You have the same spirit I did in my youth.

"Exeter University?" Luo Hao had never heard of it.

It didn't sound like one of those transparently fake diploma mills, nor did it seem like the type of institution established solely to swindle money.

"Xiao Chen is quite something!" the anesthesiologist exclaimed with admiration. "At first, when he mentioned it, I had no clue what that university was. I looked it up when I got home, and holy crap! It's actually incredibly impressive!"

"Brother Guan, please, enough," Chen Yong said, sounding rather helpless.

"Which medical major is strong at Exeter? Biology? I've never heard of it," Luo Hao asked.

"Occultism! You become a wizard after you graduate," the anesthesiologist said with a grin.

"Huh?" Luo Hao was stunned.

"Hogwarts, the school for training wizards written by J.K. Rowling—Exeter University actually has a major for that," the anesthesiologist explained to Luo Hao with great enthusiasm.

"!!!"

Luo Hao was shocked that such an unreliable thing could exist.

The key was, with such an unserious major, people actually went to study it?!

This had to be a joke.

"Master of Magic and Occult Science," Chen Yong sighed helplessly, fearing the anesthesiologist would get even more carried away, so he decided to explain it himself. "When I was sending out resumes after graduation, I happened to find that Exeter had a major in Magic and Occultism. The requirements weren't low, but I met them."

"I sent in an application, not expecting them to actually admit me. I was curious about the occult, so I finished the study-abroad paperwork and went to learn about it."

"I was young and naive; I got scammed," Chen Yong explained resignedly.

Luo Hao was filled with endless astonishment and reflection.

It seemed Chen Yong really wasn't a very reliable person. A Master of Magic and Occultism, only to end up as a clinical doctor at the Donglian Mining General Hospital.

What did he use to treat patients? Don't tell me he uses Cleric healing spells.

A big heal, and the patient's HP goes up—that would be a perfect match for the system!

Luo Hao felt that Chen Yong should have been the one to receive the system.

Just imagining a modern city where a Cleric with a system runs rampant in a hospital... if such a novel existed, Luo Hao would want to take a look. (Hmm, I'll write that in my next book.)

"Chen Yong, what did you actually study in school?" Luo Hao asked curiously.

Chen Yong sighed, his eyes complex as he stared blankly at the warm saline-soaked gauze.

"I've heard there are Taoist schools, undergraduate level, where you study things like drawing talismans every day. I just don't know how to sign up; otherwise, I'd send my son to study there too," the anesthesiologist said.

"Those schools actually exist?" the scrub nurse asked, surprised.

"Of course. You don't have to deal with the rat race after graduation; you're a certified Archmage. Let me tell you, Xiao Chen, you're just not thinking it through, insisting on being a doctor. Wouldn't it be better to be a cleric? Even if you don't know much, exorcisms... well, the risk is high, but you could always go to a church and listen to people's inner thoughts."

"So much gossip—it would be as happy as can be."

The more the anesthesiologist talked, the more excited he got; any trace of sleepiness had long been chased to the ends of the earth.

"Magic and Occultism doesn't make you a cleric, even after graduation," Chen Yong argued.

"Well, an Archmage then. No, wait, you'd be a Wizard's Apprentice. That's still fine; surely it's better than the daily grind here at the hospital."

Luo Hao looked at Chen Yong with great interest. This guy was the real-deal Archmage—or at least, he would be.

Just as he was about to ask Chen Yong what he studied during his Master's program, Luo Hao heard footsteps and hearty laughter coming from the hallway.

Lin Yuming was here!

Old Director Guohua must have arrived too!!

Luo Hao straightened his expression, looking with a hint of regret at the system panel in the top-right corner of his vision; he probably wouldn't be able to complete this task.

"How is the surgery? What stage are you at?" a voice boomed.

The voice was like a temple bell, full of vigor; the lights of the shadowless lamp seemed to tremble a few times in response.

Heavy footsteps echoed, as if a Tyrannosaurus Rex had traveled through time from the Cretaceous period.

"Director Guohua!" The anesthesiologist beamed, his face mask unable to hide his expression as he hurried over with familiarity.

