36: Chapter 36: The Stitching Contest! Do you think he can do it?

Guangfu Hospital was very efficient.

Fifteen minutes later, the tables in the Conference Room had been rearranged.

Two operating tables were set up side-by-side, each with a standard Suturing practice module on it.

They were silicone pads simulating skin, with pre-made incisions designed to mimic Suturing different types of wounds.

A full set of Suturing instruments—needle holders, forceps, scissors, and sutures—was laid out beside them.

Director Qian Fangxu stood to the side, acting as the temporary judge.

"The rules are simple: same wound models, start at the same time, and we will judge the quality of the Suturing upon completion."

"This includes stitch spacing uniformity, tension control, edge approximation accuracy, and overall aesthetics."

"There is no time limit, but we will record the time."

"Any questions?"

Zhou Wenjie shook his head.

"No."

Lu Chen also shook his head.

"No."

The two of them each stood in front of an operating table.

Lu Chen glanced at the Suturing module in front of him.

There was a standard 6-centimeter incision on the silicone pad, with neat edges and a moderate depth.

He had practiced on this type of module in school, in the General Surgery Department, and in the Emergency Department, where he performed it on actual patients every day.

He picked up the needle holder and felt its weight in his hand.

The quality of the instruments was quite good, better than those at their Hospital.

Beside him, Zhou Wenjie was also preparing.

His movements were calm; he was clearly very familiar with this operating setup, as this was, after all, his home turf.

Lu Chen noticed that Zhou Wenjie adjusted the angle and grip of his wrist when holding the needle holder.

This was a habit of experienced surgeons: finding the most comfortable grip before beginning the operation.

The people in the Conference Room gathered around.

Several Attending Physicians from Central Hospital stood behind Lu Chen with mixed expressions.

Some were worried, some curious, and some felt this kid was ridiculously bold.

He Wenbin leaned over to Wu Fan and whispered.

"Do you think he can do it?"

Wu Fan didn't answer, only watching Lu Chen's hands.

He didn't know Lu Chen well, but he had heard about this Resident Trainee's performance in the Emergency Department.

If those rumors were true, his Suturing level shouldn't be bad at all.

As for whether he could beat someone who had won a provincial silver award, that was hard to say.

On the Guangfu Hospital side, the atmosphere was much more relaxed.

Their young doctors almost all had expressions of watching a show.

Director Qian Fangxu stood in the middle and raised his hand.

"Are you ready?"

"Ready."

Both of them answered simultaneously.

"Begin."

Director Qian Fangxu's hand dropped.

Both sides moved at the same time.

Zhou Wenjie moved first.

His needle entry was very standard and the angle precise. When the first stitch landed, the Guangfu Hospital doctors nearby were already nodding slightly.

The stitch spacing was about 3 millimeters, the needle depth just right through the simulated dermis layer, and the needle exit was crisp with no wasted movement.

After completing the first stitch, he tied a standard surgical square knot with moderate tension and trimmed the thread ends with scissors.

The entire process was very smooth; it was clear he had spent a lot of time practicing.

But just as he completed the first stitch, a slight sound came from the operating table next to him.

Lu Chen was moving too.

His way of moving was quite different from Zhou Wenjie's.

There was no deliberate sense of fluidity, nor that textbook-style posture.

His grip on the needle holder was very relaxed, so relaxed it looked almost casual.

But when his first stitch landed, Wu Fan, who was standing nearby, felt his pupils contract slightly.

Because he had seen something.

Lu Chen's needle entry angle was almost as precise as Zhou Wenjie's, but his speed was nearly twice as fast.

First stitch: needle in, needle out, knot tied, thread cut.

Done.

The time taken was about half of Zhou Wenjie's.

And his stitch spacing control wasn't "about 3 millimeters"—it was exactly 3 millimeters.

Wu Fan leaned forward to take a closer look at the stitch spacing.

It was unnaturally uniform.

The distance between every single stitch was almost identical, as if it had been measured with a ruler.

Yet Lu Chen clearly hadn't measured it.

His eyes had never left the operating surface, and his hands had never paused.

Second stitch.

Third stitch.

Fourth stitch.

The speed was stable, the rhythm was stable, and the quality of every stitch was stable.

Not a single stitch showed even the slightest deviation.

In Lu Chen's mind, the system's auxiliary information was constantly refreshing.

But he didn't look.

He didn't need to look.

Perfect-level Suturing had already been internalized into his muscle memory.

Every movement—the angle of needle entry, the depth through the tissue, the position of needle exit, the tension of the knot—was the optimal solution calibrated by the system.

His hands didn't need to think; they only needed to execute.

Furthermore, he still had that permanent buff.

[newcomer: surgical blade: When performing surgery, hand stability is permanently increased by 10%.]

This 10% increase in stability might not be obvious in daily operations.

But in this high-precision Suturing comparison, the gap was very intuitive.

His hands were unnaturally steady.

When Zhou Wenjie was sewing the fifth stitch, he glanced out of the corner of his eye.

Upon this glance, his movements paused slightly.

Because he discovered that Lu Chen was already sewing the eighth stitch.

It wasn't because Lu Chen's incision was shorter; the modules in front of both of them were exactly the same.

It was because Lu Chen's speed was so much faster.

And what made him even more uncomfortable was that he could see the stitches Lu Chen had sewn.

Neat.

Unrealistically neat.

The edge approximation of every stitch was almost perfect; the two sides of the skin were aligned seamlessly without any misalignment.

The stitch spacing was uniform, the tension was consistent, and the knots were the same size.

This was not a level a Resident Trainee should have.

This wasn't even a level a normal Attending Physician should have.

Zhou Wenjie exerted a little more force on the needle holder.

He forced himself not to look over and to focus on his own operation.

But it was already a bit too late.

Because the atmosphere in the Conference Room had already started to change.

The young doctors from Guangfu Hospital, who had originally been watching the show, saw their smiles disappear one by one.

Replaced by confusion.

Then shock.

Then silence.

Director Qian Fangxu stood in the middle, his gaze shifting back and forth between the two operating tables.

At the beginning, he had watched with a calm smile because he had great confidence in Zhou Wenjie's level.

But from the moment Lu Chen started the sixth stitch, his smile disappeared.

He saw Lu Chen's Suturing technique.

As an old expert who had worked in the Emergency Department for over twenty years, he had seen all kinds of Suturing.

Good ones, bad ones, sloppy ones, detailed ones.

But for this young man's Suturing in front of him, he could only use two words to describe it.

Perfect.

Not good, not excellent, but perfect.

There was nothing to criticize in any of the stitches.

The needle entry angle was so precise it made people suspect he had a navigation system installed in his hand.

The needle exit position was always at the theoretically optimal point.

The accuracy of edge approximation had already reached the standard of the Plastic Surgery Department.

And his speed was ridiculously fast.

Director Qian Fangxu's gaze moved from the operating table to Lu Chen's face.

This young man's expression hadn't changed at all since before he started.

No nervousness, no excitement, no tension.

Calm.

Extremely calm.

It was as if he wasn't doing some technical competition, but just treating an ordinary traumatic laceration while on duty.

This kind of calmness made Director Qian Fangxu feel more uneasy than his technique.

For a Resident Trainee to show this level of calmness when challenged face-to-face by a provincial silver award winner, there were only two possibilities.

Either he was a heartless, foolhardy person.

Or his strength far exceeded that of his opponent.

Judging from the current operation, the answer was obvious.