"You're too weak," said Bingwen.
"I know my strength better than you do, boy. Prick my finger."
Bingwen wiped Grandfather's finger with the gauze, pricked it, and tested the blood. When the results came back he said, "It's a match."
Grandfather nodded, pleased with himself, as if he had accomplished something. "Then let's get a move on."
"We need to stitch him up first and remove the shrapnel," said the old woman. "But I think it's a waste of time. This man isn't going to live. You'll lose blood for nothing, blood you have no business losing at your age."
Grandfather frowned. "My grandson risked his life to bring this man to us. And this man risked his life to save us. We are going to save his life and you are going to help."
The old woman's husband stepped forward. "Watch your tongue, old man. You don't command my wife."
"I'm doing it because you're not," said Grandfather. "She's duty-bound. She owes this man. We all do. And if Bingwen says we can save him, then we can." He turned to the old woman. "You've stitched up women before. This is no different."
"This is plenty different," said the old woman. "The shrapnel wounds are simple enough. It's the man's stomach that I can't fix. I don't know what's injured inside. His organs could be all cut up. It looks deep. I'm not a doctor."
"The device will tell us," said Bingwen, not knowing if it were true. "Let's at least try."
The old woman hesitated, looked into the face of her husband, then sighed. "Fine. What do we do first?"
Bingwen wasn't sure. There was a button for help. He pushed it.
"State the problem," said the device.
"His stomach is cut and was bleeding a lot. Maybe his organs are cut, too. We're not sure."
"Have you stopped the bleeding?" asked the device.
"Yes."
"Have you washed and sanitized the wound and your hands?"
"No."
"Let's do that first. Do you know how?"
Bingwen knew how to wash his hands certainly, but there might be special instructions so he said, "No."
There were special instructions. There were chemicals to use and gloves to wear and sterile gauze to unwrap. Bingwen and the woman did what they were told. They cleaned the wound and stanched the blood. They wiped down and sterilized the device as well.
"Now I need to scan the wound," said the device.
Bingwen held the device over the wound for several seconds.
"I detect serious trauma," said the device. "A portion of the small intestines has been severed. This requires immediate surgery. Is there a qualified doctor available who can perform a small bowel resection?"
"No," said Bingwen.
"What's it saying?" said the old woman.
"Let the boy listen," said Grandfather.
"Can you transport the patient to a hospital where a qualified doctor can be found?" the device asked.
"No," said Bingwen.
"Can you notify a doctor and have one come to you?"