Chapter 698: 687 This Is the Gap

Mu Tao had many dreams, dreaming of himself lying on the beach in Sanya, enjoying the warm sunshine. It was really warm, the sunlight disc dispelled the unknown yin chill from his body, making him exceptionally comfortable.

Just as he felt comfortable wanting to turn over and change his angle to receive the sunlight, the silhouettes of Wu Haishi and Wu Lao appeared before him.

Wu Lao held a book in his hand, his back to the sunlight, walking toward him.

Mu Tao stared for a moment, feeling dazed, wondering where this place was.

"Mu Tao, why are you still lying down? Have you given up?" Wu Lao said sternly, just as he had when Mu Tao first entered graduate school many years ago and saw Wu Lao for the first time.

This wasn't a dream, yet in his sleep Mu Tao realized he wasn't dreaming, and he immediately scrambled to his feet.

"You said you wanted to become the best interventional doctor—how could you forget so quickly?" Wu Lao's voice was low and distant.

It was like the morning bell and evening drum.

Mu Tao lowered his head in shame, looking at the book Wu Lao held in his hand.

The New England Journal of Medicine—that was the journal Mu Tao could never forget, the one that published the new TIPS Surgery technique.

Mu Tao suddenly woke up, under the dual pressure of The New England Journal of Medicine and Wu Lao.

He felt as if he had jumped from one space to another, suddenly discovering himself in an unfamiliar Operating Room, asleep in a chair.

Wasn't he at the Mayo Clinic? He was still a bit dazed, but then he remembered he had returned from the United States and was now engaged in Earthquake Relief.

Through the Lead glass, he saw the circulating nurse in the Operating Room bustling about, her feet never touching the ground, while a figure he would never forget even in a dream stood before the viewbox, chin resting on her hand as she looked at the images.

Although he wore a Mask and a Sterile Cap, Mu Tao recognized the person at First Time.

Zheng Ren, Chief Zheng, that little Inpatient Chief from Haicheng in Northern Province!

It turned out he had just been dreaming… really just dreaming…

Mu Tao gradually recalled the situation: he had performed many Interventional embolization procedures for severe pelvic fractures, but the number of casualties pulled from the front lines only increased, without any Reduction.

No matter how anxious he felt, the surgeries just wouldn't speed up.

Then… it seemed Zheng Ren had come too. Right, why was he here? Didn't he have a Nobel Prize project on hand? How could he rush to the front lines?

Mu Tao continued to recall, himself sitting here, watching Zheng Ren perform surgery.

It was the same Interventional embolization for severe pelvic fractures; the patients' conditions were similar, but Zheng Ren's surgical technique left him astonished.

No matter how tortuous the branches of the internal iliac artery were, no matter how fine they were, Super-selective selection succeeded in one go, and the technique showed no sign of being particularly ingenious.

Yet before this simplest technique, the surgery was already finished.

Mu Tao cursed himself inwardly: how could he be so useless, falling asleep at a time like this!

But however you put it, he was nearly forty, having traveled exhaustedly from one side of the earth to the other, without even taking a hot shower, rushing to the many township hospitals at the front line to begin surgery.

Wearing Lead clothing, undergoing nonstop Shou Bing, he consumed too much energy.

Mu Tao didn't think about these things, nor did he self‑critique; instead he watched inside the Operating Room as Zheng Ren began disinfecting, and the circulating nurse 'flew' out.

The girl glanced at Mu Tao, without even time to greet, shouting—Doctor Zheng, is there anything you need me for? Then she ran out of the operating room to check the sterile packs that had been brought up.

Few staff, heavy workload, everyone was busy.

Mu Tao knew this, but he didn't move.

He crossed his arms, propped his chin, stared at the screen before him, and imagined what he would do if he were the one on the Operating table.

Femoral artery puncture—of course no problem. Placing an arterial sheath, also routine. The Microguidewire went in directly, instead of a regular guidewire first, which was a confident move.

Some doctors' technique falls short; for the relatively thick vessels up front they still habitually use a thick guidewire, then advance the Catheter, and finally thread the Microguidewire through the Catheter.

He himself didn't use a thick guidewire either—well, this Chief Zheng probably wouldn't either.

And then…

Just as he simulated the next step, Mu Tao's eyes lit up—the image on the screen began to move.

Um… had it reached the position? Mu Tao estimated that this bit had at least lagged him by 10‑20 seconds.

His hand speed was truly fast—fast enough to feel unreal, perhaps because of his youth.

Mu Tao gave himself excuses in his heart, but his eyes remained fixed on the screen.

Sure enough, the Microguidewire and Microcatheter were already in position, needing no further action; at the moment of stepping on the pedal, he began the contrast injection directly.

Four branches of the internal iliac artery were bleeding; the puffs of contrast agent silently told Mu Tao this.

Let's begin Super‑selective, Mu Tao stared without blinking, entering a meditative state.

Before him was his lifelong rival; and now, for the first time, he was seeing the rival's surgery with his own eyes—he had to see just how good the rival really was.

The Microguidewire advanced inside; a 70‑degree‑angled vascular branch did not impede its progress at all.

Others couldn't see it, but Mu Tao could.

At the angled point of the vascular branch, the operator's unseen wrist and finger certainly made a motion; then force was transmitted to the tip of the Microguidewire, causing it to suddenly change angle as it passed the branch, achieving the operator's goal.

Force perfect, angle perfect, motion perfect.

Everything was perfect—so perfect that someone slightly lesser in skill couldn't even notice that the Microguidewire had ever made such a motion.

Could he achieve that?

Probably just enough to be smug…

Super‑selective finished quickly, then the Microcatheter entered and embolization began. What surprised Mu Tao was that after embolization the operator performed no contrast imaging check, but directly withdrew the Microguidewire and Microcatheter to move on to the next step of the surgery.

Indeed, full of confidence—Mu Tao didn't think the operator was violating protocol; he knew this was a practice of extreme confidence in his own skill.

If it were an ordinary time and place, the operator would most likely do a contrast imaging check.

But now, time is life.

If there is confidence, this step can be omitted.

Mu Tao asked himself, would he do that?

No… because without checking, he really wouldn't know whether the embolization had succeeded.

The process for embolizing the second vascular branch was the same; during Super‑selective navigation, at the more difficult spot, just a wrist‑and‑finger motion transmitted force to the tip of the Microguidewire, allowing the nearly 90‑degree‑angled, extremely challenging vascular branch to be bypassed.

Mu Tao felt as if he were watching a thriller, his eyes still unblinking, while his heart was overturned by towering waves.

Four Blood Vessels were occluded in just a few minutes; the technique… aside from that invisible movement, everything was textbook‑standard, ordinary technique; examined separately, there was nothing outstanding.

Checked the time, 11 Minutes.

Damn, this is the gap!