Zhou Yanqing continued methodically suturing the tofu strips he had cut, performing the four steps of insertion, passage, withdrawal, and knotting with precision. Using his thumb and middle finger, he expertly wielded the scissors to trim the thread after each knot.
Once he finished suturing a single incision, his classmate Guo Congyu finally snapped out of his daze and looked at the tofu.
The insertion and exit points were as precise as tiny eel burrows, just enough for the thread to pass through without cutting into the tofu or causing it to tear under tension. The knots were neatly offset to one side, spaced as if measured with a ruler.
Zhou's control over the tofu sutures was impeccable—he had successfully mastered the tofu suturing stage.
"Ah... this..." Guo Congyu's tongue trembled as he tried to form words.
Even with the evidence right in front of him—a flawlessly sutured 1cm-deep tofu layer—Guo struggled to accept it.
As classmates from the same university, department, and training room, some differences in progress were expected. Being slightly ahead or behind wasn't unusual.
The gap between partial-thickness and full-thickness orange peel sutures wasn't insurmountable, and Guo had managed to catch up to Zhou and Liu Dongyang in mastering partial-thickness sutures during their second year of their master's program.
Yesterday, Guo had finally achieved this milestone and felt confident that they were back on equal footing. But now, Zhou had leapt far ahead, mastering tofu sutures—a massive jump in skill.
"Guo-ge, time to get back to work," Zhou said, tapping the operating table lightly with his needle holder to remind him.
Staring wasn't going to accomplish anything, and Zhou found being under Guo's intense gaze equally awkward.
"Right! Back to it!" Guo exclaimed, his round face serious as he hurried back to his station, his steps flustered.
Zhou let out a shallow breath after finishing his suture.
At his previous skill level (Proficient 2/3), he could complete partial-thickness orange peel sutures but found tofu sutures challenging due to the need for precise control over force and angles.
Now, at (Specialized 1/5), he found 1cm-deep tofu sutures not only manageable but surprisingly effortless. He even felt confident enough to attempt 0.4cm shallow sutures on soft tofu—a notoriously delicate task.
The training materials in the lab were like a meticulously arranged ladder of challenges:
Rubber practice skins Full- and partial-thickness orange peels Deep and shallow tofu layers
In suturing, the shallower the depth, the harder the task. Soft tofu sutures, in particular, demanded extreme precision.
Feeling capable, Zhou decided to try shallow sutures on tofu. Even if he failed, the cost was minimal—half a block of tofu and a single yuan.
The purpose of the training room was to allow endless trial and error without risk to patients.
As time passed, more hand surgery residents trickled into the training room.
"Qin-ge, you must be close to the OR standard by now, right?" asked Tang Wenquan, a burly first-year master's student, as he entered alongside Zhu Qin. His tone was eager to please.
Zhu Qin, a new hire in the department and a hand surgery PhD from Xiangya Hospital, stood a compact 1.7 meters tall, with dark skin and a robust, efficient demeanor.
Although Tang was taller, hand surgery valued skill over height or looks.
Zhu Qin chuckled, rubbing his nose. "Your flattery's a bit sloppy. Be specific—OR standard for what?"
"For skin flaps, I'm ready now. But for tendon sutures, I still need to progress from frozen skin to elastic bands before I can assist seniors. As for vascular and nerve sutures, those will take another seven or eight years of practice."
Suturing was a fundamental skill, easily learned but hard to master. The hand surgery department had extremely high standards, requiring even senior physicians to pass multiple levels of skill validation in the training room.
This wasn't about making things difficult but ensuring the best possible outcomes for patients, as hand function was crucial to daily life.
"Mastering sutures is simple at first, but we're hand surgery's 'master ladle handlers.' We need to make our skills long and steady, just like a ladle." Zhu Qin's analogy, brought over from Xiangya, likened a surgeon's expertise to a well-crafted ladle—strong, reliable, and versatile.
"Qin-ge, you're amazing. I'm still struggling with orange peels and haven't even sutured skin on the operating table yet," Tang Wenquan admitted, his envy clear.
Zhu Qin smiled slyly. "Take your time. No one becomes a 'master ladle handler' overnight."
Tang nodded vigorously, then turned to call out, "Guo-shixiong, Zhou-shixiong!"
Zhu Qin approached Guo Congyu's station, observing for a moment before offering advice. "For full-thickness orange peel sutures, focus on force control during insertion, withdrawal, and knotting. Partial-thickness sutures require even finer control of force distribution and angles. Tofu sutures demand fluidity—hesitation is your enemy."
Seeing Guo's latest suture tear the tofu again, Zhu added, "Your sutures keep breaking because your force isn't consistent or your angle is off. Keep it even and steady throughout."
"Thank you, Qin-ge. I've already ordered coffee for you," Guo replied, setting down his needle holder.
Zhu Qin, a frequent visitor to the training room, was respected by all the juniors, who treated him as a mentor. His guidance often earned him free coffee or drinks several times a week.
"Mastering sutures isn't about coffee," Zhu replied, smiling. "It's about internalizing the theory through practice—developing true skill in your hands."
Gesturing toward Zhou, Zhu continued, "Take Xiao Zhou, for example. He's at your level but makes different mistakes than you..."
Mid-sentence, Zhu's eyes widened as he noticed Zhou's deft movements at the next station.
"Wait... is that shallow tofu suturing?" Zhu gasped, momentarily stunned.
Zhou looked up with a small smile, acknowledging the observation.
Zhu, whose dark complexion now seemed almost pale, muttered, "Your skills... they're incredible!"
The others in the room—Guo Congyu, Fan Ziwei, and Tang Wenquan—were so shocked their legs quivered involuntarily.
Guo's sudden movement caused an audible "rip" in his trousers.
All eyes turned to Guo, who instinctively clutched his lab coat and fled the room, shouting, "I'll be right back—don't want to scare the bugs with my big bird!"
For a moment, Guo's wardrobe malfunction stole the spotlight, even eclipsing Zhou's remarkable leap in skill.