"Xiao Guan, are you busy lately? Are there many surgeries?"

Director Guohua spoke as he walked behind Luo Hao.

Although Luo Hao didn't turn back to look at Wang Guohua, the former head of the Department of Surgery at the Mining Hospital, he felt his approach and removed the warm saline gauze, handing it to the scrub nurse.

"Director Guohua, after opening the abdomen, we found an intussusception in the patient's intestine. It has been reduced, and I didn't see any necrosis in the bowel. The intraoperative findings are consistent with the imaging; the colon..."

Luo Hao began to report the patient's condition concisely.

Wang Guohua stood with his hands behind his back, watching the surgical field.

Once Luo Hao finished his introduction, Wang Guohua went to the film viewer to examine the scans.

After 1 minute and 12 seconds, Wang Guohua asked, "Xiao Luo, the patient from a few days ago—was it you who went to the medical records room to dig up the old files and found the surgery notes I wrote?"

"Yes." Luo Hao, not expecting Wang Guohua to ask this, wasn't sure of his intent and gave a simple affirmative.

Wang Guohua didn't commit to a reaction and turned to scrub in.

When he returned, Luo Hao had already moved to the position of second assistant, yielding the primary surgeon's spot.

"You do it," Wang Guohua said as he wiped his hands.

The old director's tone was unquestionable, domineering and assertive.

"Him?"

The anesthesiologist was stunned.

"With me here, could anything go wrong with a simple bowel resection and anastomosis?" Wang Guohua retorted.

"Of course not! With you here, Director Guohua, my heart is at ease," the anesthesiologist quickly clarified.

Although Wang Guohua had retired, his authority remained, and the staff at the Mining Hospital held him in such high esteem that no one questioned his decision.

Wang Guohua stepped directly into the position of first assistant, and Chen Yong moved aside to dutifully hold the retractors.

"Proceed," Wang Guohua said.

Luo Hao raised an eyebrow and glanced at the system task.

In an instant, his favor toward Wang Guohua increased significantly.

It seemed the old director had no intention of taking Wen Youren's side.

In other professions, Luo Hao might have worried, but this was the operating table; very few people would use a patient as a bargaining chip.

Of course, those who would do such a thing had long since risen to higher positions and wouldn't be "stalling" in clinical practice.

Luo Hao had only heard Wang Guohua's name in "legends" and followed others in respectfully calling him Old Director Guohua.

At most, they had a spiritual connection through that 20-year-old medical record.

He hadn't expected Wang Guohua to step up and let him perform the bowel resection and anastomosis himself.

This style was a hundred times better than Wen Youren's.

Various stray thoughts flashed through Luo Hao's mind, and he immediately focused, completing the surgery according to standard procedures.

***

Some steps that Wang Guohua hadn't seen clearly, Luo Hao repeated for him.

Luo Hao first explored the position, size, and mobility of the tumor in the left colon, as well as checking for any lymph node or abdominal organ metastasis.

Every step had its purpose, and Wang Guohua remained silent, following Luo Hao's surgical steps.

After demonstrating the previous surgical process, Luo Hao ligated the mesenteric vessels, incised the posterior peritoneum below the suspensory ligament of the duodenum, separated and ligated the inferior mesenteric artery and vein, and then severed them, with proximal ligation and suture ligation.

Luo Hao worked methodically, completing the steps exactly according to surgical textbooks, almost perfectly.

After dealing with the vessels, Luo Hao used fine gauze strips to pass through the mesentery at the edge of the intestinal wall, about 5-6 cm above and below the tumor, tightening the bowel lumen to control intestinal contents and prevent them from flowing, which could cause spread.

After ensuring protection, Luo Hao checked again, then, with Wang Guohua's assistance, removed the intestine.

Luo Hao turned to place the bowel in a sterile tray, marked the contaminated area, and asked the scrub nurse for a new blade to begin dissection.

A minute later, Luo Hao said with certainty, "Visually, it's a lipoma. Send it to the pathology department for intraoperative frozen section."

The circulating nurse was already prepared; hearing this, she took the specimen and jogged to the pathology department.

The surgery paused once more.

"Your name is Luo Hao, right?" Wang Guohua asked.

