Chapter 9

The task completion rate changed to 1/10, which made Ling Ran feel good.

"Doctor Zhou, how does it look?"

Ling Ran deliberately asked. He didn't think he had sewn particularly fast or well.

In fact, his medical judgment was still at the intern level.

This kind of skill can only be developed with extensive experience.

It's like a native hunter in the mountains who only realizes how fast or slow he runs after competing and communicating with others.

Doctor Zhou gave Ling Ran a puzzled look, unsure if he was joking.

If he was just playing around, he shouldn't do it in front of the patient. If he wasn't playing around... why ask such a question?

Could it be... he's asking for praise? Or is he just showing off?

Doctor Zhou's mind raced with various thoughts.

Normal surgeons do all sorts of strange things.

Playing symphonies, rock, hip-hop, or Guo Degang's crosstalk in the operating room is all considered normal. Enjoying dirty jokes and listening to them is an essential trait of surgeons.

Those who like to curse and those who like to be praised—this mainly depends on their skills. Those with good skills naturally have the right to curse and can freely ask the operating room staff to praise them...

Doctor Zhou felt inexplicably unhappy. He guessed that the young doctor in front of him was probably a skilled doctor from a local hospital, here for a gold-plating exchange.

Interns, residents, and exchange doctors from local hospitals are different.

Doctor Zhou thought that if a local hospital could have such skills, it must be because the doctor was often praised in the operating room, and it was understandable that he had developed some bad habits.

Volunteering to sew must have been to show off.

However, even if your skills are good, I'm not your junior in the department, so why should I flatter you?

Doctor Zhou snorted several times in his head, then forced a smile and said, "The suturing is perfect..."

Inside, Doctor Zhou sighed at his own decline: Ah, in society, one becomes more and more social. It's best not to offend skilled doctors from other hospitals.

Stuck in the mire of the secular world, Doctor Zhou, while reminiscing about the loss of his youthful ideals and integrity, asked calmly, "We haven't met before. What's your name?"

He guessed that the other person, after showing off, naturally wanted to leave a name. Just like a great hero who goes to great lengths to break a big stone, uproot a willow, or fight a tiger, isn't it all for fame?

Doctor Zhou, impressed by the other person's skills, decided to cooperate.

As an intern, Ling Ran answered straightforwardly, "I'm Ling Ran, just assigned to the emergency department yesterday."

"Ling Ran, huh." Doctor Zhou tried hard to recall.

"Doctor Ling, your hands are so slender, perfect for a surgeon." Nurse Wang Ji, who usually treated interns coldly, was completely charmed by Ling Ran's good looks, even calling him "Doctor."

For a medical student just starting their internship, being called "Doctor" by patients would make them feel like they were floating on a cloud.

If they were called "Doctor" by other doctors or nurses, the clouds would immediately rain.

Ling Ran was also very happy and gave Nurse Wang Ji a big smile.

Nurse Wang Ji felt weak all over.

"Doctor Zhou, are you free? Patient in bed three has arrived." Another nurse ran over to call for help.

The emergency room is never short of patients. A patient with a knife in the chest is urgent, and a patient with a light bulb in the mouth is also urgent.

Doctor Zhou nodded and followed the nurse, with Ling Ran not hesitating to follow.

As an intern, one must seize every opportunity.

Nurse Wang Ji was also called away by other nurses. Doctors have their busy moments, and nurses are no less busy.

Doctor Zhou was not very happy about having a skilled doctor from another hospital follow him but didn't say anything.

The nurse who came to call for help had no objections, just glanced at Ling Ran and started introducing the patient's condition: "Patient in bed three reports being slashed on the head and bleeding for over an hour. He has been drinking, but is not unconscious, has no nausea or vomiting, no bleeding from the mouth, nose, or ears, and no limb movement impairment..."

At bed three, they saw a young man with tattoos, triangular eyes, a flat nose, and well-developed muscles, sitting cross-legged on the bed, one hand pressing a bandage tightly on the left side of his head, and grinning and chatting with two similarly aged social brothers.

"Hey, the doctor is here. Doctor, please check my brother..." The man accompanying him, who was a bit older, saw the white coat and immediately raised his voice: "My brother was chased and slashed by over a hundred people. If it weren't for his good kung fu, he wouldn't have made it today. You must sew him up well..."

"You don't move, how can I check?" Doctor Zhou was speechless and said, "The family should wait outside. We'll call you if there's anything."

