“You—you fucking—who the hell are you!?”
The thugs jumped in fright at Ye Tang’s sudden appearance. After all, her current face did not look kind or benevolent in the slightest.
Ye Tang did not answer the thugs. She crouched down and gently turned the child onto his side as much as possible, positioning his face upward as he lay horizontally on the riverbank.
About five minutes had passed since the thugs had fished the child out of the water. He had no breathing, no heartbeat, and not even a pulse.
“What are you doing!?”
Seeing Ye Tang pry open the child’s mouth to check his airway and nose, then lift his eyelids to examine his pupils, the black thug grew agitated.
Though the black thug’s voice was loud, he did not dare to pull away this stranger who had no connection to them—Ye Tang’s dress was outdated in style and color, with even her collar clip and buttons exuding an old-fashioned air.
However, the fabric of her dress had an exceptional texture, clearly not something an ordinary commoner could afford. So the black thug suspected Ye Tang was the head maid under some noble lord… and that sharp, mean face of hers did indeed resemble a bully who borrowed her master’s power.
Ye Tang did not care how those around her saw her.
Crazy or nosy, whatever. She simply could not stand by and watch a child who could still be saved die right before her eyes.
“What am I doing? Saving him, of course. You don’t want to lose a money-making commodity for nothing, do you?”
Confirming the child had not drowned, nor choked on mud, sand, or waterweed blocking his airway and lungs, Ye Tang shouted toward Claudia and Gloria: “Dia, Lia! Come help me!”
Claudia and Gloria took one glance at the thugs’ fierce faces and their legs began to tremble. Yet the one calling them was none other than their most respected and beloved mother. The two girls forced down their shaky legs and stumbled toward Ye Tang like fawns forced to run right after birth.
“M-Mother!”
Ye Tang confirmed once more that Claudia and Gloria were honest, good children—they were scared like this, yet still did not stand idly by. This strengthened her resolve never to let these sisters meet a tragic end.
“Lia, help me hold this child’s head. Dia, press your handkerchief against the wound on his forehead to stop the bleeding. Both of you, watch my movements closely.”
““Yes! Mother!””
The sisters spoke in unison, then widened their purple eyes and watched Ye Tang’s actions intently.
First aid, survival, and disaster avoidance were basic knowledge that modern people knew at least a little about. Among them, CPR, the Heimlich maneuver, and artificial respiration were simple, effective, and highly popularized.
With AEDs installed at facilities along rivers, lakes, and beaches, many people had also learned how to use defibrillators.
Ye Tang had no defibrillator on hand, so if she had any way to restart this child’s heart, it was only CPR and artificial respiration.
But CPR required a lot of strength. Her body was still recovering from serious illness, and she lacked the power alone. So she had Claudia and Gloria learn her movements, then take over the CPR for the child.
The surrounding thugs were rough and impatient. Ye Tang dared not hope they would follow her instructions properly without snapping the child’s ribs.
Broken ribs were very dangerous, especially during CPR. If ribs near the heart and lungs fractured, the broken bones could puncture organs. In the worst case, if they pierced the heart or lungs directly, it would not be saving him but sending him straight to the heavens.
“Did you understand my movements? Lia, now I’ll hold his head—you do the CPR!”
“M-Me…?”
Twin-tailed Gloria nearly burst into tears. CPR, something so advanced—how could she possibly know how?!
“Lia, recall what I just did.”
Ye Tang’s words made Gloria look tearfully at her mother.
Her mother was a high-pressure person. Though she doted on her and her sister, she allowed no defiance. Her mother never consulted them but simply issued orders, and executing those orders under her mother’s pressure was the norm. Yet today, when Gloria met her mother’s eyes, she no longer resisted the command.
—Her mother truly wanted to save him. Her dominance came only because she could not tolerate a young life slipping away before her.
Her trembling hands steadied, and courage welled up inexplicably. Gloria recalled Ye Tang’s earlier actions and placed her hands on the boy’s chest.
She shared her mother’s thoughts! She did not want to watch a life she could save die right before her eyes!
Gloria gave it her all, but the boy remained motionless. His face was not just pale—it was now shrouded in a frosty blue.
“Dia, your turn.”
“Yes! Mother!”
Having watched her mother’s technique and heard her instructions to her sister, Claudia performed better than her sibling. But spoiled as she was, she tired out after just a few compressions, like her sister.
