Chapter 2115: Chapter 1781: The First Pile (Part 2)
"How was it?"
Zhang Lin came out first, the back of his surgical gown soaked through: "It worked, decompression and fixation of the upper cervical vertebrae, nerves haven’t deteriorated."
"Pelvis?"
Little Five followed out: "Also successful, anterior and posterior ring fixation, bleeding under control, blood pressure steady at 100/65."
Dean Chen was momentarily stunned.
He recalled the patients who had been transferred due to inadequate skills, the disappointed looks of their families, the gossip about the "City Hospital being incompetent," the lost reputation and trust. He remembered the countless sleepless nights, pondering when Orthopedics could stand tall and no longer be called "worthless."
Then he exhaled deeply. That breath held relief, excitement, and an indescribable hope.
"Good... good..." He repeated several "goods" before finding words, "You... created history. This kind of surgery was once unimaginable!"
Applause echoed in the hallway, not the formal, ceremonial kind, but heartfelt applause filled with admiration. The Director of Anesthesia, the Head Nurse of the Operating Room, were all there, looking at the two new Directors.
Wang Shunye came out of the Operating Room, feeling complex.
He had worked for over twenty years, smoothly advancing from a resident to a chief physician, never yielding to anyone. He was over ten years older than Zhang Lin, and when Zhang Lin first arrived, he felt indignant—a young man in his early thirties—what made him fit to be a Director? What skills did he have?
But during that surgery, he witnessed Zhang Lin placing a screw in the lateral mass of the atlas. The angle, the speed, the stability. He was assisting with instruments beside him, his palms sweaty not from fatigue, but from astonishment.
"Director Zhang," he began, his voice dry, "I admit defeat. That atlantoaxial screw, I watched from the side, my palms were sweaty. In over twenty years, it’s the first time I’ve seen such technique."
Zhang Lin extended his hand, long and strong, with calluses formed from years of gripping instruments: "From practice, let’s practice together in the future, I’ll teach you."
Wang Shunye looked at that hand and suddenly remembered his younger days, a time of pure passion for the craft. Back then, he too worked tirelessly, staying in the department until dawn to hone his skills. Later, worn down by professional titles, administration, and various trivial matters, he became "an old hand," became "Director Wang," forgetting why he first picked up the surgical knife.
He grasped that hand firmly, as if trying to hold onto something regained: "I’ll learn from you in the future."
Zhao Quan also gathered around, excitedly saying: "Director Lu! That sacroiliac screw, I couldn’t even blink watching from the side! How did you hone that touch?"
"Wasted hundreds of bones," Little Five laughed, his smile carrying bittersweet memories and the sweetness of accomplishment, "at Sanbo, practicing every night until my fingers cramped, Professor Yang scolded me for not sleeping. Starting tonight, shall I train you?"
"Train! Must train!" Zhao Quan exclaimed repeatedly, "I vow to make you my master!"
The news spread throughout the hospital like wildfire.
The two new directors in Orthopedics teamed up to tackle an ultra-difficult surgery, combining upper cervical and pelvic fractures, performing dual surgeries simultaneously, saving the patient and preserving the nerves.
In the afternoon, news came from the ICU: the patient had regained consciousness, could understand words, and showed improved muscle strength compared to before the surgery.
Spinal cord compression relieved, nerves on the mend. This meant the patient wouldn’t be paralyzed, wouldn’t become a "worthless person," but could stand again.
Zhang Lin and Little Five stood by the ICU bed, watching the life that had once teetered on the brink of death now calmly breathing. They said nothing, just stood side by side.
"It was worth it!" Little Five said.
"Yes!" Zhang Lin nodded, "It was worth it."
In the evening, Dean Chen arranged two tables at the cafeteria.
No flowers, no banners, no speeches from the leaders, just simple food and plenty of beer. But the atmosphere was more celebratory than any awards ceremony—gratitude for surviving adversity, the joy of recognition for technical prowess, and the strength of a team recombined into a united force.
Dean Chen raised his glass, his hand trembling slightly, the liquid swaying in the glass: "I toast you all! Today’s surgery gave me hope. Previously, we could only transfer such patients elsewhere, losing reputation with each transfer. Today, we kept them! We succeeded! This is the turning point for our City Hospital’s Orthopedics!"
