The Surgeon’s Studio

[I’m here. Which step is the surgeon doing now?]

Some latecomers finally joined the live stream in Xinglin Garden.

There was nothing fascinating about an appendectomy, but the viewers were particularly interested in watching the subtleties and fine details such as blunt dissections of adhesive tissue with fingers or the removal of abscesses on an edematous tissue in the surgery.

Even though it was simply an appendectomy for acute phlegmonous appendicitis, professionals could understand the extreme difficulty behind it through the surgeon’s many savvy techniques.

This resulted in the anonymous account receiving a significant amount of attention and subscribers after this one appendectomy live broadcast.

[I regret to inform you that you’re too late.]

[The surgery was completed. My two-hour wait was not in vain.]

[How long was the surgery? I went online as soon as WeChat sent me a notification, and the surgery is done?]

[Around four minutes, if I’m not mistaken. It was just a normal appendicitis case anyway, but the incision was only three centimeters. You can watch the replay later.]

Even though the surgery was over, many studious doctors continued to exchange views in the chat room.

In their opinion, a surgeon with the courage to broadcast their surgery on a professional website was essentially a powerful person.

They were definitely not normal surgeons, as even ordinary but high-skilled surgeons dared not broadcast their surgeries like Zheng Ren did. This was the Internet, any mistake would end up facing the consequences for a very long time.

Thus, the doctors held high regards for the surgeon who live streamed his surgery. Apart from expressing their admiration and respect for Zheng Ren in Xinglin Garden, many doctors had put in a request for advanced surgical studies in the hospital he worked in as well.

However, they received no response. The host surgeon seemed to care only for the surgery and nothing else, judging by his quick disappearance as soon as the operation was over.

…

Zheng Ren delivered the patient back to the first general surgery department.

None of the patient’s family members approached him upon his exit of the operating theater. The patient’s parents, who were perturbed and sat on a hard plastic bench outside the operating theater, were comforting each other without even looking his way.

“Zhao Jia’s family members,” yelled a curious Zheng Ren, who wore his surgical attire beneath a white coat, after realizing that no one was approaching him as he pushed the hospital bed out of the operating theater.

“…” Zhao Jia’s parents were momentarily stunned. They must have misheard the surgeon. It must have been a mistake.

Zheng Ren had met with Zhao Jia’s parents earlier when they signed the preoperative informed consent documents. After scanning around for a while, he finally located the duo on their bench and he raised his voice again. “Zhao Jia’s family members, please come and lend me a hand.”

“Doctor Zheng, the surgery…” Zhao Jia’s father spoke with a chalk-white complexion and shaking legs.

How long had it been? Ten minutes? Why did they come out?

Every possibility started pouring into his mind and overwhelming his senses.

For example, a tumor had been found in the middle of an operation. It was a misdiagnosis and another signature was required in the informed consent documents.

That, or modifications in the surgical plan were required due to iatrogenic damage to some major artery intraoperatively. An explanation was compulsory and informed consent would have to be taken again in that situation.

No matter which scenario it was, one thing was for sure. His son was in danger.

“The surgery is complete. Please help me pull the bed from the front and I’ll push it from behind. Zhao Jia’s mother, please press the button for the elevator,” said Zheng Ren.

“…” Finished? The operation had been successfully finished with no obstacles?

“The surgery was a success. If you want to take a look at the appendix, the nurse responsible for sending the specimen to the pathology lab will show it to you later.”

“Doctor Zheng, thank you so much!”

Not only were the anesthesiologist and the patient’s family members were not used to such a fast surgery, even the nurses in the first general surgery department had not even finished preparing a bed slot for the patient.

The nurses, who were taking their time with dinner, jumped like scared rabbits when the patient returned from the operating theater. One of them rushed to prepare a bed while the other searched for the necessary equipment, such as the electrocardiogram.

“No hurry, take your time,” Zheng Ren advised rather than scold the nurses, who had not had dinner at ten o’clock at night. Only those who had endured the agony of on-call duty would understand and empathize with their exhaustion.

After assisting with the patient’s transfer to his bed, Zheng Ren explained the patient’s condition to his family members and wrote the surgery records before changing in the operating theater locker room.

There was an unread message from Xie Yiren on WeChat, stating that she had already changed her attire and was currently waiting for him in the underground parking lot.

