Ye Qing quickly ran to the person's side, while several bystanders were still panicking, unsure of what to do.
Ye Qing grabbed the tablecloth from a nearby table, crumpled it into a ball, and stuffed it into the patient's mouth to ensure he wouldn't bite his tongue off.
At the same time, Ye Qing laid the patient flat, pressing down on his leg with his left hand while continuously patting his chest with his right hand.
The patient struggled violently, trying to push Ye Qing's arms away.
"Help, hold his hands!" Ye Qing urged urgently.
No one dared to intervene; it would be fine if the person was saved, but if he died here, anyone who touched him would be in trouble later!
