GREAT DOCTOR 14
56. An Emergency Surgery
The night was deep and dark, but the lights in the emergency department of Guanghua Hospital remained glaringly bright. The ambulance had just left, and the hurried footsteps at the emergency entrance still lingered. Several nurses pushed emergency stretchers rapidly down the corridor, the wheels rolling urgently across the floor. The air was filled with the mixed smells of disinfectant and medication, along with the sound of tense breathing.
Yang Wen-Hua rode a motorcycle with Guo Xin-Mei to the hospital. As soon as they parked, they both jumped off almost at the same time and hurried toward the emergency department. Guo Xin-Mei jogged behind Yang Wen-Hua, the relaxed expression she had worn at the birthday gathering already gone. She knew that from the moment they stepped into the emergency department, they were no longer friends celebrating a birthday in the common room. They were now a medical team that had to race against death itself. The two quickly changed into their white coats and, without even having time to fix their hair, went directly into the emergency room.
Inside the emergency room, a young man in his twenties lay on the emergency bed. His clothes had already been cut open, and his chest and abdomen were covered with blood from the traffic accident. The monitor kept emitting a steady warning sound, but that sound was gradually becoming more alarming. The injured man’s eyes were half open, his pupils unfocused, and his breathing weak and rapid.
The doctor on duty hurried over and reported to Yang Wen-Hua with a grave expression. “Dr. Yang, the injured man was brought in after a traffic accident. Our initial assessment suggests that he may have severe internal bleeding. His consciousness is becoming increasingly impaired, and his blood pressure is also dropping.”
The doctor on duty paused, his voice carrying a hint of concern. “If you’re not confident, it would be better to transfer him immediately to the nearby Christian College Hospital.”
Yang Wen-Hua did not answer. He walked to the emergency bed and bent down to examine the patient. His fingers gently touched the pulse on the side of the man’s neck, then he quickly looked at the readings on the monitor. His heart rate was dropping, and his blood pressure was even weaker than before. Yang Wen-Hua’s brows drew tightly together. He knew very well that the most dangerous thing now was not the surgery itself, but time. If they put the patient into an ambulance and transferred him to another hospital, another episode of massive blood loss during the journey could cause him to collapse before they even arrived.
He raised his head and looked firmly at the doctor on duty. “We can’t transfer him.”
The doctor on duty froze for a moment. “We can’t transfer him?”
“His condition doesn’t allow us to waste any more time.” Yang Wen-Hua’s voice was calm, without the slightest hesitation. “This is very likely massive bleeding caused by ruptured abdominal organs. The only thing we can do now is race against time.” He turned to the nurses. “Start a blood transfusion. Prepare emergency blood, and notify the operating room. Get the surgery ready immediately.”
“Yes!” The nurse immediately turned around.
Yang Wen-Hua lowered his head and checked the patient again. “Prepare to move him to the operating room.”
Three nurses quickly connected the blood bag to the IV tubing. Bright red blood slowly flowed through the line and into the patient’s body. The emergency bed was immediately pushed forward, and the nurses checked the IV tubing and monitoring equipment as they moved to make sure nothing had become disconnected.
Yang Wen-Hua and Guo Xin-Mei followed closely behind. The lights along the corridor passed overhead one by one. Although Guo Xin-Mei’s footsteps were hurried, her mind was exceptionally clear. She knew this time was different from when she had been learning in the past. The young man before her was lying on the edge between life and death, and everything she had learned had to truly be put to use in the surgery that followed.
The operating-room doors quickly opened. A group of medical personnel immediately took their positions. The surgical lights above the operating table came on, and the intense white light instantly illuminated the entire surgical area. The anesthesiologist quickly began administering anesthesia, while the numbers on the monitor continued to fluctuate.
Yang Wen-Hua put on his surgical cap and mask, and his entire demeanor changed in an instant. The man who had just been joking and accepting birthday gifts in the dormitory common room had completely disappeared. In his place was a calm and focused surgeon whose eyes were as sharp as blades. He picked up the ultrasound probe and quickly examined the patient’s chest and abdomen. The images on the screen constantly changed as the probe moved. Yang Wen-Hua’s eyes remained fixed on the screen, while his hands moved with remarkable steadiness. He examined the chest first, then turned to the abdomen.
Once.
Twice.
He checked the images again. Suddenly, his gaze stopped.
“Found it.”
Guo Xin-Mei immediately looked up. “Found what?”
“Both the liver and spleen are ruptured.” Yang Wen-Hua’s voice was calm and clear. “The estimated blood loss has already exceeded two thousand milliliters.” His eyes became even more focused. “We’ve found both bleeding points.”
Just then, the operating-room doors were pushed open again. Su Junsheng hurried in.
“Senior!”
Yang Wen-Hua did not turn around. He simply raised a hand in acknowledgment.
“Junsheng, get into position.”
“Okay, Senior.” Su Junsheng quickly moved to his surgical position.
Yang Wen-Hua pointed to the ultrasound screen. “Look here.”
Su Junsheng bent down and looked at the screen.
“There’s a bleeding point in both the liver and the spleen,” Yang Wen-Hua said. “I’ll handle the liver. You’re responsible for repairing the spleen. From now on, keep a close eye on the blood loss and vital signs.”
Su Junsheng nodded solemnly. “Understood.”
Yang Wen-Hua immediately turned to Guo Xin-Mei. “Xin-Mei, the scalpel and hemostatic forceps.”
Guo Xin-Mei immediately handed him the instruments. “Here.”
