798 Average Level (1/2)

Seen through a laparoscope, a liver was very beautiful. This was especially true when a person watched a hepatectomy through the screen. The liver was light pink, and it looked extremely lively. It looked like an inflamed gallbladder who was spreading its wings and protecting its egg.

However, when it came to open surgeries, the liver did not usually look beautiful.

Cirrhosis and blackish tissues were extremely common sights in open liver surgery. This was especially true when the incision made was small, as when a surgeon looked at the liver from above, he could only see a part of the liver. And this part would usually be covered in blood a few seconds into the surgery.

In short, laparoscopic liver surgeries could still somehow be considered elegant, but open liver surgeries usually had no aesthetic value at all.

If laparoscopic liver surgeries were likened to a football match, open liver surgeries would be similar to fights resulting from people staring at someone else for too long.

The gauzes would be full of blood clots, the retractors would be covered in blood, and there would be blood stains on the surgeons' gloves. Because of this, open liver surgeries could even be said to be a little gory.

Perhaps, the surgeon's determined eyes were the only bright spot in the operating theater.

Zhang Anmin stayed silent throughout the course of the surgery.

Even though he was under massive pressure, Zhang Anmin not only wanted to complete the surgery, but he also wanted to do it well and put on a beautiful performance.

Of course, Zhang Anmin had no intention to voice out his thoughts. He merely carried the burden on his shoulders all the while and stayed fully focused on the surgery.

An excellent surgeon was taking him by the hand and guiding him, and this excellent surgeon was even standing opposite him to serve as a backup. Moreover, a couple of dozen doctors were gathered in the visitation room and spending two hours of their time to watch him operate. Such an opportunity was hard to come by.

Truth be told, for some doctors, an opportunity to prove himself like this happened only once in a lifetime. And sometimes, they would fail to prove their worth.

”Hemostatic forceps.” Zhang Anmin suddenly spoke, and he was surprised by how hoarse his voice sounded.

Ling Ran raised his head to glance at Zhang Anmin. He then lowered his head to glance at the surgical field.

He did not really understand what was going on in Zhang Anmin's mind right now, but he had no intention of interfering with Zhang Anmin's maneuvers or even the impromptu decisions Zhang Anmin made during the surgery.

This was Zhang Anmin's time to shine. Ling Ran was well aware of this, so he did not impose his way of doing things on Zhang Anmin. Instead, he let Zhang Anmin do things his way.

Zhang Anmin glanced at Ling Ran a little diffidently. When he realized that Ling Ran had no intention of stopping him, he immediately felt relaxed.

For a short while, he deviated a little from the steps that they had decided on beforehand. It was not a huge deviation, and he only made some slight changes. Zhang Anmin felt that if he interrupted the blood flow earlier, it would make his maneuvers even smoother.

This was his first time acting as a chief surgeon in a hepatectomy, and Zhang Anmin knew that he was taking a risk by doing this.

Most senior doctors required the same thing from their subordinates— obedience.

Doctors who wanted to deviate from the rules must be capable enough to do so, or they would be cursed so horribly by senior doctors that their ears would start bleeding. In this world, most doctors were not extraordinarily talented.

In the field of medicine, idiotic people deserved to get scolded, and stupidity was a sin. As for doctors who experimented on patients even though they were not talented and ended up putting the patients' lives in danger, they were practically demons.

However, at that very moment, a moment that could be considered the most important moment in his life, Zhang Anmin the attending physician wanted to know if he was a mediocre doctor who could only be obedient all his life or...

Ling Ran did not stop Zhang Anmin.

Lu Wenbin, who was acting as first assistant, did not stop Zhang Anmin either.

The doctors in the visitation room, too, continued watching the surgery quietly.

The monitor let out a long beep as usual, and there was not the slightest change to the patient's vitals. This showed that the patient's body did not protest to Zhang Anmin's disobedience.

Zhang Anmin could not help but arch an eyebrow.

The surgery went on, and most of the people did not even notice the difference.

”Ultrasound knife.

”Aspirate.

”Gauze.”

Zhang Anmin was totally immersed in the surgery. He went about the surgery according to the steps that had been agreed upon beforehand—most of them, anyway—and things were going more and more smoothly.

All the information Zhang Anmin obtained during the preoperative consultation had been deeply ingrained in his mind, and Zhang Anmin had privately gone through the steps of the surgery countless times in his mind.

However, during the actual surgery, all the changes brought about by every single maneuver might very well affect the next step. Zhang Anmin had to make decisions continuously throughout the surgery. He could either change things up, continue as planned, or ask Ling Ran for help.