Chapter 821: Another Surgery

Chapter 821: Chapter 821: Another Surgery

A man in his sixties lay on the gurney.

The old man’s face was ashen. His eyes were tightly shut, and his nostrils flared slightly. His breathing was deep and slow, and a faint rattling sound could be heard in his throat. Most noticeably, an oxygen tube was already inserted into his nose, and the ECG monitor was emitting a monotonous, rapid BEEP BEEP BEEP.

An old man around seventy years old hurried alongside the gurney. He looked completely at a loss, his wrinkled face flushed red, and his eyes filled with terror.

"What happened? What’s the medical history?" Deputy Chief Physician Peng Lixue had arrived upon hearing the news, asking loudly while checking the patient’s pupils.

The accompanying emergency doctor quickly reported, "The patient was exercising in the park just now. After arguing with someone, he suddenly collapsed and fell into a coma. His blood pressure at the scene was measured at 210/110 mmHg, his breathing is deep and slow, and his pupillary light reflex is sluggish."

Gao Jingyun glanced at the trembling old man next to them. "Are you a family member?"

"N-no..." The old man was on the verge of tears, his voice trembling. "I’m his old neighbor. We just had a brief argument over plaza dancing with Mrs. Wang. He... he suddenly collapsed! I didn’t even push him hard!"

"Stop with the useless chatter. Have the family members been contacted?" Peng Lixue asked with a frown.

"They’ve already been called and are on their way. The family said he has had hypertension for over ten years and has been taking medication, but he seems to have stopped taking it for the past few days," Gao Jingyun said, rapidly jotting down the information.

"Deep and slow breathing, accompanied by signs of hemiplegia, unequal pupils..." Peng Lixue muttered, his heart sinking heavily. The prognosis for this kind of acute cerebral hemorrhage was usually extremely poor, especially when induced by an argument.

"Quick, rush a cranial CT scan! Push mannitol and prepare for dehydration therapy!" Peng Lixue shouted his orders.

The corridor was in total chaos, the sound of the gurney’s wheels squeaking against the floor piercingly loud.

Inside the operating room.

Zeng Yunjun had not scrubbed in. Instead, as the department director, he stood in the circulating nurse’s position, keeping an eye on the monitor while observing Zhong Dongyang’s operations.

The surgery was a right hepatic lobe tumor resection. Because the tumor was large and closely adjacent to the inferior vena cava, the dissection was extremely difficult.

"Keep up with the suction," Zhong Dongyang ordered in a deep voice.

Serving as the first assistant, Li Xu held the aspirator and electrocautery tool. His movements were as steady as a stone statue. Every time Zhong Dongyang incised a layer of tissue, Li Xu’s aspirator would always arrive at the exact right spot a split second before the blood seeped out, keeping the surgical field impeccably clean.

This level of tacit coordination made Zhong Dongyang look up at Li Xu in surprise.

Half an hour into the surgery, they entered the most critical mobilization phase.

"This feel..." As Zhong Dongyang skillfully dissected the blood vessels, he couldn’t help but say to Zeng Yunjun, "Yunjun, you weren’t lying. Dr. Li’s awareness of hemostasis and his anticipation of anatomical structures are simply textbook-level. Without the tempering of hundreds of surgeries, it’s impossible to have this kind of ’predictive intuition’ on the operating table."

Zeng Yunjun chuckled, a hint of pride in his tone. "Director Zhong, what did I tell you? Dean Li has incredibly steady hands. How about it? Do you feel like you’ve struck gold?"

Zhong Dongyang nodded. As he applied the forceps, he spoke to Li Xu with an appreciation for his talent. "Dean Li, I’m being serious here. You’re only thirty. It would be a real shame if someone with your surgical talent didn’t pursue advanced studies in hepatobiliary surgery. How about it? Are you interested in transferring to our Renmin Hospital? I’ll personally mentor you. The key laboratories, the research groups—as long as you want it, I can arrange it all for you. Practicing traditional medicine at the Hospital of Traditional Chinese Medicine is too much of a waste for your hands."