Yang Wen-Hua took them, his eyes never leaving the surgical area. He selected a position below the patient’s right ribs and made an approximately three-centimeter incision with precise, efficient movements. Although the incision was small, he showed no hesitation. He immediately inserted the hemostatic instrument and accurately located the source of the bleeding.
Guo Xin-Mei held her breath as she watched every movement Yang Wen-Hua made. She had originally thought that the most important thing in minimally invasive surgery was the equipment. But only after actually standing beside the operating table did she understand that equipment was merely an aid. What truly determined the success or failure of an operation was still the doctor’s judgment, sense of touch, and technical skill.
“Xin-Mei, the catheter.”
“Here.” Guo Xin-Mei immediately handed him the catheter. Looking at the tiny incision, she finally could not help asking, “Wen-Hua, is such a small incision really enough?”
Yang Wen-Hua did not look up. His hands continued to move steadily.
“As long as we locate the bleeding point precisely, three centimeters is enough.” He paused slightly before continuing, “And the patient doesn’t have a thick layer of body fat, so there’s enough room to work.”
Guo Xin-Mei nodded and said nothing more.
On the other side, Su Junsheng had also begun treating the bleeding in the spleen. Following Yang Wen-Hua’s instructions, he made a smaller incision above the patient’s left abdomen and immediately inserted the hemostatic instrument.
“Found it.” Su Junsheng’s voice came through. “The bleeding point is under control.”
Yang Wen-Hua did not turn around. He simply answered briefly, “Good. Keep it that way.”
The coordination between the two gradually became seamless. One handled the liver, the other handled the spleen. Each kept his eyes on his own area while closely monitoring the patient’s overall vital signs.
“Xin-Mei, hemostatic gauze.”
“Here.” Guo Xin-Mei handed the instrument to Yang Wen-Hua.
Yang Wen-Hua took it, leaned slightly forward until his face was almost close to the surgical area, and put on magnifying loupes. Under the magnified field of view, the tiny blood vessels and tissue structures became much clearer.
Guo Xin-Mei stood beside him, watching without blinking. Suddenly, she understood what Yang Wen-Hua meant by “minimally invasive.” It did not make surgery simple. Instead, it required the doctor to perform even more precise work within a smaller operating area.
She thought silently, “Is this what microsurgery is?” Her gaze fell on Yang Wen-Hua’s steady hands. “It’s not just about having good eyesight. The technique of the hands has to be precise as well. Even the slightest deviation could lead to a completely different result.”
There were no unnecessary sounds in the operating room. Everyone’s attention was focused on the patient. Time passed second by second. Finally, the patient’s vital signs on the monitor gradually stabilized.
Yang Wen-Hua raised his head and glanced at the monitor.
“The bleeding is under control.”
Su Junsheng also breathed a sigh of relief. “Vital signs are stable.”
Yang Wen-Hua nodded. “Start closing.”
Guo Xin-Mei immediately took over the suturing. She lowered her head and concentrated, stitching the wound closed one stitch at a time. Although fine beads of sweat had already appeared on her forehead, her hands did not tremble in the slightest. After completing the final stitch, she raised her head, a smile finally appearing on her face. She raised her hand and made an “OK” gesture.
“Mission accomplished.”
The tense atmosphere in the operating room finally relaxed.
Yang Wen-Hua and Su Junsheng exchanged a glance. Neither said a word, but they both understood that in this battle between life and death, they had won.
Not long afterward, the three of them walked out of the operating room together. The lights in the corridor were much softer than those in the operating room.
Guo Xin-Mei removed her mask and let out a long breath. Her tightly tense shoulders finally relaxed. She looked at Yang Wen-Hua, her eyes full of admiration.
“That was amazing!” she said with a smile she could not hold back. “You treated such severe internal bleeding in just a little over an hour.”
Su Junsheng also removed his mask and replied with a smile, “When you encounter this kind of acute internal bleeding, you have to be fast, decisive, and precise.”
Yang Wen-Hua, however, did not take all the credit for himself. He leaned against the wall, reached up, and removed his surgical cap. In a calm voice, he said, “With the assistance of 3D ultrasound, we can quickly determine where the bleeding is inside the patient, locate the rupture and the bleeding points, and naturally shorten the operating time.”
Guo Xin-Mei looked at him. “But you still have to be bold and careful, right?”
Yang Wen-Hua first deliberately put on a thoughtful expression. Then he suddenly raised one hand and struck a pose like a product spokesperson in a television commercial, wearing a rare playful smile.
“Trust me!”
He paused, then made a confident gesture with his other hand.
“You can make it!”
Guo Xin-Mei was stunned for a moment, then could not help laughing.
Su Junsheng was also amused by his sudden comic performance and burst out laughing.
“Senior, if a patient saw you like this, no one would believe you were the doctor who was as calm as a machine in the operating room just now!”
Yang Wen-Hua laughed as well.
As Guo Xin-Mei looked at the man before her, a strange feeling quietly swept through her heart. Not long ago, the three of them had still been sitting in the dormitory common room celebrating his birthday. The candles on the cake had not even been blown out when he had to leave because of an emergency call. And now, the birthday night was not yet over, but he had already snatched a young life back from the hands of death in the operating room.
Guo Xin-Mei looked at the smile on Yang Wen-Hua’s face and suddenly felt that what was most attractive about this man had perhaps never been how brilliant his medical skills were. It was that although he possessed abilities powerful enough to change his own life, he was always willing to use those abilities for the lives of others.
