The Godfather of Surgery

After the chaos of last night, Yang Ping had hardly slept a few hours, but the work had to go on.

"Dr. Yang! Let's head to the operating room together!" Zhang Lin called out, grabbing Yang Ping, who was about to go change the dressings.

"There are still plenty of dressings to change and a bunch of medical records to fill out. You can go alone," Yang Ping replied.

Director Han had been away at a meeting for a few days and had only just returned, so there were no surgeries scheduled for his team today. Going to the operating room meant he would have to tag along with another team. Yang Ping didn't really feel like going. He wanted to catch up on the medical records instead.

Zhang Lin, feeling a little awkward, said, "It's fine, we'll handle the dressings and the records together later."

Over the past few days, Zhang Lin had been treating Yang Ping like an errand boy, sometimes deliberately making things difficult for him. Yet Yang Ping never once complained, completing every task without hesitation.

Zhang Lin couldn't help but feel a little ridiculous. Yang Ping had performed a severed finger replantation with such skill, yet he remained so humble. Zhang Lin thought back to how he had looked down on Yang Ping just because he didn't graduate from a prestigious university.

How shallow! He felt ashamed of himself.

Lost in these thoughts, Zhang Lin almost slapped himself across the face.

"Alright, let me know if you need anything." Yang Ping pushed the dressing cart back to the treatment room.

Today, he wasn't being rushed around like a donkey. It was like a peasant had risen up in rebellion, no longer under Zhang Lin's thumb.

The two of them made their way to the operating room. While waiting for the elevator, Zhang Lin casually said, "Dr. Yang, are you free tonight? How about dinner? My treat, just somewhere nearby."

"Sure, I'll treat you. I've been following you around for the past few days, learning a lot of things I wasn't familiar with. It's all thanks to you, so I should thank you," Yang Ping said earnestly.

"Alright!" Zhang Lin agreed immediately.

It didn't matter who treated; it was just a meal to bond and clear up any misunderstandings.

With dinner plans settled, Zhang Lin felt much lighter. He thought, This guy is worth being friends with. He doesn't hold grudges and seems to have a broad mind.

They arrived at the operating room, where several surgeries were already in progress. The atmosphere in the room was lively, with doctors and nurses chatting as they worked.

Through the small glass window in the door, the two of them peered inside. Upon seeing Director Tian and Song Zimo, they opened the door and entered.

Fang Yan was wearing sterile gloves and holding up a leg, with the ankle already disinfected. Song Zimo was disinfecting from the ankle up to the groin. Director Tian stood by the X-ray viewer, arms crossed, analyzing the X-ray. Director Han was sitting on a bench in the corner. The instrument nurse was in surgical attire, arranging instruments on the instrument table. The circulating nurse walked around, checking if anything needed replenishing. The technician from the instrument supplier, seeing the situation, quietly approached Fang Yan.

"Fang, do you need help lifting the leg?" the technician asked.

"It's fine, he can manage. Go check the instruments," Song Zimo replied.

Only then did the technician step away.

Song Zimo noticed Zhang Lin and greeted him with a smile, "Come on, come on! Why are you so slow to get here? And where's the intern? Haven't seen him all day."

"They all went to a meeting in the medical education department. They all left after handing over their shifts," Zhang Lin answered.

"Ah, that explains it. Help lift Fang Yan's leg, then let him go wash his hands and change." Song Zimo instructed.

Zhang Lin quickly disinfected his hands, put on sterile gloves, and helped Fang Yan lift the leg so he could go wash his hands.

Since the area from the ankle up to the groin would be wrapped, Zhang Lin didn't need to scrub in. He just needed to apply some disinfecting gel, put on sterile gloves, and use a small sterile drape to assist in lifting the leg.

"Orthopedics starts with lifting legs and arms, you know? Our teachers in the planned economy days used to get extra food rations, and orthopedic surgeons got more than the others," Director Han said from the corner.

"Why?" Director Tian asked.

"Because orthopedic surgeons have to lift legs! It's heavy work, so they naturally need more food," Director Han joked, and everyone burst out laughing.

In the operating room, doctors and nurses often joked around to relieve the tension, sometimes with a bit of inappropriate humor. It was common for the atmosphere to be lighthearted, even in the midst of a stressful surgery. If everyone was overly serious and silent, it usually meant one of two things: either the surgeon was a novice and nervous, or the patient's condition was critical and needed immediate attention.

"No wonder," Director Tian said. "My teacher used to say that when they recruited orthopedic surgeons, they'd make you lift iron balls as a test. If you couldn't handle it, you were out."

"Iron balls? I thought it was a bottle of Erguotou (a type of liquor)! Test your alcohol tolerance. If you can't handle it, you're out. Only the qualified ones could move to the next round of interviews," Song Zimo added.

"Director Tian, I'll tell you, you're lucky to have arrived in this era. If you had come ten years ago, with your alcohol tolerance, you wouldn't have made it into orthopedics," Director Han said.

They continued chatting as they worked, the conversation ebbing and flowing. The disinfecting and draping were completed, and the electrocautery and suction were set up. Soon, Director Tian went to wash his hands and change.

Director Han had no surgeries scheduled today, so he just stayed in the operating room, occasionally offering guidance. He usually handled more complex surgeries.

