Chapter 35: Chapter Thirty-Three: How to Fit a Brown Bear into a Jewelry Box

"The situation is this: we need to make a small incision on her abdomen to return the intestines to their proper position. But don’t worry—she won’t feel a thing during the process; my family’s secret medicine will keep her asleep for a full day, or longer."

Kraft drew a rough sketch of the intestinal pathway inside the abdominal cavity on paper and circled the area needing repositioning for Gris to see.

The father twisted his hands together; this was something utterly foreign to him, beyond the scope of his experience or common sense.

"Actually, the procedure is just three simple steps: make a small incision—about this long." Kraft gestured with his hands, "Then we can access that segment of intestine, reposition it, and quickly suture the incision shut."

"We’ll finish this quickly. Afterward, she may develop fever or wound infection, but at least she won’t die soon from intestinal complications."

"Yes, yes, thank you." Gris was moved by this explanation—perhaps because it sounded simple, or because the balanced description felt more honest than the priest’s or clinic doctor’s promises of holy water or herbal remedies. "She’s my only family. Even if I have to sell the tavern..."

"I’ll do my best." Kraft gripped his hand. "Don’t worry about the fee—we can discuss payment after Lise recovers."

He turned and walked into the observation classroom—the same place where he had first performed a shoulder joint reduction. Lu Xiusi and Li Sidun were already inside; Lise lay on her side on a stone table meticulously cleaned, her body curled into a tight ball.

It wasn’t that he refused to find another location—it was simply that this classroom, designed to demonstrate treatments and anatomy, was naturally suited for surgery.

With all windows open, the room was well-lit; the space around the stone table was open, and its height was ideal for operation. Li Sidun had already scrubbed it thoroughly with lime and rinsed it clean with boiling water.

"Ready." Kraft nodded to Lu Xiusi, who lifted Lise’s upper body to allow Kraft to feed her the diluted black liquid.

This was Kraft’s first time witnessing the effect of the diluted solution.

Within five seconds of swallowing, Lise’s face—twisted in agony—went blank, as if an invisible force had descended, smoothing her tensed muscles and draining all emotion and sensation from her body, leaving only a tranquil shell.

Her limbs relaxed instantly; her hands, clutching her abdomen, dropped to her sides. Her spine softened and sank backward, lying flat against the table under Lu Xiusi’s support, utterly passive.

Kraft had never seen any orally administered, gastrointestinal-absorbed medicine take effect so swiftly or so profoundly.

Opposite him, Li Sidun reached out in astonishment to feel Lise’s breath, then checked her pulse—steady, rhythmic, only slightly slowed.

"Family-secret medicine?"

"Yes, family secret medicine. The last vial. Don’t ask about it—wash your hands."

The classic surgical handwashing technique, but conditions here were limited: Lu Xiusi had to act as a human faucet, slowly pouring water from a jug from above—first lime water, then cooled boiled water to rinse clean.

"Like this: palms, backs of hands, between fingers, then curl your hands and rub, finally fingertips and thumbs. Wash your wrists and entire forearms."

Kraft tossed his black robe and sword aside, rolled up his sleeves, and showed Li Sidun a less-than-standard procedure. Ideally, he’d scrub and soak, but such tools simply didn’t exist here.

"Lu Xiusi, wipe her entire abdomen—every inch, including both sides—from inside out."

"And don’t touch the instrument table—I mean the one where I placed the knife and thread—or I’ll have to boil them again and fish them out."

"Final confirmation: everyone knows their role? Lu Xiusi, you’re responsible for everything outside this table—hold the mirror to direct light here. But do not touch anything."

"Li Sidun, we’re the ones touching the wound. Don’t let your hands touch anything except the abdomen and instruments. Don’t let them drop below your waist, or rise above your shoulders. We must be as ‘clean’ as possible. I can’t explain now—we’ll have time later."

After listing every precaution he could think of, Kraft held his hands suspended in front of his chest, waiting for Lu Xiusi and Li Sidun to confirm. But his sudden seriousness had unnerved them; both were visibly tense, their faces reading: "You didn’t say it was this complicated outside the door."

Their expression stirred Kraft’s memory of his first time on the operating table. He had rehearsed the procedure multiple times in the simulation room, reciting fluently the entire sequence from surgical handwashing to donning the gown and sterilizing the drape.

But when he actually reached for the faucet, his hands shook. He pressed the soap dispenser several times, his mind blank, terrified he’d missed a spot.

Empathizing, Lu Xiusi and Li Sidun had never experienced anything like this—and his abrupt seriousness had only heightened their tension. He felt he should tell a joke to ease the atmosphere.

"Do you know how to fit a brown bear into a jewelry box?" Since there were no elephants or refrigerators here, he adjusted the joke slightly for local context.

"Huh?"

"Open the jewelry box, shove the brown bear inside, then close the box."

"... " The joke didn’t land. Lu Xiusi and Li Sidun exchanged glances, stunned for several seconds before realizing Kraft was joking.

Lu Xiusi offered an awkward, polite smile; Li Sidun grew even tenser. The joke reminded him of how Kraft had described the surgery—"make a cut, reposition the intestine, then stitch it up." It couldn’t possibly be that simple. They were performing an operation with no precedent in this world.

"Breathe deeply, my friends—it’ll help. Now hand me the knife. This is a rare opportunity—treat it as a special lesson, alright? We might even get to explain it in detail." Realizing his humor had failed, Kraft tried to salvage it, hoping Li Sidun would see this as a long-awaited practical lesson.