"Director Guohua, yes it is," Luo Hao replied. "Thank you for coming in so late to save the surgery."

"Heh." Wang Guohua gave a plain smile, ignoring the comment about saving the surgery, and asked, "How did you think to look at my handwritten surgery notes from 20 years ago last time?"

"At the time, looking at the imaging, I felt the patient's history didn't match up; it shouldn't have been a simple cholecystectomy. But it was a long time ago, and the patient claimed it was done by you, Old Director Guohua. Although I hadn't worked with you, I had heard colleagues speak of you."

Wang Guohua remained calm, watching Luo Hao.

"I guessed that with your attention to detail, Old Director, you would have left a record to prevent yourself from forgetting or the patient misremembering, which could lead other doctors to misjudge."

"So I went to the records room, and as expected, I found the surgery notes you wrote back then. Based on the notes, I deduced the patient had 'sewer pool syndrome,' and the subsequent treatment followed logically."

Luo Hao finished and narrowed his eyes slightly.

He was smiling, expressing his respect for the senior.

Wang Guohua nodded, noncommittal, and changed the subject. "I heard from Director Lin that you haven't performed any surgeries since you graduated and returned. Is that so?"

"I've been working in the medical administrative office since I got back and haven't been in clinical practice. This time was a last resort."

"How is the surgery going?"

Just as they were talking, Wen Youren's triumphant voice drifted in.

The circulating nurse had left to deliver the pathology specimen, the air-tight doors of the operating room were open, and everyone could hear Wen Youren clearly.

"Why did you start the surgery without me here! Who's going to take responsibility if something goes wrong! Honestly, not a single one of you is reliable; can't even stay hospitalized in peace."

Luo Hao felt a stir and looked at Wang Guohua.

The old director acted as if he hadn't heard Wen Youren, continuing to ask, "I see your surgery is quite good. Did you practice in school? Did your teachers give you so much freedom?"

"I practiced, and my teachers were good to me, letting me perform a dozen or so. It's been a few years, so I'm a bit rusty," Luo Hao said modestly.

As he spoke, he pondered: it was said that Wang Guohua had personally taught Wen Youren, and after Wang retired, Wen logically took over as director.

In terms of mentorship, the two were very close.

Yet Wang Guohua completely ignored Wen Youren's arrival.

Strange.

"A bunch of losers. I'm hospitalized, and I still have to come in for emergency surgery. Even a donkey on a commune isn't used this hard. *Cough, cough.* Can't be helped, who told us we're doctors. Treat the sick, save the dying—who the hell is going to save me?"

The voice drew closer, and Wen Youren walked in, lugging an IV drip.

Entering the OR, Wen Youren was met with a familiar yet strange sight—Old Director Guohua was standing... standing in the position of the assistant. He was stunned.

The scene was eerily familiar.

Many years ago, when he was learning surgery, it was just like this—Old Director Guohua standing as first assistant, teaching him hand-in-hand.

The sight before him made Wen Youren dazed.

The surgeon's spot should have been his, but now, it was someone else.

He froze for several seconds, forcing a strained smile. "Master, why are you here!"

"Entering an OR without a mask? Who taught you that? Get out." Wang Guohua asked with a cold face.

Wen Youren turned and left, rushing to the door to put on a mask.

The IV tubing caught on the door, and because of his hurried movements, the needle was ripped from his vein.

A streak of bright red blood landed on the floor.

Wang Guohua frowned, glaring fiercely at Wen Youren.

Blood splattering in an OR was common, but it was usually the patient's.

A doctor bleeding in the OR... and in this manner—it was truly shameful.

"Dr. Luo, your surgery is precise and orderly, fast without being chaotic. Your level is very high." Wang Guohua ignored Wen Youren and continued his "casual chat" with Luo Hao.

"If you keep praising me like that, Old Director Guohua, I'll get cocky," Luo Hao said with a smile. "It's been a long time since I performed surgery, so I'm a bit rusty; I can only follow the surgical textbooks step by step."

"Not bad. The surgery just now had several difficult parts, but I saw you were very meticulous, and the completion rate was quite high. While not perfect, there's nothing to pick at," Wang Guohua continued to praise.