Onlookers gathered steadily, and everyone could see the mother and daughters trying to save a life unrelated to them.
…Perhaps because the three were so desperate, those around began to feel ashamed of their own inaction.
It was a prickling of the conscience, like ice thawing with cracks forming on a stone.
Some scratched the back of their heads unconsciously; others rubbed their noses repeatedly. Everyone felt the words “Shall I give it a try?” or “Can I help?” stuck in their throats. For a moment, they were baffled by this hot-blooded impulse in themselves, who thought they had seen through the world’s harshness—wanting to curse themselves as nosy. Yet in the next, the mother and daughters kneeling on the riverbank shone so brightly that others wanted to be like them.
His thick lips twitched several times. Finally, the black thug could not hold back: “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Ye Tang turned and glanced at him. She curved her lips into a smile: “Of course.”
Even her sharp, mean face looked unattractive when smiling. Yet the black thug’s eyes were still dazzled by it.
She had Claudia step aside, then Ye Tang herself pried open the boy’s jaw. Under everyone’s gaze, she leaned down and gave the boy artificial respiration.
There was no choice—the boy’s pulse and heartbeat had stopped too long.
The human brain suffered cell death after just three minutes without oxygen. After ten, even if pulled back from death’s door, the person returned as a vegetable only able to go ‘aba aba’. If fifteen minutes passed without oxygen, brain death turned them into a permanent vegetable.
Loss of brain function was near-permanent damage that even modern medicine could do nothing about, leaving families to pray for miracles. In this world nearing the late 19th century, it was a death sentence.
The only difference was dying sooner with less suffering, or lingering a few days in more torment.
Seeing Ye Tang “kiss” the apparently dead boy, the crowd gasped. Women drew in sharp breaths; some rough men whistled.
“Nice! Sucking the fresh virgin essence from a freshly dead boy, huh?”
A frivolous young man laughed lightly, about to whistle with fingers in his mouth, when the black thug smashed him to the ground with a sandpot-sized fist, nose gushing blood.
“Shut your dog mouth that spits no ivory, Jason. Or—”
The black thug raised his fist, still stained with Jason’s blood.
The youth called Jason obediently shut up. Clutching his nose and nodding frantically, he wriggled on the ground like a worm a few times before scrambling up and fleeing.
Ye Tang’s efforts were not in vain. The boy finally reacted. His body arched, and he took a huge gasp, breathing again.
His water-flecked lashes were long and curled upward. The boy struggled to open his eyelids, lashes fluttering like butterfly wings.
In his haze, he first saw Claudia and Gloria—such beautiful twins made him think elves had saved him.
Regrettably, this beautiful, dreamlike moment shattered quickly.
Seeing the boy breathing and with eyes open, Ye Tang released his lips and sighed in relief.
The boy was still savoring the gentle touch left by the “elves” on his lips when, the next second, he saw a face that could only belong to a wicked stepmother.
That horrible old face, etched with “malice,” “meanness,” and “harshness,” frightened him into struggling. The next instant, his eyes rolled back, and he fainted.
Seeing the boy scared unconscious by Ye Tang, the crowd who had been on tenterhooks fell silent for a second, then erupted in thunderous laughter.
Claudia and Gloria were a bit angry that these people laughed at their mother, but Ye Tang calmly told the black thug: “Take this child to a doctor. His heartbeat is back to normal now; he should wake up soon.”
“Thank you, Madam.”
Unable to help but use a respectful tone toward Ye Tang, the black thug—who had witnessed her snatch a life from the Death God—tipped his hat in salute.
The black thug’s mood was complicated.
Nobles disdained lowly lives. Yet this lady of status willingly touched their filthy, lowly “inferiors” and used her own lips to save a “lowly” child’s life.
Compared to her, the people around who mocked her based on looks—and he himself—were so lowly and shameful.
The black thug carried the child, led the other thugs through the crowd, and left.
The onlookers, who had mocked the old witch slurping a pretty boy’s mouth and scaring him unconscious, were sobered by the black thug’s glare and remembered Ye Tang had been saving a life.
Someone started it with a clap. Men, women, and children in the crowd applauded, saluting Ye Tang.
Ye Tang lifted one side of her skirt, her right foot tracing a half-circle. She elegantly returned the courtesy to those around her, feeling no insult from them.
Following Ye Tang out of the crowd, the two sisters—sweating profusely and seeing their mother’s gaunt back now towering with miraculous radiance—gained a new understanding of her.