She lowered her head and looked at the heart-shaped necklace she had given him. A thought quietly emerged in her heart.
“Maybe I really did give that birthday blessing to the right person.”
At the end of the corridor, the lights in the emergency department remained bright, and new patients were still being wheeled in. Yang Wen-Hua put away his smile and turned to look toward the emergency area.
He knew the night was not over yet.
And for him, a night like this might have been the most ordinary kind of birthday.
57. An Unforgettable Birthday
Around midnight, two motorcycles rode one after the other back to the doctors’ dormitory at Guanghua Hospital. The night was already deep. Most of the lights throughout the hospital grounds had been turned off, leaving only a few lonely streetlights illuminating the wide roads. In the distance, insects occasionally chirped. The night breeze swept through the treetops, making a rustling sound that stood in sharp contrast to the occasional sound of ambulances coming from the hospital’s emergency department.
After the three of them parked their motorcycles, none of them spoke immediately. The night had simply been too long. What had originally been a simple birthday gathering for Yang Wen-Hua had been interrupted by an unexpected traffic accident. The three of them had rushed from the common room to the emergency department, then into the operating room to race against death. Only after the injured man’s vital signs had stabilized did they truly breathe a sigh of relief.
Guo Xin-Mei removed her helmet and brushed her windblown hair behind her ear. She could not help stretching.
“My God, this day has really been long.”
Su Junsheng also yawned. “For doctors, what day isn’t like this?”
Yang Wen-Hua simply smiled faintly. “Come on. My birthday isn’t over yet.”
Hearing this, Guo Xin-Mei immediately looked up at him.
“Oh, right!” Some energy suddenly returned to her tired face. “We haven’t eaten the cake yet!”
The three exchanged smiles and walked into the dormitory common room together. The room was still exactly as they had left it. The uneaten cake was still on the table, but the candles had long since gone out, and the champagne and other drinks sat quietly beside it.
Su Junsheng walked over to the refrigerator and opened the door. The cold light inside reflected on his slightly tired face. He took out a six-pack of cold beer and placed it on the long table.
Guo Xin-Mei followed him over, took out the remaining drinks and tableware, and then placed the candles back into the cake.
She picked up a lighter and lit the candles one by one. The soft candlelight glowed again, illuminating three tired but smiling faces.
Guo Xin-Mei stepped back and looked at Yang Wen-Hua.
“Big Brother, you’re not allowed to be called away by the emergency department again this time.”
Yang Wen-Hua could not help laughing. “Okay.”
“Then hurry up and make a wish.”
Yang Wen-Hua sat down at the table. He looked at the flickering candle flames, and the smile on his face gradually became quiet. On this day, he had received two gifts and experienced a heart-stopping emergency surgery. More importantly, in this unfamiliar place, there were actually people who remembered his birthday.
He suddenly felt that it had been a very long time since he had seriously made a wish for himself. He slowly closed his eyes, pressed his hands together, and lowered his head.
Guo Xin-Mei and Su Junsheng also fell silent. The two stood quietly nearby, watching Yang Wen-Hua make his wish in the candlelight. No one knew what he had wished for.
Guo Xin-Mei looked at his profile and could not help wondering, “I wonder what he wished for?”
She had originally wanted to ask, but when she saw the serious expression on Yang Wen-Hua’s face with his eyes closed, she ultimately swallowed the question.
A moment later, Yang Wen-Hua opened his eyes. He took a deep breath, leaned forward slightly, and blew at the candles in one breath.
The flames instantly went out.
“Happy birthday, Big Brother!”
“Happy birthday, Senior!”
The two voices sounded at the same time. Yang Wen-Hua smiled and nodded at them.
“Thank you.”
He picked up the cake knife, carefully cut the cake into three pieces, and placed one piece on each of their plates. Su Junsheng suddenly seemed to remember something and turned around to pick up the champagne from beside the table.
“Senior, cake alone isn’t enough. We still have champagne!”
“You two really thought of everything.” Yang Wen-Hua smiled as he took the bottle. He twisted off the cap with a soft pop, then poured the champagne into three glasses. The pale golden liquid gently swayed in the glasses, while tiny bubbles continuously rose to the surface.
The three of them sat around the square table. The hospital that had been so tense and suffocating just moments earlier seemed temporarily cut off from them.
Guo Xin-Mei used a small fork to cut off a bite of cake and slowly put it into her mouth. After chewing a few bites, she raised her head and looked at Yang Wen-Hua and Su Junsheng across from her.
“Big Brother, Junsheng, I think I’m gradually beginning to understand this kind of life you two lead, always being on call.” She glanced at her hands, then raised her head again. “But honestly, it’s really exhausting.” There was no complaint in her voice, but rather the genuine feeling that could only come from actually entering this environment.
In just one short evening, she had gone directly from a birthday gathering to the emergency room and then into the operating room. A life in which you could be called away at any moment by a single phone call made her realize for the first time that practicing medicine in an underserved area was completely different from the life of a doctor she had imagined in the past.
Yang Wen-Hua took a sip of champagne and gently placed the glass back on the table.
“We’re short-staffed here, so one person often has to do the work of two.” He spoke very calmly, as if this kind of life had long since become a habit. “As long as a patient needs help, someone has to step up.”
Guo Xin-Mei looked at him. She suddenly realized that when Yang Wen-Hua said these things, there was no sense of grievance on his face, nor the slightest hint of showing off. It was as though he were simply stating something that was only natural.