Zheng Ren was not used to having supperl. When he was still working in the general surgery department, the clinical work would be so overwhelming that he regularly got off work in the middle of the night, when he was too tired for supper and all food delivery services were closed.

Most importantly, he had to monitor every patient after their surgery, so he did not even have the chance to sneak out of the hospital for supper.

This was the biggest difference between a clinical surgery department and an operating theater.

Zheng Ren, who was constantly on edge from the twenty percent progression rate in his appendectomy mission, called the emergency department to inform them about his temporary absence for supper and instructed them to notify him immediately upon encountering an appendicitis case.

Finally, he reached the underground parking lot after finishing his work.

A red Volvo XC60 was parked near the elevator with Xie Yiren in the driver’s seat.

Zheng Ren was actually trying to guess Xie Yiren’s car—he was stuck between a Ferrari or Porsche—on his way to the parking lot.

However, he did not expect Xie Yiren to drive a sports utility vehicle that was completely at odds with her size.

“You came.”

“I did.”

Xie Yiren put her phone down, fastened her seatbelt, and started the engine.

“Are you okay with having crayfish for supper?” asked Xie Yiren.

“It’s fine as long as it’s fast. A surgical case may arrive at the emergency department any time,” answered Zheng Ren.

“You’re really dedicated to your work. When I was in the operating theater, I heard from the other sisters that you remained single after all these years because of poverty and unattractive facial features. Well, I don’t think that’s true,” replied Xie Yiren.

“…” Zheng Ren’s colleagues gossiping about him was completely unexpected, and that they thought he was lacking both financially and aesthetically… Well, he had to admit that they were speaking the truth, but it was still heartbreaking.

“You can easily earn a fortune, especially with your surgery skill. I believe even a fly-in, fly-out surgeons would earn more than the chief surgeons of our hospital.” Without realizing what she was about to say would deal ten thousand damage to Zheng Ren’s health bar, Xie Yiren added, “What do you have to fear even if you’re slightly ugly? Besides, you look handsome when you perform a surgery. To be honest, you aren’t exactly ugly, just a little plain-looking, that’s all.”

Critical hit x2!

‘Xie Yiren is a cute young lady.’ Zheng Ren was repeating the same sentence in his mind at that moment.

The duo arrived at the restaurant in no time as it was not far away from the hospital.

Xie Yiren waved her hand and yelled, “One spicy and one original flavor.”

The busy waiter acknowledged her order and responded with a smile. It seemed like she was a frequent customer and had familiarized herself with the staff.

She only remembered she was not alone after making the order. Turning to Zheng Ren, she stuck her tongue out and asked apologetically, “Doctor Zheng, which flavor do you prefer?”

“Anything will do,” replied Zheng Ren with a smile as he shifted his gaze toward the table next to theirs.

Xie Yiren followed his gaze out of curiosity.

Three women were happily enjoying crayfish at that table. Two of them were actually beautiful twin sisters in their early twenties, whereas the eldest among the trio was presumably their mother, who was in her late forties or early fifties.

The munching of the crayfish gave their cheeks a rosy hue, but there was something strange about the mother’s behavior. Every time when she finished a crayfish, she would press her cheek onto her shoulder for a couple of seconds before resuming her eating.

“Relax, our crayfish will be served soon,” said Xie Yiren who assumed Zheng Ren was getting famished.

“Little Xie, can you please ask one of the young ladies to come over? I’ve something to say to her,” asked Zheng Ren.

What the hell? Xie Yiren was dumbfounded.

Was Doctor Zheng trying to solve his bachelor issue at that moment? Was it possible that whatever she mentioned just now had triggered him?

Well, it seemed to be a good thing, after all. Doctor Zheng was almost thirty years old, and if he failed to get into a relationship soon, it would be extremely difficult for him to find a girlfriend in the future.

Xie Yiren nodded in response as the crayfish was not served yet. Then, she stood up, walked toward one of the twin sisters, and started whispering into her ear.

The chosen young lady was taken by surprise and gave Zheng Ren a contemptuous gaze.

Soon, Xie Yiren and the young lady returned to Zheng Ren’s table.

The young lady sat down and mocked, “Attempting to court a girl when there is a lady beside you. This is the first time I encountered such despicable scum.”