Life is Like a Journey – Chapter 119
by Little PandaVolume 3: Transition
Success
Gu Yanzhi, don’t cry.
Lu Qingshi cut open the pericardium [heart sac], and blood immediately gushed out. The doctor’s face instantly turned pale, with large beads of sweat forming on her forehead.
She lowered her eyes slightly, breathing heavily.
It was the same type of bleeding as Lele, almost the same location of the atrial septal defect [heart chamber wall damage]. Would history repeat itself?
Viktor maneuvered the robotic arm: “Lu, let me help you…”
Lu Qingshi blocked the robotic arm with a hemostatic clamp, looking up with a trace of blood-red in her eyes.
“No, nobody move. I’ll do it myself.”
“Dr. Lu…” Yu Gui moved her lips.
Lu Qingshi ignored it, and after several rapid breaths, her gaze became calm.
She had crossed oceans and laid low for three years – wasn’t it all for this moment?
Challenge and surpassing were written into the medical student’s oath, but it wasn’t just about that.
She wanted to bid farewell to the past through this tragic and heroic surgery, just as Gu Yanzhi had said.
At this moment, Lele must be watching from heaven.
I’m sorry… Mom was helpless back then, but now I won’t disappoint you again.
Lele… if you’re there, please bless me.
The inferior vena cava type atrial septal defect [heart defect near lower blood vessel] typically has a large defective area, and due to its low and deep position, it’s difficult to detect in routine pre-operative examinations.
Back then, Lele died because everyone was focused on removing the external tumor and overlooked this point, which led to massive bleeding, compounded by a rare blood type that made the surgery even more difficult.
This time, she definitely wouldn’t make the same mistake.
“Get five more units of type A blood and cryoprecipitate [blood clotting factor],” the circulating nurse quickly ran out to fetch blood.
Lu Qingshi continued focusing on her work while Yu Gui used muscle retractors to expose the right atrium. She reached in to confirm the position of the inferior vena cava valve.
Somehow today, this usually quiet person became unusually talkative during surgery.
“In future similar cases, you must carefully identify which is the venous valve and which is the defect margin.”
Yu Gui startled as Lu Qingshi put down the hemostatic clamp: “Qingyun, get a 5mm pericardial patch, I’ll do the repair.”
“Alright,” Liu Qingyun responded immediately.
“Yu Gui,” she called her name again.
“A good surgeon starts as a third assistant. From third assistant, to second assistant, first assistant, to primary surgeon – it’s a long and tedious process. But some people, even after becoming primary surgeons, can never be called excellent surgeons.”
“What makes one excellent?”
“Patience, perseverance, calmness, maintaining independent thinking ability, and the determination to never give up on patients.”
She didn’t raise her head, just focused on her task. From this angle, one could see her elegant jawline and somewhat faint eyebrows. Perhaps due to the pain, her eyes weren’t as bright as before. Sweat slid down her cheeks and fell into her collar.
The wall clock had passed the fourteenth hour, and her surgical gown was soaked across the chest.
Some observing students couldn’t hold on anymore, dozing off against the wall, but Lu Qingshi’s hands remained steady.
The young person blinked, forcing back the moisture in their eyes.
“Enough, Dr. Lu, let us handle the rest.”
Viktor, who had already repositioned most organs with the da Vinci, looked at her worriedly: “Lu…”
“No…” Lu Qingshi didn’t look back, taking a deep breath to fight against the overwhelming pain in her body.
She bit her lower lip, sweating profusely: “This is my surgery.”
Yu Gui gripped the instruments tightly: “Dr. Lu… I really want to ask… why are you here again… when you used to hate it so much… wished them dead… why now…”
She choked up towards the end, barely holding back tears at the operating table: “That day, I actually wanted to persuade you to accept the surgery… but somehow it came out all wrong… more than anyone else, I wanted you to be well… to live on properly…”
She finally found a moment to look up at her, and as the harsh winter dispersed, she saw spring in her eyes.
It was the same gentleness, peace, quietness, and strength as Gu Yanzhi’s.
Though she used to smile occasionally before, beneath those smiles always lay an incomprehensible sadness. It wasn’t intentional – just a deep loneliness that seeped from her very core.
More often, she was cold, sharp, and harsh.
Even with patients, she had little patience, maintaining a careful distance with colleagues – a stance of mutual non-interference.
Though responsible with interns, she showed no warmth. She wasn’t the first to make them cry, but was reportedly the first they’d endured for so long.
She was a genius, but also a demon.
But one day, even demons can fly to the sky and scatter warmth upon humanity – that’s what makes a true spring.
Asked for a reason, she couldn’t really explain, but in this moment, many images flashed through her mind.
There was her first day of school, wearing a white coat and taking the oath before the Red Cross flag.
That was the starting point of a doctor’s career.