Zhang Lin stood up, holding a teacup, as he was now a Director and needed to strictly discipline himself, he wouldn’t drink: "Dean, this is what we should do. Now that I’ve become a Director, I can’t be picky about patients. The difficult and dangerous cases are exactly what we should tackle. Today’s surgery wasn’t just my accomplishment—Director Lu, Director Wang, Director Zhao, colleagues from Anesthesia, Operating Room, ICU—without everyone’s cooperation, we wouldn’t have succeeded."
Little Five also stood up, his gaze sweeping over every face present: "Director Zhang is right. At Sanbo, Professor Yang often said that surgeons aren’t solo warriors; it’s team combat. Today’s surgery revealed the City Hospital team’s potential. Our equipment isn’t as good as Sanbo’s, but the spirit of the people isn’t lacking. More practice, more learning, more cooperation—and there’s nothing we can’t achieve."
Wang Shunye walked over with his glass of wine, the liquid gently swaying, reflecting his emotions: "Director Zhang, Director Lu, I’ve worked for over twenty years and today realized what ’higher mountains lie above.’ Previously, I was unconvinced, thinking you were young and got your positions through connections. But today’s surgery, I bow to you, completely convinced. From now on, I’ll follow your lead without questioning!"
Zhao Quan stepped forward, his face full of longing and resolve: "Director Lu, teach me about that sacroiliac screw, I vow to become your apprentice!"
Zhang Lin and Little Five exchanged a smile. This was their first genuine recognition at City Hospital, born from the surgery, from the test of life and death.
"Let’s practice together!" Zhang Lin said.
"Let’s improve together!" Little Five added.
As night deepened and the clamor faded, Zhang Lin and Little Five returned to the rooftop.
The City Hospital’s rooftop was lower than Sanbo’s, the view narrower, but the night breeze was just as refreshing. Each carried a can of beer, still warm, with a bitter taste, reminiscent of that night many years ago.
Back then, they were still residents, sneaking up to the rooftop after finishing the day’s last major surgery to drink beer.
"Were you nervous today?" Little Five asked, leaning on the railing, looking at the city’s distant lights.
"Nervous!" Zhang Lin admitted, taking a gulp of beer, "During the atlantoaxial decompression, my palms were sweaty. The feeling is completely different when doing this surgery at Sanbo versus here. At Sanbo, I felt secure, knowing the whole team was backing me, with Professor Yang as a safety net. Here, it was just the two of us, feeling isolated."
"But I saw your hand was steady," Little Five turned to look at Zhang Lin’s profile, "I watched from the side, thinking you weren’t nervous at all."
"Can’t shake," Zhang Lin took another sip, the warm liquid sliding down his throat with a bittersweet taste, "A shaky hand means the loss of a life. In those circumstances, nervousness is an emotion, steadiness is a responsibility—they’re two different things."
Little Five nodded, recalling the moment he placed the sacroiliac screw: "I was nervous too, with that sacroiliac screw, the C-arm here has low resolution and blurry images, relying entirely on touch, the needle tip traversing the bone, every millimeter felt like an unknown abyss. When it went in, my back was soaked."
"But we did it," Zhang Lin said, turning to look into Little Five’s eyes, "From today onward, people at City Hospital know we’re not just here fussing about, we really have skills."
"Wang Shunye is convinced, Zhao Quan is convinced too," Little Five said, "but this is just the beginning. One surgery doesn’t prove anything, to truly establish ourselves, it’s about accumulation, one surgery at a time, one patient at a time."
"I know," Zhang Lin gazed at the distant lights, which seemed like stars scattered on the ground, flickering on and off, "But today’s surgery is a stepping stone. Without this stone, the door won’t open. With it, the path ahead becomes easier."
He paused, rotating the beer can in his hand, emitting subtle sounds: "Actually, today the most astonishing thing wasn’t the surgery itself, but our collaboration. With you beside me, I felt grounded. That kind of tacit understanding isn’t honed in a day or two, it’s through years of staying up late together, being scolded, drinking beer on the rooftop, slowly building up."
Little Five remained silent for a moment, raising his beer can, the metal glinting faintly in the night: "To tacit understanding."
"To understanding," Zhang Lin clinked his can against Little Five’s, two beer cans clashing in the air with a muffled sound, "and to brotherhood."
This time, the sound carried more assurance, more calm, and more poise from having passed trials—they were Directors now, pillars, the future hope of City Hospital Orthopedics.
They walked slowly, but each step was solid. Today, on this unfamiliar land of City Hospital, they planted the first stake.
This stake is deep, stable.
Enough to support the future edifice.
"Starting today, I’m a Department Director too, right, Director Lu?"
"Yes, Director Zhang."