Yang Ping visited a few other operating rooms: Director Bai was performing a trochanteric fracture repair, Director Ouyang was working on a pelvic fracture, and the spinal team was performing a cervical spine surgery. The joint team was doing a knee replacement.

For the past week, Yang Ping had rarely been in the operating room. Zhang Lin, that jerk, had piled all the work on him—prescriptions, dressing changes, and writing medical records. By the time he was done, most of the day had passed, leaving no time to assist in surgeries.

Walking around the operating rooms, Yang Ping gained a better impression of the different teams. The trauma orthopedic department had five groups: Director Han, Director Tian, Director Ouyang, Director Bai, and Director Ding.

The department had 80 beds, with 15 assigned to each team, and 5 shared for critically ill patients. The spinal and joint departments had 45 beds each, and the sports medicine department had only 20 beds.

In the operating room, Yang Ping managed to grab a quick bite in between surgeries. He then lay down on a long bench in the break room.

His phone rang. It was Xiao Wu.

"Boss, I passed the interview! I got into the emergency department as an EMT. Another hospital for our brothers. I've rented a place just downstairs, on the 16th floor. Are you free tonight? Let's have dinner. Xiao Qing is joining us too—she's starting at the emergency department as well."

"Tonight? I already have dinner plans with the department," Yang Ping replied, remembering his dinner with Zhang Lin.

"Alright then, next time. Bye!" Xiao Wu hung up.

Xiao Qing was Xiao Wu's girlfriend, a nurse at the People's Hospital. The guy had some game—when he graduated, he'd managed to get her hooked. Now, as he moved to Sanbo Hospital, she insisted on following him. Her family wasn't happy and had even threatened to cut ties with her, but she went anyway.

As Yang Ping was lying down, Director Han entered and saw him.

"Yang Ping, how's everything going? Have you gotten used to it? You should get more hands-on experience, especially with emergency surgeries. Young people need to be proactive."

Yang Ping quickly sat up. "Yes, I've told Dr. Song that if there are any emergency surgeries, I'm ready to assist. I've also informed Director Tian. If they need extra hands, they can call on me."

"Good!" Director Han nodded approvingly.

After having a drink of water, he left.

Yang Ping spent the rest of the afternoon in the operating room. By 7 PM, after finishing his surgeries, he and Zhang Lin went to a nearby restaurant for dinner.

The area around the hospital was bustling with life, thanks to the large number of people in the hospital and the surrounding factories and office buildings. Naturally, the services had grown to match the demand.

They found a Sichuan restaurant, ordered a few dishes: grilled fish, iron plate beef, Sichuan sausages, a vegetable dish, and a soup.

The two of them had a pleasant conversation, and after drinking a bit of beer, Zhang Lin apologized for some of his previous behavior. Yang Ping waved it off—he didn't take it to heart, and it wasn't a big deal.

With that, Zhang Lin felt relieved. He had been carrying a bit of guilt, but now it was all gone. One drink, and they were officially friends.

Zhang Lin, a Northeastern guy, had come to the South after his master's degree. His father had exhausted all his connections to help him

land a position at Sanbo Hospital. His girlfriend worked in pediatrics at the same hospital. They had saved a bit of money and planned to buy a house with the help of their parents for their wedding.

"Do you know Tang Fei?" Zhang Lin suddenly asked.

"No," Yang Ping replied.

"I saw you talking and laughing with her the other day," Zhang Lin said, referring to Yang Ping's discussion with Tang Fei about a femoral neck fracture X-ray.

"Oh, she asked me how I could identify a hidden femoral neck fracture," Yang Ping replied, not too interested in the topic.

Zhang Lin seemed eager to talk: "Oh, I thought you knew her well. By the way, I'll tell you something—Tang Fei is one of the most beautiful women in our hospital. Song Zimo likes her."

Yang Ping didn't care about this, but Zhang Lin clearly did. He continued: "You know, Song Zimo has been chasing Tang Fei for years. He's had no luck, though. He's one of our hospital's top guys—good-looking, tall, a doctor with a PhD from a top university, and rich. Have you seen the car he drives to work?"

Yang Ping glanced at him.

"A BMW 7 series!" Zhang Lin said with a grin.

"Well, Tang Fei's family is pretty wealthy too. They say she has a Maserati, all these rich people with their golden keys. Meanwhile, here I am, just an average guy with my electric scooter, spending my youth on bills," Zhang Lin joked.

"Still young, huh? You're in your twenties," Yang Ping remarked.

"Don't be so sentimental, man. Everyone has their own life. Just live your own well, and that's the greatest happiness. Most people are just average folks, and we have our own happiness," Yang Ping reassured him.

Zhang Lin raised his glass: "Well said. Have you seen the properties near the bridge? I've checked them out a few times, planning to buy one. Start small, make it a nest."

"Impressive! You're already looking at properties a few years after graduation?" Yang Ping complimented him.

Zhang Lin squinted: "Don't even talk about it, I've got my struggles."

"How do you still have more alcohol?" Yang Ping asked.

"You said it was fine, didn't you?"

"Did I say that? Alright, alright. Northerners sure don't back down when it comes to drinking!"