There was also her father on his deathbed, lying in isolation, breathing weakly, skeletal, his chest deeply sunken, with medical staff recording his data beside him.
Wearing isolation gear, she held his hand, grief-stricken, but her father just smiled, using his last strength to tell her: “Qingshi, don’t be afraid, your father is dying with dignity.”
There was also her elderly grandfather, leaving early and returning late, tutoring underprivileged young students during the harsh winter months.
And there was Xu Qankun who died because helping others delayed his own treatment, and Dean Meng who donated his body for medical research on his deathbed…
And that question Gu Yanzhi asked her: “If Peipei were just an ordinary person’s child, would you save them?”
Yes.
Everything returned to the original starting point.
I vow to dedicate myself fully to relieving human suffering, promoting perfect health, upholding the sanctity and honor of medicine, saving lives and helping the injured, never shrinking from hardship, pursuing with dedication, and fighting lifelong for the development of our country’s medical and health cause and humanity’s physical and mental wellbeing.
That’s all there is to it.
If there’s anything more, it’s as father said – soldiers die on battlefields, doctors stand their posts, dying with purpose.
Using this small firefly’s light to illuminate the path forward for those who follow.
Striving to use one’s own light and warmth to make every star whole.
This was Lele’s expectation of her, the expectation of a doctor mother.
She went into surgery carrying these thoughts, but…
Lu Qingshi lowered her eyes, her hands never stopping, and in the intervals between increasingly intense pain, she hazily saw someone’s shadow.
She would surely be angry.
She respected all her decisions, except this one – this she couldn’t accept.
Lu Qingshi knew she would forever feel guilty towards her.
Lu Qingshi never answered Yu Gui’s words, but through the surgical mask, one could sense her smile as she softly said just one thing.
“Thank you.”
The anesthesiologist stood up: “Director Lu, Dr. Viktor, the extracorporeal circulation [external blood circulation] can only last another hour at most, please hurry.”
Even though she had resigned, people in the operating room still instinctively called her “Director Lu.”
Lu Qingshi increased her speed: “Come, let’s continue.”
Watching a good doctor perform surgery was an art, especially with her craftsman’s hands – distinct knuckles, long and delicate.
The camera zoomed in, opening and closing, turning and shifting, her ten fingers dancing with a unique beauty.
Liu Changsheng held his teacup, watching for a long time. The large conference room was silent. With Lu Qingshi at its core, the entire operating room was twisted into a single rope, orderly, and though silent, an invisible force spread throughout.
Her speed matched the da Vinci robot’s. Viktor controlled it to reconstruct the blood vessels of the large and small intestines while she began repairing the atrial septal defect. Human and machine maintained a delicate rhythm.
Until…
Lu Qingshi clenched her teeth, her head splitting with pain. Unable to steady herself with her hands, she suddenly braced against the operating table.
Instruments fell with a sharp clang.
“Dr. Lu!” Yu Gui steadied her with an elbow, eyes misty, shaking her head desperately: “Stop… let’s stop… go rest… I’ll handle the rest… I’ve practiced with senior colleagues… we can do it… trust me… Dr. Lu…”
“Forceps,” she slowly straightened up. Hao Renjie held back, gritting his teeth, refusing to hand over the instrument she requested.
So she slowly but firmly repeated: “Forceps.”
After this grown man handed over the instrument, he turned away and wept.
“Pericardial patch,” her tone softened, voice becoming unsteady.
Liu Qingyun handed her the container. In the slippery fluid, it took her two tries to grasp the pericardial patch. Lu Qingshi closed her eyes briefly, and when she reopened them, some clarity had returned.
Must… not… lose.
The anesthesiologist began counting down: “Fifteen minutes until surgery time ends.”
“F*ck!” Viktor’s palms were sweaty, and he had to pause briefly to wipe them on his pants before continuing to control the da Vinci.
Though she wasn’t tall or robust, her shoulders particularly thin, making the loose surgical gown hang empty except where a single belt lightly outlined her waist.
Yet this not-so-tall and somewhat fragile female doctor’s presence was the most reassuring in the operating room.
Though she didn’t speak, everyone understood: as long as she was there, the surgery wouldn’t fail.
Lu Qingshi possessed this mysterious power.
Yu Gui wiped tears with her shoulder and increased her speed.
“Ten minutes until surgery time ends.”
Lu Qingshi pulled sutures from the cardiac tissue, tying knots deftly.
Yu Gui followed with scissors to cut the thread ends, and Lu Qingshi inserted the needle holder again, repeating the cycle.
She drew out the needle, and this time before she could act, Yu Gui tied the knot one-handed and cut the excess thread with scissors.
The camera captured this moment, and interns whispered: “So fast, she can actually keep up with Director Lu’s speed.”
“Five minutes until surgery time ends.”
The da Vinci robot also began accelerating at full power, mechanical claws fully extended, Viktor focusing intently on the screen.
