Chapter 9 Live for Less Than Five Years

Deanna replied helplessly, "You never asked before, so I never mentioned it. But yes, I do know some medical skills."

She thought for a moment, realizing that claiming to know medicine might come across as arrogant.

Her master was a skilled doctor who had taught her a lot, so she could handle common illnesses without issue.

Xavier, however, didn't seem convinced. He frowned, finding Deanna unreliable.

"How much is 'some'? Miss Jones, I can't gamble with Mr. Mercer's life..."

Before he could finish, Deanna interrupted, "Transferring him to a hospital now is too late. His breath is weakening, and his life is in imminent danger. You need to take at least half an hour to get to the nearest hospital. Such a delay could put him in a critical state."

Ava's face grew serious. Deanna had a point. But what should they do now?

"Miss Jones, do you have a way to treat Mr. Mercer? He's in a very dangerous condition," Ava asked.

Xavier remained silent, scrutinizing Deanna with a searching gaze.

Deanna sighed and responded frankly, "Medicine has its limitations. No doctor can guarantee a cure, especially when he's barely holding on. I can't promise anything, but I will try my best. You need to decide if you want me to treat him."

Xavier weighed his options silently.

Deanna was a regular here, and Ava had interacted with her many times.

Miss Jones was known for her steady nature and the effectiveness of her medicinal herbs. Old Hughes often praised her.

Given the urgency, they had no other choice, though they didn't know if Deanna was really a good doctor.

Ava tugged on Xavier's sleeve and said, "Xavier, let's give Miss Jones a chance. If she can help, great. If not, we can take Mr. Mercer to the hospital."

Xavier nodded and turned to Deanna. "Please, do what you can."

Deanna nodded back and raised her hand to check on Lance on the bed.

His heartbeat was weak and irregular, indicating heart damage.

Deanna leaned closer to listen to his breathing, which was shallow and infrequent.

"Has he been injured recently?" she asked.

"Yes, his left shoulder. Also, he has an old illness that seems to have flared up," Xavier replied hesitantly, clearly unwilling to elaborate.

Deanna opened Lance's shirt, revealing a strong, muscular torso with a prominent wound on his shoulder, haphazardly bandaged with gauze.

The blood had seeped through, turning a dark red.

She peeled back the gauze to find the wound inflamed and festering, showing signs of infection despite some ineffective treatment.

Understanding the situation, Deanna realized the shoulder wound had caused the infection and fever, exacerbated by his old illness, which had severely weakened his heart and respiration.

"Miss Jones, can you treat him?" Ava asked hopefully.

Without turning around, Deanna said, "The external wound and fever are critical but manageable. The real issue is his old illness."

She checked on Lance again and shook her head.

His body was frail, with severe internal injuries. Modern medicine might heal the external wounds and reduce the fever, but it couldn't address his internal injuries.

Without treatment using ancient medical practices, he wouldn't survive more than five years.