Su Junsheng smiled and joined in. “The more capable you are, the more work you have to do.” He picked up his glass and took a sip, deliberately putting on an expression of helplessness. “But capable people can also easily work themselves to exhaustion. That’s just how it is for medical workers in small cities.”
Guo Xin-Mei could not help smiling. “The way you say it, you sound like you’ve already accepted your fate.”
“What else can we do?” Su Junsheng shrugged. “We can’t exactly tell a patient who comes in, ‘The doctor is too tired today. Come back tomorrow,’ can we?”
Yang Wen-Hua also laughed. “That’s true.”
The three clinked their glasses again.
“Cheers.”
The glasses lightly touched with a crisp sound. Guo Xin-Mei lowered her head and took another bite of cake, and only then suddenly remembered the work scheduled for the next day.
Yang Wen-Hua glanced at his watch and gently reminded the two of them, “You two need to get some rest early tonight.”
Guo Xin-Mei looked up. “Why?”
“At ten tomorrow morning, we have another breast tumor removal surgery.” Yang Wen-Hua looked at her, a faint smile at the corners of his mouth. “And you’ll be the primary surgeon tomorrow.”
The fork in Guo Xin-Mei’s hand paused for a moment. “I know.” She deliberately drew out her words, but there was no fear on her face. Instead, there was an eager anticipation. “But right now, I just want to relax a little.”
Yang Wen-Hua looked at her, a hint of amusement appearing in his eyes.
“The more capable you are, the more work you have to do.”
He pointed to the cake on the table.
“Xin-Mei, leave that half plate of cake to you for a little relaxation.”
Guo Xin-Mei immediately widened her eyes. “No way!” She quickly pushed the plate of cake aside and said with a completely serious expression, “That half plate of cake has at least three thousand calories. If I eat all of it, tomorrow I might lose my qualification to be the primary surgeon because of obesity before I even enter the operating room.”
Su Junsheng was stunned for a moment, then could not help bursting into laughter.
Yang Wen-Hua also looked at her completely serious expression, and the corners of his mouth slowly lifted.
“You’re exaggerating.”
“A doctor needs self-discipline,” Guo Xin-Mei said with great seriousness, deliberately patting her stomach. “Especially a surgeon. We need to keep our movements flexible.”
Su Junsheng laughed so hard that his shoulders trembled slightly. “Xin-Mei, are you just making excuses for not eating the cake?”
Guo Xin-Mei deliberately put on a stern expression. “There’s medical evidence behind it.”
Yang Wen-Hua looked at her and finally could not help laughing as well.
The tension in the operating room just moments ago, the chaos in the emergency department, and that life-and-death struggle against time all seemed to fade temporarily at that moment. The three sat around the long table in the dormitory common room. Only half of the cake remained on the table, and tiny bubbles still floated in the champagne glasses.
Outside the window was the deep night of Taitung, while inside was the warmth of rare laughter. Yang Wen-Hua looked at the two young colleagues before him and suddenly felt a sense of contentment. He had originally thought that after coming to Taitung, his life would consist only of patients, surgeries, and on-call shifts. He had never expected that in this remote small city, he could also have such a sincere and uncomplicated friendship.
Across from him, Guo Xin-Mei also quietly glanced at him amid the laughter. What she did not say was that after celebrating his birthday tonight, she had come to understand another side of this man. He was not merely a highly skilled physician, but also a compassionate doctor willing to entrust his life to his patients. And without realizing it, she seemed to be becoming more and more accustomed to having him by her side.
The night outside grew deeper and deeper, while the candlelight inside the common room remained warm. This birthday night, interrupted by an emergency and then resumed, finally and slowly drew to a close amid the laughter of the three of them.
58. Minimally Invasive Surgery
Early in the morning, inside the surgical operating room at Guanghua Hospital, the cold white surgical lights illuminated every detail of the entire operating room. The distinctive smell of disinfectant filled the air. The ECG on the monitor beat steadily, accompanied by the faint sounds of the medical equipment, creating a rhythm that made it impossible for anyone to let down their guard.
Wang Meixue was already under anesthesia, lying quietly beneath the surgical lights. Two nurses stood on either side of the operating table, ready to pass instruments at any moment. Su Junsheng stood beside Guo Xin-Mei, keeping an eye on the patient’s heart rate, blood pressure, and other vital signs on the monitor while rapidly passing instruments according to the progress of the surgery. His expression was focused. From time to time, he glanced at the screen and then at Guo Xin-Mei’s hand movements. His entire body was like a tightly stretched string.
Guo Xin-Mei wore a surgical cap and mask, revealing only a pair of focused eyes. The relaxed atmosphere left over from the birthday gathering the previous night had long since disappeared. There was not the slightest hesitation in her now. All her attention was concentrated on the 3D ultrasound imaging screen before her.
Yang Wen-Hua stood beside the operating table, his eyes equally fixed on the screen. He did not operate directly. Instead, through a headset microphone, he guided Guo Xin-Mei through the surgery in a calm and clear voice. To him, today was not merely about removing the tumor from the patient. More importantly, it was about allowing Guo Xin-Mei to truly master this minimally invasive surgical technique.
“Xin-Mei, insert the imaging catheter first. Don’t approach at too steep an angle. Move slowly toward the tumor.”
Guo Xin-Mei took a gentle breath. Her hands steadily controlled the instruments as she followed Yang Wen-Hua’s instructions and slowly inserted the imaging catheter through the small incision.