Wen Youren, clutching his bleeding hand, listened to his master, Old Director Guohua, praising Luo Hao.

His heart felt twisted into a knot, an indescribable discomfort.

He had wanted to appear in the OR at the critical moment to show Lin Yuming that the Mining Hospital couldn't function without him!

The calculation had been perfect, but the reality was something else entirely.

Not only did Lin Yuming invite Old Director Guohua to handle the emergency, but the surgeon was also, for crying out loud, Luo Hao!

Wen Youren stood at the door, holding his hand, completely stunned.

"Director Wen, should you go get that bandaged?" the anesthesiologist asked, seeing the blood on the floor and Wen Youren standing there in a trance.

"Huh?" Wen Youren blinked.

"Ah, what a mess this has turned into." The anesthesiologist scratched his head, told his assistant to watch the ventilator, and led Wen Youren away to be bandaged, giving him an exit.

"When did Director Guohua arrive?" Wen Youren asked, still dazed as he was being bandaged.

The anesthesiologist glanced at the IV bottle. There was no label, and just as he suspected, it was likely just saline, used to trick people.

The way Director Wen handled things—the anesthesiologist felt a mix of emotions.

"They say that when the patient arrived, Director Lin went to Old Director Guohua's house to invite him," the anesthesiologist said. "Director Wen, it's just that... *cough, cough*... you should have been in touch with Old Director Guohua."

Wen Youren felt as if a bottle of soy sauce had overturned in his heart; the mix of emotions was enough to drive him mad.

Wang Guohua, his own master—who would have thought he'd be invited by that dog Lin Yuming to save the day.

Although he hadn't expected it, now that he thought about it, everything was perfectly logical.

He was "critically ill," there was an emergency bowel surgery, and in Donglian City, who else could reliably pull off such a procedure?

Only Master Wang Guohua had the best chance, even if he hadn't touched a scalpel in three years.

Wen Youren's "wound" wasn't big; a simple bandage job took less than a minute.

***

"Director Wen, where are you going?" the anesthesiologist asked cautiously.

He sighed inwardly.

At the hospital-wide consultation a few days ago, Wen Youren had been slapped in the face by Director Lin—a literal slap in the face.

From his spirit to his body, Wen Youren had been rubbed into the dirt by Director Lin.

Which was why today's events had occurred.

Now, stuck in the middle, it was incredibly difficult.

The anesthesiologist prepared to play dead; the less he said, the better.

Wen Youren had sobered up a bit by now. He didn't answer the anesthesiologist but strode toward the OR.

"Xiao Luo, how many types of suturing are there for bowel anastomosis?"

The familiar, intimate voice drifted out from the OR, and Wen Youren almost burst into tears.

Back when Director Guohua used to teach him, he would always ask that.

He had once found Director Guohua's nagging annoying, like he was in the late stages of Alzheimer's.

But hearing the same question now, Wen Youren's footsteps involuntarily paused.

"For posterior full-layer suturing, you can use simple interrupted, simple continuous, or continuous locking sutures."

"For anterior full-layer, you can use simple interrupted, or continuous full-layer horizontal mattress inversion sutures."

"The most common for bowel resection and anastomosis is the interrupted vertical mattress inversion suture."

"Are you proficient?" Wang Guohua asked aimlessly.

"It's okay. I'll take a stitch, and if you see anything inappropriate, just call a stop," Luo Hao said.

"Xiao Linzi, hurry them up. What is Xiao Chi in pathology doing? It's been 15 minutes, and the intraoperative frozen section still isn't out!"

"Director Guohua, it takes time to send the specimen; please don't be anxious," Lin Yuming said with a reassuring smile.

Everyone knew Wang Guohua's temper.

Years ago, when there were many emergency stabbings and car accidents, whenever an emergency came in, Wang Guohua would start yelling as soon as he entered the OR.

His roar was like a whip, cracking against the backs of the circulating nurses and anesthesiologists, urging them to run.

It had been years since he performed surgery, yet he still had the same old temper.

Lin Yuming said that, but still took out his phone to call pathology.