As sweat rolled into her eyes, Lu Qingshi slightly pressed her lower abdomen against the operating table to maintain her balance.
She had a moment of blankness, not knowing what she was doing, but the anesthesiologist’s voice quickly brought her back to awareness.
At this moment, she was operating purely on instinct, mechanically suturing and tying knots, working in perfect harmony with Yu Gui.
“Three minutes until surgery time ends!”
Besides the sound of running equipment, she could hear her own heavy breathing.
Yu Gui turned to look – her surgical cap was completely soaked at the front, as was her collar. She put down the surgical scissors and slowly raised her hand: “4.0 absorbable suture.”
Hao Renjie handed over the suture.
Chen Yi glanced at the numbers on the wall. The morphine’s effect lasted only six hours at most, but now eight hours had passed, and she had stood here performing surgery for over two hours while enduring level ten cancer pain.
Unable to bear watching, she turned her face slightly away.
“Dr. Lu…” Yu Gui spoke again with a pleading tone.
“Yu Gui, do you remember the first lesson I taught you?”
Everything seemed to return to the story’s beginning.
“Before obtaining your medical license, never claim to be a doctor – it could kill many people.”
“To a doctor, there is no male or female, only patients and healthy people.”
“In any situation, the patient comes first.”
“People – must rely on themselves.”
“If I fail, the patient dies. Life is a one-way street, giving no one a chance for regret, but more than failure, I fear regret.”
“That feeling of doing nothing while watching a patient die is far worse than failure.”
…
Memories flashed through her mind like a revolving lantern, and Yu Gui unconsciously wept.
She remembered, she remembered it all.
The first lesson she taught her was the belief to never abandon patients.
“I remember…” she choked out.
“One minute until surgery time ends!”
The countdown began.
“This is the first lesson…” Lu Qingshi didn’t raise her head, lowering her eyes as she pulled the needle from the muscle: “And also…”
Her voice grew faint, cold sweat pouring like a waterfall.
Only Yu Gui, closest to her, could see her whole body trembling, shaking from intense pain and chills.
“Thirty seconds until surgery time ends!”
Lu Qingshi steadied one hand with the other, maintaining balance as she pulled the final stitch through the muscle, slowly tying a knot.
“Ten seconds until surgery time ends!”
Viktor shouted: “All organs repositioned complete!”
Lu Qingshi gripped the vascular clamp on the aorta: “The final lesson.”
“Extracorporeal circulation, stop!”
Her thumb and fingers released, dark red blood flowed throughout the body, pale organs gradually regaining color, the heart beginning to contract rhythmically.
Both inside and outside the operating room, everyone erupted in cheers.
Interns with panda eyes hugged each other, lead surgeon and assistants high-fived in celebration.
Viktor jumped down from the control panel, tugging at his scrubs and jumping around like a child.
“Oh my god!!! We did it!!! Thank God! Lu, I love you!!!”
Jiang Jing, head wrapped in gauze, stitches not yet removed, silently wept covering her mouth. She had severe concussion and was ordered to rest.
Watching that person’s profile on the screen, she pulled out her IV and got out of bed, shakily standing to bow deeply to her.
Dr. Lu, thank you.
Truly… beyond words.
Liu Changsheng removed his glasses, wiping the corner of his eye with the back of his hand. Old Meng, you weren’t wrong – this child Qingshi can truly go further than either of us.
Yu Gui watched everything unfolding before her in disbelief, a miracle worthy of being called a miracle. She wanted to cry and laugh at once, putting down the scalpel to grab Lu Qingshi’s wrist.
“Dr. Lu, we succeeded, we succeeded!”
Lu Qingshi smiled slightly, closing her eyes weakly: “Surgery… successful.”
As the light fabric slipped from her grasp, Yu Gui’s heart leaped: “Lu…”
She turned, gesturing she was fine, just waving lightly as she stepped down from the operating table as usual.
The surgery succeeded, she had fulfilled her promise to Lele, and now she could go find the other most important person in her life.
She left without saying goodbye, not knowing how angry that person would be.
If they met again, she would definitely need to make amends properly.
Whatever she wanted would be fine, even following her wishes five, six, seven, or eight times over.
Lu Qingshi’s lips curved slightly as the operating room doors opened wide. She saw that person she’d been longing for, running towards her against the light from the corridor’s end.
Was it because it had grown dark that she couldn’t see her face clearly?
Then why couldn’t she hear her speaking?
Why was she crying?
Gu Yanzhi… don’t cry.
I’m… back.
She futilely reached out to touch her fingertips but grasped only emptiness.
She fell into a white light.
An invisible force pulled her downward.
Before consciousness scattered, she finally saw her tear-streaked face clearly.
Gu Yanzhi… Yanzhi… don’t cry…
Don’t… cry…
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