"Smack!"
The harsh white lights shut off all at once. The sixteen-hour surgery was finally over.
Xun Yuming lifted his head. His cervical spine cracked sharply. The strong smell of disinfectant made him dizzy. He shifted slightly; numbness and tingling surged up from the soles of his feet, like ants crawling along his legs.
Time moved differently inside the operating room. Including the seven-plus hours he had spent earlier in the ICU and emergency department, he had been working nonstop for nearly twenty-four hours.
His temples throbbed. He stomped his right foot, trying to shake off the lingering numbness. After removing his dark green surgical gown and disposable gloves, he took a deep breath and strode out.
The staff corridor was brightly lit. Several people stood gathered near the break room entrance, clearly waiting for him.
He stepped on the sink's foot pedal and washed his hands, glancing through the transparent sensor door.
For the past two months, wherever he went, people surrounded him. Praise followed him constantly. Though he hadn't been at the hospital long, he had already experienced the overwhelming enthusiasm of his colleagues.
After drying his hands, he walked toward the break room. Before he reached it, a nurse leaning against the doorframe called out,
"Dr. Xun, your phone's been ringing forever. We didn't dare touch it."
She covered her mouth as she laughed. "Come take a look."
It was probably work-related. He rarely received personal calls.
"Thank you."
The room was crowded. Some were sitting, others standing. Xun Yuming walked to the innermost corner, opened a locker, and took out his phone, which had been wrapped in a disposable glove.
It wasn't a call.
It was an alarm.
His face turned red instantly. Low laughter spread around him.
Just as he unlocked it with facial recognition, the phone vibrated again and the ringtone blared:
"Baby, wake up! The sun is shining on your little bottom!"
The childish voice echoed through the room.
His hand trembled. The phone slipped from his grip, arcing through the air before hitting the ground with a dull thud.
The nurse bent down, picked it up, and exclaimed, "Oh no, the screen cracked!"
"It's fine. It was already cracked."
With a hand steady enough to hold a scalpel but now slightly shaking, Xun Yuming pressed the power button.
"I'll go change first. You guys keep talking."
The locker room across the hall was empty at this hour.
He slipped inside quickly, shutting the door behind him, and let out a long breath.
Eight years already.
Time to change the alarm.
It had been another long night. His whole body ached; his limbs felt heavy. He sat on the wooden bench for a while before opening the metal locker and changing slowly, almost mechanically.
After fastening the last button of his shirt, his stomach growled.
All he wanted was a hot shower and a bowl of steaming shrimp porridge topped with scallions.
The breakfast stall downstairs should be open by now.
He could grab takeout on the way home. Maybe add a box of fresh pork pan-fried buns.
The more he thought about it, the hungrier he felt.
He quickened his movements, pulled up his sweatpants, grabbed his old phone, and walked out.
The group outside was still there. As soon as they saw him, they surrounded him again.
"Dr. Xun, that surgery was amazing! That clamp looked huge. How did you know it would fit perfectly? If it were me, I wouldn't dare!"
"That attending physician has done so many surgeries. Of course he's experienced, right, Dr. Xun?"
"Dr. Xun isn't even thirty yet. I'm two years older and still not an associate attending. He performs so many operations and he's talented too. That's a surgeon's instinct. We ordinary people can't compare."
"Enough, you two," someone interrupted. "You argue every chance you get. No one else can even speak."
"You all talk," Xun Yuming said with a faint smile. Behind his glasses, his peach blossom eyes curved gently. "I'm not good at arguing. My blood pressure rises the moment I try. I prefer listening."
"Good thing you can't argue," someone teased. "Otherwise you'd be perfect in every way. Winning the Manfield Award at your age , Manfield! And you look like that too. Thank goodness the dean is a man. If it were a woman, she'd definitely try to take advantage of you."