In the deep night, many operating rooms at the First Military Affiliated Hospital were dark, except for one that was bright like daytime.
Inside the operating room, Lin Jie's torso was as still as a stone sculpture, motionless, only his hands manipulating delicate surgical instruments, either suturing, or sealing tiny glands and blood vessels at the site of liver damage.
Though one or two hours had passed since the surgery began, Lin Jie's hand movements were as steady as a mountain, swift like the wind, and smooth like water.
This made Chu Yongjin, watching intently beside him, feel like Lin Jie was as unreachable as a high cloud-covered mountain.
He thought to himself that he could maintain Lin Jie's level of concentration for no more than thirty minutes. Afterwards, his execution power would significantly decline, and his finger movements would, more or less, deform.