“I see it.” She stared at the screen, her voice low, while her eyes gradually became sharper. As the catheter advanced deeper, the 3D image gradually became clearer, and the outline of the tumor appeared on the screen.
Yang Wen-Hua leaned forward slightly and carefully observed the image. Only after confirming the location did he say, “Good. This is it. Once you locate the tumor, deal with the blood vessels around it first. Cut them one by one. Don’t rush.”
“Got it.” Guo Xin-Mei nodded once and slightly adjusted the angle of the instrument. She knew that although this step looked simple, it actually tested a surgeon’s patience and precision the most. If the instrument deviated even slightly, it could damage the surrounding healthy tissue. Although there was no sweat on her forehead, the hand holding the instrument was even more focused than usual.
Yang Wen-Hua did not rush her. He simply continued reminding her through the headset.
“Good. Keep that angle. A little farther to the left... Yes, right there.”
Guo Xin-Mei adjusted the direction according to his instructions and finally dealt with the blood vessels surrounding the tumor one by one.
“Is that enough?”
“Yes.” Yang Wen-Hua’s voice remained steady. “Now use the forceps to remove the tumor, while the catheter drains out the blood and tissue fluid.”
“Okay.” Guo Xin-Mei reached for the forceps and carefully moved them toward the tumor. After confirming its position through the 3D ultrasound image, she slowly tightened the tips of the forceps. At that moment, she even unconsciously held her breath.
“I’ve got it,” she said softly.
She gently drew her wrist backward, and a complete piece of tumor tissue gradually separated from its original position as the forceps moved. The catheter on the other side immediately began draining, and blood and tissue fluid flowed out through the tubing.
Su Junsheng lowered his head to check the instrument readings. Seeing that the patient’s vital signs remained stable, he finally relaxed slightly.
“The patient’s blood pressure is stable, and her heart rate is normal.”
Yang Wen-Hua nodded, his eyes still fixed on the screen.
“Good. Next, treat the tumor cavity.”
Guo Xin-Mei raised her eyes and looked at the screen, waiting for the next instruction.
“Use the miniature electrosurgical knife to carefully cauterize the remaining blood vessels and tissue inside the tumor cavity. Keep the treatment area under control.”
“Okay.” Guo Xin-Mei switched to the miniature electrosurgical knife and skillfully manipulated the instrument with her fingers. The image on the screen constantly changed with her movements. She had to judge the location while controlling the depth and direction of the electrosurgical knife. The operating room was so quiet that only the sound of the equipment and the regular beeps of the monitor could be heard.
At that moment, Guo Xin-Mei suddenly felt a level of concentration she had never experienced before. She remembered what Yang Wen-Hua had told her earlier: a true surgeon does not merely cut out a disease. More importantly, while removing the disease, the surgeon must preserve as much of the patient’s original bodily function and appearance as possible.
In the past, she had merely understood the words. Now, standing in front of the operating table, she was gradually beginning to understand their true weight.
She carefully completed the cauterization. Only after confirming that the blood vessels and tissue inside the cavity had been properly treated did she raise her head.
“Dr. Yang, it’s done.”
Yang Wen-Hua carefully examined the 3D image. After confirming that there were no abnormalities, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.
“Good. Now fill it with the patient’s own fat tissue.”
The nurse immediately handed the prepared syringe to Guo Xin-Mei. She took the syringe and once again looked at the surgical site. She knew that the purpose of this step was not merely to fill the space left after the tumor was removed, but also to preserve the patient’s original appearance as much as possible while completing the treatment.
Following Yang Wen-Hua’s instructions, she slowly injected the patient’s own fat tissue into the tumor cavity.
“Take it slowly,” Yang Wen-Hua reminded her. “Don’t inject it too quickly all at once. Let the fat tissue distribute evenly.”
“Understood.”
Guo Xin-Mei’s movements became even more delicate. She controlled the syringe and gradually completed the filling, one small amount at a time. Only after confirming that the shape of the cavity had recovered to a fairly natural appearance did she hand the instrument to the nurse.
Yang Wen-Hua looked at the screen, then at the surgical site.
“Good. Final closure.”
Guo Xin-Mei picked up the suture needle and lowered her head, her expression even calmer than before. Her fingers steadily completed the final sutures, controlling each stitch with great precision and keeping the incision as smooth as possible.
A few minutes later, she put down the suture needle and gently raised her head.
“Done.”
Su Junsheng glanced at the monitor. After confirming that all of the patient’s vital signs were stable, a relaxed smile appeared on his face.
“The surgery went smoothly.”
Yang Wen-Hua did not answer immediately. He once again checked the 3D ultrasound images, confirming that the tumor had been completely removed and that there were no obvious abnormalities in the surrounding tissue. Only then did he nod slightly.
“Good.”
Guo Xin-Mei let out a long breath. The shoulders that had been tense throughout the procedure finally began to relax. She raised her right hand and gave Yang Wen-Hua and Su Junsheng an “OK” sign, her eyes filled with excitement and confidence after completing the surgery.
Yang Wen-Hua looked at her, a trace of satisfaction appearing in his eyes.
“How does it feel to complete a minimally invasive surgery like this independently for the first time?”
Guo Xin-Mei looked at him, a hint of thoughtfulness flashing through her eyes before she smiled.
“Now I truly understand that minimally invasive surgery isn’t just about making the incision smaller.” She lowered her head and looked at the surgical site she had just completed, then raised her head toward the 3D ultrasound screen. Her eyes held a firmness that had not been there before. “It means treating the disease while preserving as much of the patient’s original body as possible, and also preserving her confidence in herself.”
