Refugee camps.
In a simple shack.
Looking at the old man lying on the stretcher, Yan Fang took a deep breath, finally made up his mind and slowly extended his right hand.
A short pause.
At the pulse of his right hand, a silver scalpel slowly stretched out until it was an inch longer than the middle finger.
The scalpel bends down slowly, just like the forelimb of a mantis. Look carefully, there are four silver threads around the scalpel, which are hanging in the air like tentacles.
Looking at the young man's right hand, the old man crouched on the stretcher looked frightened and thought trembling