At this moment, the most tense person was not Guan Xing. Immersed in the procedure, he was entirely focused on executing the ideas in his mind. At this point, no one could truly assist him.
Outside the glass window, the two elder observers remained silent. After Guan Xing gave his instructions, they lifted their heads, locking eyes with one another in silent admiration, before directing their full attention to Guan Xing's nimble hands.
The most astonished, of course, was Liu Xinyun. Jealous of this sudden newcomer who had eclipsed his status as the hospital's chief surgeon, he had never dared imagine attempting a dual-organ cancer operation. Regardless of Guan Xing's skills, the courage alone commanded respect. Though his face betrayed little, he, like the others, was anxious yet eager to witness the outcome.
The procedure was dazzling, but glory aside, the result was paramount. No matter how brilliant the young surgeon, if the patient didn't survive, all efforts were wasted. Liu Xinyun's conflicted feelings—hoping for survival yet anticipating failure—were human.
"Dr. Guan, heartbeat ten per minute, rhythm balanced," the assisting physician monitored the electrocardiograph closely, eyes gleaming with anxious excitement. Success or failure was uncertain, yet the opportunity itself thrilled him.
"Maintain it!" Guan Xing's eyes never left the patient's stomach, lungs, and heart. Each possible complication was running through his mind. With a calm command, his small scalpel—a half-finger-width blade—sliced the first incision.
As the stomach was the primary source of infection, he addressed it first. Fortunately, he didn't follow the original plan of a full gastrectomy with an artificial replacement. By the seventh cut, in six minutes, all necrotic tissue was removed. Though half the stomach was gone, the remaining tissue was sufficient for normal function.
"Dr. Guan, patient's heart rhythm rebounding, blood pressure spiking," the assistant reported urgently.
Any shift in vital signs could affect the operation's outcome. A single fluctuation in heartbeat could instantly determine life or death.
Du Juan, cautious and trembling, experienced her first intense surgical reality—a combination of fear, exhilaration, and an unforgettable rite of passage.
"Dr. Guan, heart rhythm rebounding, blood pressure rising!" she relayed the assistant's warning promptly. Precision in communication was part of her job as the assistant.
"Clamp!" Guan Xing's command rang out. The assistant repeated, "Heart rate dropping to eight… seven… now seven."
This was the human limit. The heart's rhythm supports all bodily functions, especially the brain. A momentary lapse could result in death or irreversible brain damage, rendering even a successful surgery meaningless.
The clamp stabilized the cardiac vessels. Guan Xing had prepared for this during thoracic isolation. Calmly, he maneuvered with unmatched precision.
"Raised… nine, ten, eleven… up to eleven, continue," the assistant reported. The delicate cycle consumed half the allotted time for the first surgical phase.
Guan Xing's next task: repair the lung's infected area. The heart's burden left no room for delay. The countdown pressure was palpable; sweat silently soaked their brows. All six doctors in the OR were fully committed, every breath measured, every movement exact.
Guan Xing needed no special equipment. No artificial washes, filters, or miracle drugs. Every motion flowed like a dance, precise yet gentle, revealing the finesse of a master surgeon.
Du Juan's voice whispered at his ear, "Dr. Guan, five minutes left. Patient's body is deteriorating; blood and oxygen supply are insufficient."
Guan Xing lifted his gaze to Du Juan. His eyes were cold and serene, like an icy mountain lake, transparent yet unyielding.
"Open cardiac rhythm control. Keep it balanced—the patient cannot tolerate normal heartbeats yet." He set aside the bloody scalpel as the second surgeon removed the first cardiac blockade needle.
The assistant's tense voice reported: "Fifteen… seventeen… nineteen… twenty-six." The heart gradually stabilized. With the organ beating normally, everything became possible.
"Test function."
Even confident in his technique, Guan Xing followed standard protocol. When the heart resumed full physiological function, the surrounding instruments all lit up. Operators meticulously recorded the patient's post-operative status.
After verifying four core physiological markers, Guan Xing relaxed slightly. He instructed the assistant to complete simple sutures. Excited smiles spread across the team, and Du Juan timidly asked, "Dr. Guan… we… did we succeed?"
"The surgery is complete for now, but true safety depends on the patient's stability over the next three days." Outside the window, applause broke out. Guan Xing remained unmoved—perfection required patience.
He had seen minor operations go catastrophically wrong due to negligence, and he would not let that happen under his hands. Compared to his previous triple-heart surgeries, this operation was simpler in scale—no reason to boast.
Without lingering for praise, Guan Xing exited the OR. He discussed post-operative care with Director Zhang and left, giving even the enthusiastic elder no chance to tempt him with incentives.
Xi Hengsheng granted him a three-day break to focus on the patient. Du Juan's remarkable comprehension and ability to learn quickly had left a deep impression on everyone.
Because of the surgery's significance, the two Cancer Association elders stayed to observe. Daily, Director Zhang would provide concise updates and consult Guan Xing by phone.
Despite tempting offers of high positions and salaries, Guan Xing refused all overtures. While many physicians sought top-tier hospitals for advanced equipment, he preferred the simplest tools for the most challenging cases—handling eighty percent of high-risk patients without modern technology.
This was his pursuit of the Divine Medical Classic: mastering medicine without reliance on weapons or tools, following the natural path of healing. A human medical miracle few could hope to achieve.
For three days, Guan Xing meditated in his room, even ordering meals delivered. After every surgery, he reviewed each step meticulously, ensuring no errors remained. His success was never accidental: it was the product of unwavering diligence and rigor.
On the third day back in the city, he moved into a luxurious show apartment in a high-end residential area—a duplex priced over six million yuan, effectively five million after discounts. Fully furnished with top-grade appliances, the apartment was immediately ready for occupancy.
Guan Xing had returned. Five years gone, the city transformed, yet he had found his place.