"No, we have to stay here." The two brothers shook their heads firmly, their eyes wide as bells.

"This place is so small. How can I operate with you standing here?" Doctor Zhou had encountered similar situations before and spoke calmly.

Doctors can't choose their patients, especially emergency room doctors, who face complex doctor-patient relationships. They can't be rushed or agitated.

The two brothers shook their heads like dials: "We can't leave our brother alone..."

"One person can stay to pay the bill, and the other can wait outside." Doctor Zhou's voice was calm.

"We've already paid!" The two brothers were a bit panicked.

"With such serious injuries, you'll definitely need to pay more. One person can stay."

Doctor Zhou spoke and gestured, and the two brothers obediently moved aside.

In a moment, they disappeared without a trace.

However, the peace Doctor Zhou expected did not come.

The tattooed man, after receiving local anesthesia, felt extremely comfortable, and while receiving debridement, started boasting about his combat history.

As he spoke, his wound would tremble. Doctor Zhou reminded him a couple of times, but he couldn't resist his forgetfulness.

After barely completing the debridement, Doctor Zhou was drenched in sweat, put down the forceps, and warned again, "Now we need to sew. Don't talk, or the needle might go in the wrong place."

"If the needle goes in the wrong place, it's a medical accident, and you'll have to pay." The tattooed man was unmoved and said, "Treating injuries is your job. You have to do it well. Guan Yu, when he had his bone scraped, still drank and ate meat, and played chess. Bian Que didn't say he couldn't talk, did he?"

Doctor Zhou looked up at the sky speechlessly: "It was Hua Tuo who scraped the bone."

"Spit, I don't know about other things, but I know everything about Brother Guan. You call yourself educated, and you say Hua Tuo scraped the bone? That's a joke."

"Hua Tuo is... forget it." Doctor Zhou turned his head and asked Ling Ran, "Do you want to do the suturing?"

If a skilled doctor from another hospital wants to show off, give him a difficult task.

Doctor Zhou secretly thought of various outcomes.

Ling Ran walked up without hesitation.

To an intern, every practice opportunity is as precious as a new inflatable doll.

"Please turn your head to the side." Ling Ran adjusted his position and picked up the needle holder.

The tattooed man had already noticed the young Ling Ran and said unhappily, "Why are you changing people? I've been to many hospitals. If you don't sew this well today, you won't have a good time..."

As the man was talking, he suddenly noticed Doctor Zhou's unusual expression and became even more dissatisfied, "Hey, what's that look for!"

Doctor Zhou, who almost dropped his jaw, looked at Ling Ran in shock and then said to the tattooed man, "Your wound is sewn up."

Suturing a head wound is not difficult for a surgeon, but completing it quickly while the patient is talking is a very flashy move, which he had never seen before.

Such skills, if used, would be in very advanced surgeries, such as heart surgery where the heart is still beating, and suturing blood vessels or the mitral valve might face an unstable environment.

But using such high-level suturing skills on a bald head seemed like a waste.

Ling Ran, who had just completed the subcutaneous puncture, clamping, and interrupted suturing, didn't think it was a waste.

He stylishly put away the instruments, turned the tattooed man's head a couple of times, like twisting a toy transformer's head, and said satisfactorily, "It's perfect."

In the mirror, the tattooed man's head wound was left with only patches of blood, and the fine sutures perfectly held the wound together. If you didn't look closely, you couldn't find the position.

With Ling Ran's personality, he had to sew it this way to feel satisfied.

What he hated most in school were the girls who sewed bananas with bumps, which were not aesthetically pleasing.

"This is faster than the slashing, and the suturing is good, the edges are aligned..." The tattooed man, who frequently visited hospitals, knew a good job when he saw one. He sighed and immediately said, "Doctor, can I have your business card? We'll come to you if we have any more issues."

Ling Ran was a bit tempted but politely declined, "I don't have a business card, but I work at the hospital."

The tattooed man slapped his thigh and said, "It's settled. I'll go slash a few more people, and if any of my brothers get injured, I'll bring them to you."

With that, he jumped off the bed, swinging his colorful arms, and shouted, "Brothers, let's go back and slash them."

"Slash them! Slash them!" Outside the emergency room, more of the tattooed man's brothers had arrived, their voices in unison like a family.

Ling Ran, seeing the task completion rate at 2/10, felt a bit of anticipation.

Every fallen angel is a precious treasure for a medical intern.

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