"Interrupted vertical mattress inversion suturing isn't that simple, Xiao Luo. Be careful not to let me find any faults."

"There are bound to be faults. If you point them out, I'll correct them."

Wen Youren walked into the OR, feeling awkward as the old man and the young man chatted.

It seemed that Old Director Guohua and Luo Hao were the true master and apprentice now, while he was the outsider.

Why was it like this!

Wen Youren's legs felt like they were filled with lead; he couldn't take a step.

But the old director had come for an emergency, and he had shown his face. Could he just leave without saying anything?

Wen Youren hated that old dog Lin Yuming to death!

He was just too insidious!!

"Director Wen, you're here," the circulating nurse greeted him as he entered.

"Yes. Master, I'm sorry. I suddenly fell ill, and I've troubled you to make a trip," Wen Youren said dismissively to the nurse, immediately greeting Wang Guohua.

"You're so young, yet your health isn't as good as mine. I heard you were hospitalized; go back and rest," Wang Guohua said calmly.

"Master, since you're already here, how could I be so rude," Wen Youren said, thick-skinned.

"Director Guohua, the intraoperative frozen section is benign!" Lin Yuming reported excitedly.

The previously stifling atmosphere in the OR suddenly became cheerful.

The removed tumor was benign—that alone was enough to make people happy.

"Suture!" Wang Guohua didn't waste time, picking up the large forceps, his little finger hooked around the suture scissors, ready to assist Luo Hao.

Luo Hao reached out, and the needle holder was placed in his hand.

Waiting for the intraoperative frozen result, the benign news was like a spring breeze breaking through a frozen lake, and the interrupted surgery finally began again.

Luo Hao wasn't in a hurry, checking the needle holder first.

He gripped the needle in the posterior third of the arc, at the front third of the holder.

He tested it; the holder held the needle firmly without wobbling, loosening, or turning, and he didn't lock the holder all the way.

Luo Hao locked it two clicks.

He was very serious and didn't feel any pressure from having the old director standing in the assistant's spot.

Like a soldier preparing his rifle before a battle, Luo Hao checked everything meticulously until the needle holder perfectly matched his operating habits.

Then, Luo Hao used his left hand to hold the forceps, lifting the outer tissue of the intestine, and used his right hand to suture.

Aiming the needle tip at the entry point, he relied on the rotation of his wrist and forearm to rotate the needle holder in place, following the arc of the needle to enter and exit at the corresponding symmetrical point on the opposite side, using the forceps to fix the needle head in place.

The entire process was as smooth and natural as flowing water.

Wen Youren's eyes widened, his pupils shrinking as if staring directly at the sun.

Interrupted vertical mattress inversion suturing was written in books, but books contained many things; those who could apply that knowledge in practice were as rare as morning stars.

Bowel anastomosis wasn't simple. Use too much force, and while it would "close," complications like local ischemia at the anastomosis site would arrive right on cue.

If the anastomosis didn't heal after surgery, intestinal fluid would leak into the abdominal cavity, causing acute or chronic peritonitis, requiring a second surgery to remove another section of the bowel.

If you used too little force, the bowel wouldn't connect at all, and the same problems would occur.

The key was the right amount of force, which made the details of the interrupted vertical mattress inversion suture the focus and difficulty of bowel anastomosis.

Without the earnest teaching of an old expert, passing on the lessons of past failures to the surgeon, and without the tempering of dozens of surgeries, it was impossible to accomplish.

Yet Luo Hao handled it with ease, performing the interrupted vertical mattress inversion suture beautifully.

Wen Youren asked himself: even if he could complete the anastomosis, he definitely couldn't do it as well as Luo Hao.

How!

How could he master such a high-end surgical technique!!

Luo Hao finished the suture and tied the knot. His right hand holding the needle holder flicked slightly upward at the end, and the suture scissors hooked by Wang Guohua's right little finger arrived right on time, sliding along the suture line to the knot, then lifting up to snip the suture 5 millimeters from the knot.

"Not bad," Wang Guohua said. "A bit of the flair I had when I was young."

"!!!"

The old director's simple sentence sounded like a thunderclap in Wen Youren's ears.