Chapter 21: The Shaking of the Materialist Worldview

"...... How's the situation?"

Her voice was a bit hoarse as she asked the medical staff performing emergency treatment next to Xiao Zhang.

"Qin Team!" the medical staff, sweating profusely, shouted, "The bullet struck the abdomen, massive blood loss, already in shock! We're preparing transport!"

Qin Zhixia felt an invisible hand clutch her heart tightly.

She crouched down, stared at Xiao Zhang's pallid face, and pressed her lips into a thin line.

"Will he be okay?"

"He's temporarily out of immediate danger!" the medical staff said at a rapid pace, "But surgery is required immediately!"

Hearing that, Qin Zhixia's nerves, which had been taut to the limit, finally relaxed for a moment.

She stood up, her gaze sweeping the chaotic living room, finally landing on Professor Chen.

Qin Zhixia walked over and crouched beside him.

"Professor Chen."

Professor Chen's clouded eyes slowly turned, focusing on Qin Zhixia's face; he opened his mouth, his voice hoarse as if sandpaper were rubbing.

"Zhixia... I'm wrong."

Qin Zhixia's heart sank sharply.

"We were all wrong," Professor Chen said, his gaze filled with a profound sorrow after a worldview collapse, "Science... cannot explain it."

"I saw it with my own eyes, and all of us saw it with our own eyes."

"It wasn't a hallucination, not hypnosis, not some high‑tech weapon."

He extended his trembling hand and pointed to the center of the villa, to Li Zhenhu's perfectly intact corpse.

"That's a 'thing'."

"A truly existent, incomprehensible... 'thing'."

Professor Chen's words were like an invisible hammer, shattering the last lucky thread in Qin Zhixia's mind.

She felt the whole world spinning.

Chu Che was driving, heading home.

Soft classical music played in the car, while raindrops tapped the windows outside with a clear rhythm.

He had just enjoyed a flawless performance, reaping abundant "karma," and was in a very good mood.

Li Zhenhu's death, the police's collapse, and Qin Zhixia's despondent face were the most splendid movements of that performance.

He could even imagine how the police were at that moment, frazzled and with their worldview shattered.

This cat‑and‑mouse game was becoming increasingly interesting.

At that moment, his phone rang.

The screen displayed "Vice President Wang."

Chu Che pushed up his glasses, answered the call, his tone warm and courteous.

"Vice President Wang, it's so late—what's the matter?"

On the other end, Vice President Wang's signature voice, smiling yet edged with a hidden blade, came through.

"Oh, Dr. Chu, sorry to disturb you so late!"

"Here's the situation: the hospital just received an emergency patient with a ruptured aortic dissection, massive bleeding, condition extremely critical, surgery required immediately!"

"But you know, Director Liu of the cardiac surgery department... had an accident a few days ago."

"The other senior physicians in the department reviewed the case and said they weren't confident; no one dared to take the lead. That's why I thought of you! In our hospital, for cardiac surgery, if you, Dr. Chu, claim to be second, no one will claim first!"

Chu Che's gaze was as still as an ancient well.

Ruptured aortic dissection, still massive bleeding.

Such an operation is a nine‑to‑one death chance, with a pitifully low success rate.

Those seasoned veterans in the hospital aren't lacking in skill.

Unable to perform? It's just fear of responsibility, fear that a failed surgery would tarnish their reputation.

Vice President Wang often gave him a hard time, and now he's tossing this hot‑potato over, playing his games—Chu Che saw right through it.

He's just looking for a scapegoat to shoulder the lead‑surgeon duty, and also to face the emotionally unstable family members.

If it were a truly good assignment, it would have been handed to well‑connected offspring long ago.

"I understand," Chu Che smiled, his voice still steady, "I'll head back to the hospital right away."

He hung up, shifted the car's steering, and floored the accelerator.

The black sedan cut a sharp arc through the rainy night, racing toward the white tower.

He now possessed a small‑scale object‑control ability of a "Cavity Person".

Even a "surgical miracle" deemed impossible by ordinary people......

To him, it was as easy as flipping his palm.

Jiang Hai City First Hospital, operating room.

The atmosphere was so heavy it seemed it could drip water.

The patient's vital signs on the operating table were extremely unstable; the heart‑rate and blood‑pressure curves on the monitor resembled a small boat in a storm, ready to capsize at any moment.

"No! Blood pressure dropped to 60! If we don't stop the bleeding, the patient will go into shock immediately!"

"The wound is too large! We can't even locate a spot!"

