Chapter 815: 803 Metal Ball with Blades

"Th-thank... thank you..." Jiang Zong's voice trembled as he spoke.

Who would have thought the patient had no external injury but metal inside? If it were the sharp kind, it could cause blood-borne diseases during surgery... Just thinking about it made Jiang Zong break into a sweat on his back.

At that moment, his phone vibrated in the pocket of his isolation gown.

Jiang Zong seemed a bit impatient and irritable, saying, "Hey you, help me pick up the phone."

"Oh." Zheng Ren replied.

"Who is this, calling nonstop, not knowing I'm in surgery?" Jiang Zong muttered, using words to ease his own tension.

Zheng Ren picked up the phone and saw it was labeled "Wang Ge".

"Hello." Zheng Ren answered the phone.

"Zheng... Chief Zheng? You..." Wang Zong hesitated on the other end.

"I just came up."

"How's the surgery going?"

"It's especially complicated: unexplained liver rupture, spleen rupture, stomach rupture, and duodenal bulb rupture. I'd seen this patient's CT before; the duodenal bulb was suspected of having a tumor, and the family said they'd done an ERCP half a month ago to take a pathological biopsy, which turned out to be carcinoma in situ." Zheng Ren said all at once.

Jiang Zong was left dumbfounded.

So many injuries? And it's complicated by a tumor?

But before he could ask, the phone was pressed to his ear.

After exchanging a few words with Wang Zong, it was simple, and his gaze changed.

After hanging up, Jiang Zong said somewhat awkwardly, "Boss Zheng, when did you arrive?"

"When you asked me to draw blood." Zheng Ren said.

Jiang Zong was drenched in sweat, soaking straight through his isolation gown.

"Boss Zheng, lend me a hand?" Jiang Zong said, as if he'd found a savior.

This was unintentionally offensive; I'd heard Wang Zong talk about Boss Zheng's surgery. For P-J syndrome, he'd snipped out hundreds of intestinal polyps bit by bit, and back then Wang Zong had been utterly impressed.

Otherwise, hearing he was going to Hai Cheng to assist, Wang Zong wouldn't have volunteered so readily.

The surgery was extremely difficult, plus there were unknown dangers.

Now that an expert is lending a hand, Jiang Zong won't stubbornly refuse. Besides, Wang Zong said on the phone that Boss Zheng had some connection with the patient's family, so he came to take a look.

He's just an assistant, Jiang Zong thought.

Zheng Ren nodded and said, "Then I'll go scrub up. Be careful with the spleen, plug the bleeding point, don't cut yet, and watch out for injury."

Jiang Zong quickly nodded.

After scrubbing up and putting on a sterile gown, Zheng Ren took the position of third assistant.

As he reached out, Zheng Ren quietly said, "Hemostatic forceps, blunt scissors."

The instrument nurse quickly placed the two instruments in Zheng Ren's hands.

Zheng Ren glanced at Jiang Zong and said, "Jiang Zong, then I won't hold back."

After saying that, Zheng Ren passed the blunt scissors to his right hand, took the hemostatic forceps in his left, and began blunt dissection.

His technique was so skilled it was almost ridiculous; the operating field was filled with bright red blood, yet it seemed to pose no hindrance to Zheng Ren whatsoever.

A few seconds later, Zheng Ren tapped the assistant's suction device with the blunt scissors and said, "Suction the blood, don't zone out."

"……" The assistant blinked, not understanding the situation.

Nevertheless, he quickly came to, followed Zheng Ren's instructions, began suctioning blood, and exposed the operating field.

The tissue adhesions around the spleen peeled away quickly.

The lower they dissected, the more bleeding there was. Moreover, because of unknown risks below, they couldn't just cut the spleen directly, which made things more complicated.

However, Zheng Ren's hand speed and skill were master-level; after separating the spleen's adhesions, he held the blunt scissors in his palm, picked up the suction device, and located the bleeding point.

It wasn't a point, but a surface.

The spleen was torn into a wound about 5 cm in diameter and roughly 3 cm deep. The wound was ragged; calling it a sharp‑instrument injury is a stretch. But it definitely wasn't a blunt‑instrument injury—this wound was strange.

The more Zheng Ren did this surgery, the stranger it felt; this kind of opening was clearly traumatic, not bleeding from a tumor rupture being pulled apart.

Yet how the patient sustained this external injury, Zheng Ren still didn't know. According to Lin JiaoJiao, the patient had no wound; he was eating when he suddenly vomited a mouthful of blood.

It's truly uncanny.

Gauze was stuffed in, but it was instantly soaked through.

"Hold it!" Zheng Ren said.

The first assistant, a junior doctor, replied, but he didn't dare touch it directly; instead he asked the instrument nurse for a hemostatic clamp and used the instrument to press.

Who knows if the patient is positive for syphilis or HIV? If he got injured and infected, it would be an undeserved disaster.

If you can avoid it, do so.

Zheng Ren nudged the assistant aside, shifting his position slightly toward the operating field.

The first assistant was also accommodating, immediately making space for Zheng Ren; he only needed to maintain pressure on the spleen's bleeding spot and do the suction.

"Boss Zheng, there's something down there—be careful." Jiang Zong warned anxiously.

"Hmm, retractor, expose a bit." Zheng Ren said, and then the blunt scissors and hemostatic forceps in his hand continued to dissect downward.

After a prior surgery, the organs were riddled with excessive adhesive connective tissue. Without normal clear anatomical structure, in the bloody operating field, they could only probe bit by bit.

But Zheng Ren had no hesitation; he merely dissected bit by bit, not too fast or slow, carefully avoiding sharp objects in the abdominal cavity.

Nevertheless, the surgery wasn't slow.

The patient's stomach had several perforations and tearing marks. Zheng Ren was fairly aggressive, using the two perforations as points to make a direct incision about 10 cm long.

After opening it, he put a sheath on the suction device and drew out the remaining gastric fluid.

The operating field gradually cleared, revealing a dark sphere a little over 1 cm in diameter. The sphere lay near the spleen's side, with unfolded metal blades.

"……"

"……"

"……"

Everyone on stage was dumbfounded.

"What the hell is this high-tech thing? Nowadays, even suicide uses this kind of thing?"

Zheng Ren thought for a moment, then used the hemostatic forceps to clamp the side of the blade near the metal ball, and with the forceps he bit down firmly, click-click, directly biting to the last notch, to prevent the blade from retracting and causing secondary damage.

After the forceps had bitten down, Zheng Ren handed it to Jiang Zong, then reached out again.

Another hemostatic forceps was slapped into Zheng Ren's hand.

"Zheng Lao Ban, what is this?" Jiang Zong steadied his right hand, afraid that any movement would cause the blade to inflict more damage on the patient.

He was quite curious; having been a doctor for quite some time, finding anything in the digestive tract was normal. Like beer bottles, ping-pong balls, steel bars, wooden sticks — he'd long since gotten used to them.

But this little thing in the patient's stomach was something he had never seen before.

Zheng Ren said nothing, continuing to dissect along the metal blade, separating the bodily tissue.

Bit by bit, very slow, very careful.

This segment of metal blade and the hyperplastic connective tissue from the gastric bypass surgery were tangled together, caught by highly elastic connective tissue.

Zheng Ren then used the forceps in his hand to bite down firmly on the other end, then began to separate the connective tissue.

The blade was thin, very tough, but extremely sharp.

After the dissection, Zheng Ren only then had Jiang Zong take out the black metal ball together with the metal blade and throw it into the pathology basin.

With a "clang", it was clear but unpleasant to the ear.