As Guan Xing raised his cold, gleaming scalpel, an innate, familiar sensation instantly coursed through every nerve and sense in his body. In that moment, he was completely immersed in the surgery.
This was the most direct requirement the Guan Family Medical Classic demanded of a physician: absolute focus and presence in every operation.
Guan Xing knew his family lineage traced back to the legendary general Guan Yu of the Three Kingdoms. Since Guan Yu's famed bone-scraping surgery, the Guan family had cultivated a deep interest in medicine. The family had also received the Divine Medical Classic from Hua Tuo, a treasure alongside the family's martial arts manuals.
After centuries of accumulation and research, Guan Xing's generation had synthesized traditional Chinese medicine, Western medicine, and refined ancient techniques, achieving a new level of the Guan family medical method. His mastery of Guan family martial arts also allowed him to perfect the "Three-Star Flowing Needle" technique, a dream of countless physicians.
His practice had been honed on Death Island, treating black-market fighters. Each rescue brought not only vast rewards but also opportunities to sharpen his skills. Many perished under clandestine conditions, but Guan Xing thrived. Over five years, the timid university student became a cold, iron-willed doctor.
The legend of the "Eastern Miracle Doctor" had one of its most shocking moments when Guan Xing, under duress, performed three separate heart transplants simultaneously in one operating room. Three hearts, three patients, no time for compatibility tests—yet he succeeded, saving the lives of three billionaires. From that day, the legend of the Eastern Miracle Doctor spread from Paradise Island to the Western world.
In the operating room, a physician must remain detached, regardless of the patient's age or gender. Excellence in medicine demands this emotional coldness.
The scalpel cut a perfect oblique incision into the stomach: precise, deliberate, nothing more, nothing less. Blood flowed steadily, and the motion of his arms demonstrated the hallmark of a masterful "one-cut" surgery. Many could attempt it, few could achieve such perfection.
Director Zhang whispered to Xi Hengsheng, "This young man… where did he learn such skills? Incredible."
Even the experienced observers could see the gap. Guan Xing remained calm, but Du Juan was sweating. For a young woman with no prior surgical experience, witnessing raw blood and cancerous tissue was overwhelming.
Guan Xing didn't allow her time to hesitate—stress was part of the lesson.
"Bone forceps," he instructed. The instrument was handed over promptly, evidence of Du Juan's secret preparation and innate talent.
Guan Xing exposed the stomach tissue. The cancerous area oozed yellowish fluid, already metastasizing to the lungs. He had anticipated this possibility—the three-day progression had been alarming.
Three assisting doctors were visibly shaken. One stepped forward and asked, "Dr. Guan, the cancer has spread beyond expectations. Should we halt the surgery?"
The news spread quickly. The elder director and two senior observers murmured among themselves. Finally, the old director spoke: "Dr. Guan, if the patient's condition becomes unmanageable, please end the surgery. We will decide next steps afterward."
Everyone outside the room knew the gravity of the situation. The patient's relatives were horrified. The dual-organ metastasis of stomach and lung cancer was nearly a death sentence.
The family cried openly. Fang Jie comforted them, her face etched with worry, yet she forced a brave expression: "Don't worry. As long as Dr. Guan doesn't give up, Lin still has hope."
This was an unexpected complication. Even if Guan Xing stopped, no one would blame him. A combined stomach-lung cancer of this severity was beyond the capability of any doctor in China.
All eyes awaited Guan Xing's decision. Four words could end everything: Stop the surgery.
"Dr. Guan—" Du Juan's voice trembled. She understood the implication: failure to act now meant certain death. She raised her hands near the instrument tray, silently readying herself.
Guan Xing paused ten seconds—the maximum time he allowed himself for consideration. Then he scanned the five observers in the room and spoke coldly:
"Continue the surgery. Prepare the epinephrine. Prepare blood for transfusion immediately."
He had no retreat. If he stopped now, the patient would surely die. The cancer had spread to two organs; even a future surgery would be impossible in such a timeframe. With the current rate of metastasis, the patient had at most a week to live.
Xi Hengsheng, hearing his friend's unwavering resolve, felt anxious. Stopping seemed rational, yet Guan Xing chose to proceed.
One elder, holding back the old director, said, "Boss Xi, let this young doctor continue. He's the patient's only hope. Even if the surgery fails, we will take full responsibility."
At this point, the surgery was no longer about eighty percent success—it was a near-impossible, life-or-death miracle.
"Boss Xi, this is Huang Lao, head of the Chinese Cancer Association, my former mentor. Since he supports this, we needn't worry," Director Zhang added.
Zhang had invited two of the most renowned cancer experts in China to observe and provide guidance if necessary. Yet no one could anticipate how events would unfold.
Guan Xing's resolve electrified everyone in the room, including Du Juan. The intensity of his determination stirred a mix of admiration and secret affection in her young heart.
The situation had grown complex. Guan Xing had to recalibrate his surgical strategy entirely.
He began with a thoracic isolation procedure, preventing further spread of cancer during surgery. The patient's body was like a minefield—extremely fragile.
The only person speaking in the room was Guan Xing—directing instruments, coordinating doctors, and guiding Du Juan. Despite her inexperience, Du Juan's dexterity, innate talent, and countless hours of secret practice allowed her to keep pace with Guan Xing's instructions. She wasn't perfect, but Guan Xing was satisfied. She was worth nurturing.
Everything proceeded in an orderly manner. Guan Xing now faced two major challenges: first, excising the cancerous tissue and isolating the lungs; second, preventing secondary infection while adjusting cardiac function to minimize activity. This was life-saving work—managing the heart, the body's core, within a critical twenty-minute window.
"Adjust cardiac rhythm: lowest ten beats per minute. Monitor closely, maintain steady pacing," Guan Xing commanded.
Outside the glass window, several observers broke into cold sweats. They knew Guan Xing had begun what the medical world called the "Sanctuary Light Journey"—an unprecedented, pioneering procedure.