"Prepare the defibrillation!"

Several assistant doctors were drenched in sweat, at a loss.

Behind the observation room's glass window, Vice President Wang crossed his arms.

Next to him, a young doctor clearly from a connected family spoke with glee.

"Vice President Wang, you called Chu Che here; aren't you making it difficult for him? In this situation, even an immortal couldn't save him."

Vice President Wang shrugged and said, "Someone has to try, right?"

At that moment, the operating‑room door was pushed open.

Chu Che changed into sterile surgical attire and walked in.

He calmly glanced at the monitor's data, then proceeded to the chief‑surgeon's station.

"Prepare for surgery."

His voice was low but carried an unquestionable calm that made the panicked medical staff instinctively fall silent.

"Chu… Dr. Chu, the patient's condition is terrible, we…" a junior doctor forced himself to speak.

"I know."

Chu Che cut him off, extending his long, pale, bone‑defined hands.

"Scalpel."

The nurse instinctively handed over the scalpel.

Chu Che took the blade, his gaze falling on the patient's blood‑soaked, chaotic chest cavity.

To others, it was a mess, a Forbidden Zone of life.

But in his eyes, every vessel and every inch of muscle texture was crystal clear.

Surgery, begin.

The next second, everyone held their breath.

They witnessed a scene they would never forget.

Chu Che's hands were steadier than any human's.

The thin scalpel, at his fingertips, seemed to possess life.

At the torn aortic rupture, within a forest of vessels finer than a hair strand, his blade tip performed separation, suturing, and anastomosis with a precision beyond human limits.

Each incision was perfectly timed, avoiding every dangerous nerve and tissue.

Each stitch flowed like clouds and water, as if embroidering a masterpiece.

"Hemostatic forceps…"

"Line seven…"

"Suction device…"

His commands were clear and calm, without the slightest hesitation.

The entire operating room was left with only his steady voice and the monitor's steady beeping.

In the observation room, Vice President Wang's expression had already frozen.

The doctor with connections beside him opened his mouth wide enough to fit an egg, his eyes bulging.

Vice President Wang stared intently at Chu Che's hands dancing under the shadowless lamp, his Adam's apple bobbing.

He does not lack knowledge of surgery.

Precisely because he understands, he knows how outrageous Chu Che's actions are!

That is no longer technique.

That is a miracle!

Time passed second by second.

When Chu Che used tweezers to lift the final suture thread and tied the last surgical knot,

he lifted his head, his voice even.

"Surgery complete."

On the monitor, the patient's heart rate and blood pressure had returned to a stable range.

Perfect data, representing continued life.

The whole operating room was death‑like quiet.

A few seconds later, an incredulous shout erupted.

"It's a success! It actually succeeded!"

"Oh my God! This is a miracle!"

All the medical staff looked at the man standing before the operating table, still calm as a cloud, with eyes that seemed to be gazing at a deity.

This surgery will undoubtedly become a bold, colorful entry in his professional record.

Chu Che removed his blood‑stained gloves, tossed them into the medical waste bin, and turned to leave the operating room.

Just as he stepped out the doorway, a middle‑aged couple rushed toward him in tears, about to kneel with a thud.

"Dr. Chu! Thank you! Thank you for saving my son's life!"

Chu Che reached out and steadied them.

"Earlier other doctors said my son was beyond rescue, told us to prepare for the end… It was you! You pulled him back from the brink of death! You are our great benefactor, a living bodhisattva!"

The patient's mother sobbed uncontrollably.

Chu Che looked at them, a gentle smile appearing on his face.

"This is what I should do."

He comforted the family, turned, and left.

In the Corridor, several young nurses watched his back, their eyes full of little stars.

"Dr. Chu is so handsome! Good looks and such powerful skill!"

"He was insanely handsome on the operating table just now! My god, I'm suffocating!"

A bold nurse, flushed, chased after him.

"Um… Dr. Chu, to thank you for turning the tide today, we… we'd like to treat you to a late‑night snack. Do you have time?"

Chu Che stopped in his tracks and turned around.

His eyes, seen through the gold‑thread‑rimmed glasses, were warm and fluid like water.

"Thank you, but I've already taken it to heart."

He politely yet aloofly declined, then turned and left without a hint of lingering.

"Ah… I was rejected," the junior nurse said, a little dejected.

"Now that's what a male god should be!" the companion beside her grew even more excited, "The unattainable always stirs! Ah ah ah, I don't care, he's my husband!"