After hearing this, Yang Wen-Hua did not say much. He simply nodded gently.
Guo Xin-Mei’s gaze remained on the operating table, but another thought quietly surfaced in her mind. She suddenly realized that her previous understanding of surgery seemed to have remained at the level of “curing the disease,” while Yang Wen-Hua was leading her to see something farther ahead.
She looked at the sophisticated minimally invasive instruments before her and, for the first time, clearly felt a powerful sense of mission.
Minimally invasive surgery might truly become the mainstream treatment of the future in aesthetic medicine.
And Yang Wen-Hua, standing before her, was no longer merely her senior physician. He was more like a door that was slowly opening, allowing her to see a medical world completely different from the one she had known before.
59. Thoughts Beneath the Stars
It was already late at night. The courtyard of the doctors’ dormitory at Guanghua Hospital was shrouded in a tranquil darkness. The tense and busy footsteps from the hospital during the day had long since faded away. Only the occasional sound of cars could be heard in the distance, along with the rustling of leaves stirred by the night breeze. A few dim courtyard lights quietly illuminated the grass and stone-paved path, blending with the endless starry sky overhead to form a quiet and profound scene.
Yang Wen-Hua lay alone on a lounge chair in the courtyard, his body leaning slightly against the backrest. One hand rested behind his head, while the other naturally lay on the armrest. He had just finished a day of work and was still wearing simple, casual clothes suitable for a doctor. The stern expression he had worn in the operating room during the day was gone, replaced by a rare sense of leisure.
He looked up at the night sky, his gaze passing through layer upon layer of starlight, as if he were thinking about something very far away. At that moment, the faint sound of footsteps came from behind him.
Guo Xin-Mei, dressed in comfortable home clothes, slowly walked into the courtyard. She had originally come outside simply to get some fresh air, but from a distance she saw Yang Wen-Hua lying there alone. She stopped for a moment and looked at his quiet figure, suddenly feeling something she could not put into words.
During the day, Yang Wen-Hua was a trusted surgeon at the hospital. Standing at the operating table, he was always so calm that he seemed almost without a flaw. But at this moment, in this courtyard without patients, surgical instruments, or the noise of the hospital, he looked like an ordinary man having a conversation with his own heart.
Guo Xin-Mei quietly walked closer and sat down on another lounge chair beside him. She did not speak immediately. She simply turned her face toward him and looked at him. After a while, a faint smile appeared at the corners of her mouth, and she deliberately asked in a relaxed tone, “Thinking about something, Big Brother?”
Yang Wen-Hua turned his head and glanced at her, then smiled as well. He did not answer. Instead, he turned his gaze back to the night sky. After a while, he raised his hand and pointed toward the deep blue canopy overhead.
“Xin-Mei, look at those stars.”
Guo Xin-Mei followed his finger and looked up.
“A lot of the starlight we see in the night sky was actually emitted hundreds or even thousands of years ago. Perhaps the light from one of the stars we see now actually set out a long time ago. It just traveled across such a vast stretch of time that it has only reached our eyes today.”
Guo Xin-Mei quietly gazed at the stars, and her eyes gradually softened.
“Yes,” she said softly. “How short a human life is.”
After saying this, she lowered her head and gently folded her hands over her knees. She suddenly thought about how she had graduated from medical school, entered the hospital, and then finally stood at the operating table today. It all seemed to have happened in the blink of an eye.
Hearing this, Yang Wen-Hua’s lips curved slightly, but his voice carried the calm of someone who had seen through the passage of time.
“But I think a few decades are actually enough for us to accomplish many dreams, and enough for us to do some of the things we truly want to do.”
Guo Xin-Mei turned to him. “Really?”
“Of course.” Yang Wen-Hua nodded gently. “Life isn’t about how many years we live. It’s about what we actually do during those years.”
Guo Xin-Mei looked at his profile, and her heart suddenly stirred. She knew that Yang Wen-Hua was different from the other doctors at the hospital.
Many doctors devoted themselves to advancing their medical skills because they hoped to move to larger hospitals, obtain higher positions, and establish their reputations. But Yang Wen-Hua clearly possessed skills far beyond those of an ordinary surgeon, yet he had never shown any desire for fame or wealth.
She was silent for a moment before finally asking, “Big Brother, with surgical skills as advanced as yours, do you really not want to develop your career in a big city like Shanghai? If you made full use of your expertise in aesthetic medicine, I’m sure many hospitals would compete to hire you.”
She paused, and a hint of expectation appeared in her eyes.
“In a place like that, you should be able to have a much bigger stage.”
Yang Wen-Hua did not answer immediately. He continued looking at the stars. After a moment of silence, he slowly said, “Fame and wealth have never been the reason I studied medicine.”
Guo Xin-Mei looked at him.
“What I really want to do is go to those poor and remote places where medical care is needed most and provide more comprehensive medical services to people who are struggling.” His voice was not loud, but it carried a steady strength. “If I can save one more person, help one more family avoid losing a loved one, or extend the life of someone who otherwise would not have had a chance to receive treatment, then I feel that my medical skills have found their true value.”
He turned slightly toward Guo Xin-Mei. There was no trace of showing off in his eyes, only a calmness that came from the heart.
“For me, that gives me more of a sense of achievement and belonging than taking stacks of cash out of wealthy people’s pockets.”
Guo Xin-Mei stared at him. At that moment, it was as if something gently struck her heart.
