A pair of gold-rimmed glasses is perched on the high bridge of his nose, the lenses glinting white under the light. Behind them, thick dark lashes droop, curling into soft curves.
Just those barely visible eyes alone are stunningly beautiful.
In his half-closed eyes, a grayish reflection, as thin as water.
The pupils deeply understand the dark, giving a sense of indifference to people.
As if he had not just experienced a moment between life and death.
His movements are quick and decisive, as though no problem is too difficult for him to handle.
If you do not look at the bloody incisions below, just his movements would appear to be a visual treat.
He does not raise his head throughout.
"Drainage tube."
His icy voice sends a chill through the listener, as though frost is forming on the surface of your skin.
The trainee nurse tenses nervously, wishing for more ears, afraid to miss any word uttered by the doctor.
Her excitement outweighs her nervousness.
Especially under that circumstance, the boy was almost halfway into Ghost Gate, but just as Doctor Fu arrived, he was pulled back.
He doesn't lift his head, and his calm and indifferent voice echoes in the otherwise silent operating room from time to time.
"Vascular clamp."
The hand gripping the scalpel is extremely steady, and the movements are quick and decisive, making people inexplicably feel shivers down their spine.
His dark pupils stare at the bloody, confused incision below, and the depths of his eyes are like a stagnant pool, thick black and quiet.
But his hands below still operate methodically.
His scalpel slices at the most precise angle, his hands are stained with blood, and his overly indifferent expression gives people the sense that he seems more like a killer than a doctor.
"Electrocautery."
"Bipolar Forceps."
"Local hemostatic agent."
"Suction."
"Suture."
"..."
Time ticked away, minute by minute.
Despite performing the difficult heart surgery, the entire process went incredibly smoothly, with no room for error.
After a while.
"Doctor Fu, the vital signs are back to normal."
An accompanying physician took one glance at the ECG monitor and reminded softly. This isn't unexpected. For other doctors, this operation may be considered major. But for Doctor Fu… it isn't much work at all.
The man doesn't raise his head: "Hmm."
His hands never stop moving.
From start to finish of the surgery, three hours passed.
Finally, he puts down the scalpel and retreats from the operating table.
He removes the bloody gloves off his hands and turns to one of the medical personnel, saying,
"Assistant Zhou, bring me the surgical records later. The ECG monitor should not be removed for now."
The man's tone is indifferent, giving others the idea that what he just did was not a life-saving event.
Although overly cold.
The initially stooped assistant straightened up upon command, his tension causing his teeth to chatter, "Alright, Doctor Fu."
Fu Chi doesn't speak further, turning to leave.
Only when the tall figure leaves the room does everyone else in the operating theater finally breathe a sigh of relief. Cold sweat breaks out on their foreheads. The battle between life and death has concluded.
...
Upon leaving the operating room, he removes the mask on his face, revealing his entire face.
The sagging side face has an extremely perfect contour, his skin much fairer than the average person, like top-grade mutton-fat jade, without a trace of flaw.
Behind the glasses, a pair of thin and long phoenix eyes exude exceptional beauty. Perhaps because of fatigue, there's hardly any light in his deep-colored pupils, full of inhuman indifference.
His lips are thin, yet red.
Not seeing the full face, his distant appearance exudes an indifferent and nonchalant air.
However, coupled with those slightly flirtatious lips, a hint of alluring charm is outlined on his otherwise frigid and indifferent face.
The corridor is unusually quiet, and he walks slowly.
Returning to his office, he changes into a pristine white lab coat, making his figure all the more upright and slender.