Song Zimo, Xu Zhiliang, and Xia Shu have all left the institute. Yang Ping stood at the office window for almost ten minutes.
Downstairs on the lawn, twenty young people stood. They wore brand new white gowns; so were whispering to the person next to them, so were looking up at the building, and so were looking down at their phones.
Twenty people, standing sowhat haphazardly, but all young.
Yang Ping thought of a few years ago, Song Zimo and Xu Zhiliang followed him to the Sanbo Research Institute, starting from scratch, step by step.
At that ti, this building was still called the "Comprehensive Surgical Research Institute."
Later, Xia Shu also ca.
Now none of them are here.
Song Zimo went to the ergency departnt, creating the world’s first composite ergency departnt. Xu Zhiliang was in neurosurgery, doing those brainstem surgeries that others dared not attempt, Mayo Clinic experts specially flew over to watch him operate. Xia Shu was in cardiac surgery, with Li Zehui, making Sanbo cardiac surgery world-class.
The door was knocked.
"Co in!"
The door opened, and in ca Li Guodong, a few years ago he was still a master’s student, now he’s passed Yang Ping’s doctoral exam, wearing a white gown, walking briskly, holding a list.
"Professor!" Li Guodong walked to the window with great respect, "They’re all here, twenty of them."
Yang Ping nodded.
"How is their educational background?"
Li Guodong handed over the list. The first page was a summary of personal information, the second was a ranking of college entrance examination scores, the third was a list of papers during the doctoral period. Yang Ping first looked at the second page, this is what he valued most. College entrance exam results represent a person’s genuine learning ability, it’s hard to fake, and hard to package. Over the years, countless people have tried to get their kids in here through various connections and backgrounds, but without passing the college entrance exam threshold, it was useless.
"Eight from Xiehe Hospital, five from Beijing dical University, three from Fudan University, two from Huaxi Hospital, two from Nandu." Li Guodong said, "All are on the eight-year track, with specialties evenly distributed: three cardiac, two neuro, four general surgery, two ergency, two critical care, two thoracic, and five others."
Yang Ping looked at each individually. The eight from Xiehe Hospital, their college entrance scores were all within the province’s top hundred. The five from Beijing dical University were top students. Fudan, Huaxi, Nandu, none scored below 680 points.
In his mind, he made a simple ranking.
"Let them in." Yang Ping returned the list to Li Guodong.
In the eting room, twenty people sat neatly. The table was oval, and they sat in a circle around it, each wearing a white gown, with new badges pinned to their chests.
When Yang Ping pushed the door open, everyone stood up.
So chairs emitted a piercing scraping sound, so were so nervous they crumpled their notebooks, and so sneaked a look at the young double Nobel Prize winner.
Yang Ping waved his hand.
"Sit."
They sat down, so taking deep breaths, so adjusting their posture, so lowering their heads, not daring to look at him.
Yang Ping sat in the main seat, looking at them.
Twenty people, twenty young faces, so nervous, so excited, so pretending to be calm, so unable to hide curiosity.
Yang Ping said, "You were able to co here because you were excellent enough."
He paused.
"However, the past excellence has beco history; I hope you will be more excellent now and in the future."
The eting room was very quiet.
"From today onwards, you need to bring the sa enthusiasm as you had during the college entrance exam," Yang Ping’s voice wasn’t loud, but every word was clear, "In six years, cultivate yourself into world-class doctors, I an world-class."
He saw the eyes of several young people light up.
"Like Song Zimo, Xu Zhiliang, Xia Shu."
Everyone knew of these people, they were the idols in their hearts.
"When they first ca, they were like you," Yang Ping said, "Through several years of learning..."
He paused again.
"Now Song Zimo is the director of the large ergency departnt, a world-class composite ergency talent, creating the world’s first composite ergency center."
"Xu Zhiliang, has perford over three hundred brainstem tumor surgeries, with a success rate of ninety-two percent. He is now the director of neurosurgery, specializing in surgeries others dare not perform. Mayo Clinic plans to send a team over to train with him for three months."
"Xia Shu, he resigned from Fuwai Hospital to join, worked with on thousands of surgeries. He is now the deputy director of cardiac surgery, with Li Zehui, making Sanbo cardiac surgery world-class."
He walked back to his seat and sat down.
"You too can beco like them," Yang Ping said, "Beco world-class doctors."
He looked at them, his gaze moving from one face to another.
"Why did they grow so fast?"
Soone couldn’t help but ask, "Why?"
Yang Ping looked at the young questioner, glasses, round face, eyes curious.
"Take notes," Yang Ping said, "Preview, learn, review, cycle through, refine your theory and practice through repeated hamring, be full of interest and passion in your profession."
The young man was stunned.
Yang Ping took out a notebook from the drawer, tossed it on the table.
It was a very old notebook, the cover dark blue, worn to white, edges frayed, spine cracked, held together with yellowing transparent tape, on the cover written three words in black ink: Song Zimo.
"This is Song Zimo’s first notebook," Yang Ping said, "You can take a look."
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