She had known before that Yang Wen-Hua was a good doctor, but it was not until tonight that she truly understood why he was willing to stay in Taitung and why he was willing to devote his time and medical skills to people in remote areas.
It was not that he lacked the ability to move higher. Rather, he had never based the value of his life on those things in the first place.
Guo Xin-Mei suddenly laughed, admiration in her eyes.
“Big Brother, if you had been born in ancient times, I think you would definitely have been a wandering swordsman.”
Yang Wen-Hua froze for a moment, then could not help laughing.
Guo Xin-Mei also said with a smile, “Traveling the world with a sword at your side, going wherever people are suffering and rushing there to save them. Your ability to be content with a simple life, while always putting others before yourself, is truly admirable.”
Yang Wen-Hua shook his head, his smile somewhat bashful.
“I’m not that great.”
He leaned back into the lounge chair again, folded his hands across his chest, and turned his gaze toward the stars once more.
“I’m just doing what I want to do.”
Guo Xin-Mei looked at him and did not respond. Yet her heart could no longer remain as calm as her expression.
Today, she had completed surgery under his guidance. And last night, during the birthday gathering, she had watched him smile and watched him rush into the operating room without hesitation when an emergency patient arrived.
Those images had accumulated little by little in her heart, making her increasingly certain that her feelings for this man were no longer simple admiration and respect.
She liked him.
And she seemed to be falling for him more and more deeply.
Guo Xin-Mei secretly took a breath, her fingers gently rubbing her knee. Several times she wanted to speak, but each time she swallowed the words back.
She knew that the question she was about to ask might change the natural relationship between them. But if she did not ask, she would not be satisfied.
Finally, she gathered her courage and turned to face Yang Wen-Hua.
“Big Brother...”
Yang Wen-Hua turned to her. “Hmm?”
Guo Xin-Mei bit her lip and tried to make her voice sound as natural as possible.
“If...” She paused, her fingers unconsciously tightening around the edge of her clothing. “If a girl took the initiative and confessed her feelings to you, what would you do?”
The moment the words left her mouth, her heart suddenly began beating faster. She did not dare look directly at Yang Wen-Hua, so she raised her head and looked at the stars again, pretending that she had merely asked casually.
But her ears had already grown slightly warm.
Yang Wen-Hua seemed to recognize the probing behind her question, but he did not expose her. He simply looked at her quietly for several seconds, a gentle smile slowly appearing at the corners of his mouth.
“I can only say... I’m sorry.”
Guo Xin-Mei’s heart sank slightly.
Yang Wen-Hua’s gaze returned to the night sky, his voice still calm.
“Because there’s already someone in my heart.”
Guo Xin-Mei’s smile froze for a moment. She had still been holding on to a little hope, but after hearing those words, that hope seemed to be quietly scattered by the night wind.
She forced herself to remain calm and asked as if nothing had happened, “Is it... your first love?”
Yang Wen-Hua was silent for a moment before gently nodding.
“Yeah.”
Guo Xin-Mei lowered her eyes. The smile on her face had already faded considerably.
Yang Wen-Hua gazed into the distance, as though falling into a distant memory.
“She and I... already made a promise.”
The sentence was simple, yet it caused an indescribable ache to rise in Guo Xin-Mei’s heart.
She had originally thought that if she had enough courage, perhaps she could make him notice her. But only now did she understand that there was already a place reserved in Yang Wen-Hua’s heart, and that place seemed to be one that no one could replace.
Yet she still could not give up.
After a while, she raised her head and cautiously asked, “Then... what about Lin Xiuling?”
Yang Wen-Hua was slightly startled.
Guo Xin-Mei’s gaze fell on his face, her tone carrying a hint of probing.
“I know she likes you.”
As she said this, she herself felt conflicted. She clearly did not want Lin Xiuling to win his affection, yet she could not help wanting to know how he truly viewed that equally accomplished woman.
Yang Wen-Hua was silent for a moment before gently sighing.
“Xiuling is a good girl.”
Guo Xin-Mei said nothing, simply waiting quietly for his next words.
Yang Wen-Hua’s expression became serious.
“But I can’t give her a beautiful mistake.”
Guo Xin-Mei was stunned.
The words sounded gentle, yet they were also cruel. Looking at Yang Wen-Hua’s profile, she suddenly understood that his attitude toward love was just like his attitude toward surgery. He would rather face the most difficult wound to treat than deceive someone with false hope.
But understanding something was one thing. Whether her heart could accept it was another.
The night breeze slowly passed between them, stirring the strands of hair across Guo Xin-Mei’s forehead. She raised her hand and gently brushed her hair behind her ear, trying to conceal the disappointment in her eyes.
Yang Wen-Hua did not notice what she was truly feeling. He continued gazing at the distant stars.
But in her heart, Guo Xin-Mei silently asked herself:
Who, exactly, is the woman Big Brother can never let go of?
For the first time, she realized that a person could be so close, yet so far away.
60. Farewell at Taoyuan Airport
The departure hall at Taoyuan Airport was crowded with people. Announcements occasionally came from overhead, reminding passengers to prepare for check-in and departure procedures. Flight information on the large electronic boards was constantly being updated. Travelers moved through the spacious hall with their luggage. Some hurried toward the check-in counters, while others stood near the entrance saying goodbye to family and friends. The air was filled with the bustle of an impending journey and a faint sadness of parting.