If an ordinary doctor were to hear such an invitation, they would probably be trembling with excitement on the spot. Being personally mentored by the hepatobiliary heavyweight Zhong Dongyang meant a fast pass to the upper echelons of the surgical world, both within the province and across the country.

Hearing this, Zeng Yunjun grew anxious. "Hey, Director Zhong, you’re poaching right in front of me! I invited you here to save lives, so why are you stealing my people?"

Zhong Dongyang laughed heartily. "This is called a good bird choosing a fine tree to roost in. With this kind of talent, what future is there in studying traditional Chinese medicine? Do you think checking someone’s pulse is going to make their tumor disappear?"

Li Xu’s hands didn’t stop moving as he steadily assisted with the suturing and ligating. He replied calmly, "I appreciate your high regard, Director Zhong. However, I only studied surgery to make up for traditional Chinese medicine’s deficiencies in the ’external treatment’ of certain acute and critical illnesses. To me, traditional medicine is my roots."

"Nonsense," Zhong Dongyang scoffed. "Whether roots matter depends on if they can blossom and bear fruit. These hands of yours were born to hold a scalpel. Yunjun said your traditional medical skills are top-notch, but I still don’t believe it. This kind of operational habit is clearly honed from years of living in the operating room."

Zeng Yunjun sighed. "Director Zhong, I really didn’t lie to you. Just yesterday at the traditional medicine exchange conference, Dean Li debated the heavy-dosage usage of Aconite and raw gypsum and left Ju Jiahong completely speechless. He truly is a pure practitioner of traditional medicine, and a top-tier one at that."

Zhong Dongyang stopped what he was doing and looked at Li Xu in confusion. "Dr. Li, is what Director Yunjun saying true? Do you really have a background in traditional Chinese medicine?"

In Zhong Dongyang’s logic, surgeons needed to rack up immense numbers. If Li Xu was busy taking pulses and seeing patients every day, where would he find the time to perfect such masterful scalpel skills?

Li Xu snipped the silk suture and looked up directly at Zhong Dongyang. Even through the mask, the smile in his voice was evident. "Director Zhong, I graduated from Feng City Medical College, firmly rooted in the traditional Chinese medicine department. As for surgery, it’s really just a personal... little hobby."

"Fuck!"

Even in the solemn operating room, Zhong Dongyang couldn’t hold back his profanity.

A young man who had practiced surgery to the point of stunning a national hepatobiliary expert was actually telling him that this was just an "amateur hobby"?

Zhong Dongyang felt his worldview taking an unprecedented hit. He stared at Li Xu’s steady, powerful hands, taking a long time before he finally choked out a sentence.

"Your Hospital of Traditional Chinese Medicine is... fucking full of hidden talent. If this level of yours is only considered ’okay’ in the traditional medicine field, then we Western medicine doctors might as well collectively change careers."

Zhong Dongyang had originally only come here at Zeng Yunjun’s invitation to handle two rather tricky guest surgeon liver resections. After arriving last night, he had hardly slept a wink. After briefly listening to the case reports, he dove straight into the operating room at nine o’clock in the morning.

The physical stamina and focus of a surgeon were beyond what ordinary people could imagine. This was especially true for top-tier experts at the apex of the pyramid like Zhong Dongyang; once he entered a surgical state, his entire being was like a fully wound, precision instrument.

However, what truly surprised him wasn’t the difficulty of the surgeries themselves, but the "first assistant" standing beside him—Li Xu.

For two consecutive, high-intensity fine liver dissection surgeries that lasted from nine in the morning until past three in the afternoon—more than six full hours—Li Xu not only showed no signs of physical exhaustion, but the hands holding the aspirator and electrocautery tool didn’t exhibit the slightest tremor.

That textbook-level coordination made Zhong Dongyang even develop an illusion: the person assisting him wasn’t a vice dean with a background in traditional Chinese medicine, but a top-tier deputy director who had been deeply entrenched in the field of hepatobiliary surgery for twenty years.