The sound of surgical slippers pattering through the hallway rang out, and before long, Zhao Huaming, with his temples streaked with white, appeared at the door. His pupils constricted, and upon clearly seeing that it was his grandson lying on the operating table, Zhao Huaming's vision went dark, and he nearly fainted.
The anesthetized patient's heartbeat was stable, but everyone else's was not. It was all too clear what could happen with Zhao Huaming's arrival. Pairs of eyes turned towards the Chief Surgeon.
Tao Zhijie's hands moved swiftly, his rhythm smooth, and there was a calmness upon his brow outside the mask.
A few assistants followed his rhythm, no one turning their heads to look at Zhao Huaming. Obviously, the Chief Surgeon did not allow it.
"Dr. Tao—" Zhao Huaming hesitantly squeezed out a voice, what he was about to say seemed completely unclear to him; otherwise, he would have run back to the hospital and explained everything to Tao Zhijie already.