Guo Xin-Mei pulled a suitcase as she walked side by side with Yang Wen-Hua and Su Junsheng through the departure hall. Six months earlier, she had come to Taiwan with hopes of learning and furthering her training. At that time, she had been full of expectations for the journey, but she had never imagined that six months later, what she would take home with her would be more than experience in surgery. She would also be taking with her an emotion she found difficult to let go of.
From time to time, she turned her head and glanced at Yang Wen-Hua beside her.
He was still wearing simple casual clothes. His expression was calm and natural. Compared with the composed and steady surgeon in the hospital operating room, he seemed less imposing now and more gentle, like a friend seeing someone off on a long journey.
Su Junsheng walked on the other side, occasionally looking down at Guo Xin-Mei’s luggage to make sure she had not forgotten anything.
When they reached the area near the departure entrance, Guo Xin-Mei suddenly stopped.
She turned around and looked at the two men who had accompanied her through the past six months. A trace of reluctance appeared in her eyes.
“Big Brother, Junsheng, thank you so much for everything over the past six months.”
She gently held the handle of her suitcase, doing her best to keep her voice steady.
“Thank you for your thoughtful guidance during these six months. What I gained from coming to Taiwan this time was much more than I originally imagined.”
By the end, although there was a smile on her lips, her eyes had begun to redden slightly.
During those six months, she had gone from initially following behind Yang Wen-Hua and learning from him to eventually standing at the operating table herself and completing minimally invasive surgery under his guidance.
The nervousness, excitement, setbacks, and successes had all become an irreplaceable memory in her life.
And what she found even harder to forget was the man who had always stood by her side.
Yang Wen-Hua looked at her with a warm smile.
“Xin-Mei, you’ve worked very hard these past six months. For many things, I only taught you the methods. The reason you were truly able to do them was because you were willing to put in the effort yourself.”
He paused, then smiled again.
“Taiwan will always welcome you. Come back and visit whenever you have the chance.”
“Yeah.”
Guo Xin-Mei nodded, but she did not leave immediately. She lowered her head and glanced at her luggage, then raised her head and looked at Yang Wen-Hua, as if she wanted to say something but could not find the words for a moment.
After a while, she suddenly gave him a slightly childlike smile.
“Big Brother... let me give you a hug.”
Yang Wen-Hua froze for a moment. He had not expected her to make such a request, but seeing the reluctance in Guo Xin-Mei’s eyes, he did not refuse. He simply opened his arms slightly.
Guo Xin-Mei released the handle of her suitcase, quickly stepped forward, and wrapped both arms around him.
The hug did not last long, but it made Guo Xin-Mei’s heart tremble violently.
She gently rested her face against Yang Wen-Hua’s shoulder and closed her eyes, feeling the familiar warmth of his embrace.
She knew she should let go, but her arms could not help tightening slightly.
The feelings she had kept buried in her heart for the past six months seemed to surge forward at that moment.
She had once wondered whether she should tell him how she felt. She had also imagined countless times during those nights what his reaction would be if she truly said it aloud.
But last night, he had already told her clearly that there was someone in his heart.
That woman was not her.
At the thought of this, the light in Guo Xin-Mei’s eyes dimmed for a moment.
But she did not want her farewell to become a sorrowful confession.
She simply brought her lips close to Yang Wen-Hua’s ear and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear:
“Big Brother... I’ll be waiting for you in Shanghai.”
Yang Wen-Hua was slightly startled.
A trace of surprise flashed through his eyes, but he did not ask any questions.
Guo Xin-Mei slowly released her arms.
She took a step back and forced herself to smile, but her eyes were even redder than before.
“Take care.”
Yang Wen-Hua looked at her and nodded gently. “You take care, too.”
Guo Xin-Mei turned and walked over to Su Junsheng. Su Junsheng held out his hand, and the two shook hands firmly.
“Junsheng, thank you for everything these past six months, too.”
“Don’t be so formal.” Su Junsheng smiled. “When you get to Shanghai, don’t focus only on work. Make sure you get some rest, too.”
Guo Xin-Mei smiled and nodded. “I know. And whenever you have time, you’re always welcome to come visit me in Shanghai.”
“Definitely.” Su Junsheng readily agreed, though the sadness of parting was impossible to hide from his smile.
Guo Xin-Mei picked up her suitcase again and turned toward the departure security area. The wheels of her suitcase made a steady sound against the smooth floor as her footsteps carried her farther and farther away.
Just before the customs entrance, she suddenly stopped. She turned around. Through the flow of people, she saw Yang Wen-Hua and Su Junsheng still standing where they were. Yang Wen-Hua’s arms hung naturally at his sides, a faint smile on his face. Su Junsheng raised a hand and waved to her. Guo Xin-Mei also raised her hand and waved vigorously at them.
Her smile looked bright, but hidden in her eyes was a trace of disappointment that no one could see. She knew that leaving Taiwan this time might simply be an ordinary farewell in the journey of life. But for her, these past six months had already left someone in her heart whom she could not easily erase. She took one last look at Yang Wen-Hua before turning around and walking through customs. Her figure quickly disappeared into the crowd.
Yang Wen-Hua remained where he was, his eyes fixed on the direction in which she had left until he could no longer see her. Su Junsheng stood beside him and turned his head to look at him. He seemed to sense something, but he did not say it aloud.
The airport announcement sounded again, reminding passengers to prepare for boarding. Yang Wen-Hua withdrew his gaze and let out a quiet breath. Yet he himself had never imagined that Guo Xin-Mei’s words just moments earlier—“I’ll be waiting for you in Shanghai”—would remain so clearly in his memory even many years later.
