar was stunned for a long time and tried to move his fingers. All five fingers could be bent. He spit out the branch from his mouth, his face covered with snot and tears, and he knelt down.
"Don't kneel." Su Qinglan used rag strips to tie a splint on him without stopping, "Don't use force for three days, the bones haven't grown strong yet."
Under the wall, a child as skinny as a monkey came over: "Sister, are you a miracle doctor?"
Su Qinglan didn't answer, tightened the last button of the splint, stood up and patted the soil on her knees.
Miracle doctor.
She chewed these two words in her heart and swallowed them again. The Su family's medical skills have been passed down to her, but now she doesn't even have a serious medicine box. The word "miraculous doctor" is too strong.
What's more, she knew how long her body could last.
The sound of horse hooves suddenly came from outside the temple. It was chaotic and rapid. It wasn't just one horse, but at least three or four.
Su Qinglan's hand paused.
She didn't look back and whispered: "Hide behind the pillars and don't make any sound."