"We’ll use a right-sided transverse rectus abdominis incision. For a small infant, we could use a transverse upper abdominal incision..."

The blade sliced through skin; blood seeped from the incision. The knife was the one Li Sidun had lent him—thin and long, but well-made, as expected from a professor specializing in anatomy.

It wasn’t as sharp as a proper scalpel, but the feel was decent—far better than the crude, heavy blades he’d imagined.

"Clean linen cloth, Li Sidun. Lu Xiusi, move to the other side—angle the light from across."

With no proper gauze available, they had to use the era’s common linen. The cloth in his hand was already a fine product, yet Kraft dared not wipe with it—only its natural absorbency could clear the blood and keep his vision clear.

Lu Xiusi moved to the opposite side of the table, raised his metal mirror, and directed a light spot onto the incision. The mirror barely reflected a human shape, but it was enough to provide illumination.

A retractor was handed to Kraft. Thanks to the needs of anatomy, such tools still existed in the academy—not makeshift substitutes.

"I hope this one’s never been used."

"Of course. Like the knife, it’s a brand-new set—never been used yet." Li Sidun handed him another. They needed these two curved metal rods to spread the incision wide enough to see inside.

"I can’t see anything, Lu Xiusi—adjust again."

Kraft was certain of his incision’s location. Now he had to find the intussusception as quickly as possible. This wasn’t a sterile operating room—the longer the wound was exposed, the higher the infection risk.

As the light shifted, a yellowish fatty protrusion appeared in view. "Stop—here."

Kraft recognized the marker: the epiploic appendages, distributed along the taenia coli. Following the taenia coli downward, he could locate the appendix where the three taeniae converged; above it lay the cecum, and beside it, the ileocecal intussusception he sought.

He inserted his fingers into the abdominal cavity, touched the obstruction, and gently tugged the intestinal segment. "Light—this side."

Lu Xiusi, now mastering the technique, tilted the mirror; the light spot moved toward Kraft’s fingertip, illuminating the segment. Best-case scenario—the intestine showed no signs of necrosis. Otherwise, Kraft would have had to consider resecting the dead portion and anastomosing the ends.

What followed were operations that would seem horrifying.

"Watch closely—this is the intussuscepted portion. Now I’m pushing it backward." Kraft relaxed slightly, explaining to Li Sidun, who held the retractors. "Don’t lean too close."

After repositioning it partially, he pulled the intestinal segment outward and gently pressed the proximal end with his thumb and forefinger. From a few steps away, Lu Xiusi could see the red mass in Kraft’s hands.

Even Li Sidun, experienced in dissection, felt uneasy. Operating on a living person felt entirely different from working on corpses. He glanced at Lise’s face—she slept peacefully, utterly unaware that someone had just manipulated a segment of her intestine.

Precision and brutality coexisted. Years of sword training had granted his hands stability; his mind from another world guided them, slowly coaxing the intussuscepted ileum out of the colon.

"Don’t shake. Hold on a little longer."

The light spot trembled—Lu Xiusi’s arms were shaking, whether from fatigue or fear of the slippery pink tube in the surgeon’s hands, something no amount of practice on corpses could overcome—only real practice could teach adaptation.

He tightened his grip on the mirror, realigned the light, and the surgical field neared completion.

The steps of "fitting the brown bear into the box" were nearly done. Kraft had successfully reduced the intussusception; the extruded bowel looked normal, with no rupture or perforation, and the appendix showed no signs of congestion or edema.

Truly, divine favor had intervened. Gris had found her in time, and the priest hadn’t delayed things with more holy water. Had they come in the afternoon or evening, the outcome might not have been so ideal.

"Needle. Thread."

Li Sidun handed him the curved needle and silk thread.

The needle was a sewing needle bent by hand; the thread was the strongest fine thread he could find, generously provided by a student whose family sold textiles—rumored to be made of spider silk, claimed to replace iron rings used in armor fittings, usually sold by the strand. He’d given Kraft a whole bundle.

After this was over, he should visit the student’s home to thank him—and pay him, lest the mother discover her son’s generosity and face trouble explaining it.

Full-thickness continuous suture—the only option without absorbable thread. A scar on the girl’s abdomen was inevitable. But children grow fast; perhaps it would fade.

Fortunately, in northern Nos Kingdom, no one wore crop tops—she wouldn’t grow up one day complaining about the doctor’s poor skill while choosing clothes.

The suturing went smoothly—Kraft’s favorite part. The even, precise entry and exit of each stitch, pulling the wound back into place, gave his minor obsessive-compulsive tendencies a quiet satisfaction.

He completed the final stitch, deftly tied three surgical knots, wiped away residual blood, and covered the wound with four layers of fine linen.

"Tape." Kraft reached out instinctively, but found nothing. He looked up to see Li Sidun’s blank expression. "Uh—I mean, a long strip of linen. We need to wrap two turns around her waist to secure the dressing."

"Lu Xiusi, you can put the mirror down now—go rest."

Li Sidun and Lu Xiusi watched Kraft wrap the linen strip around Lise’s waist, tie a neat bow, smooth and straighten it, then re-cover her with her clothes.

With the aid of the "family secret medicine," the surgery—once deemed possible only in "Human Anatomy"—passed without incident. The man who had made history wiped sweat from his brow, unaware of his own disheveled state, collapsing onto the floor and gasping for breath.

"So... we really did fit the brown bear into the jewelry box?"