Three o'clock in the morning.
The surgery finally ended.
Looking at the patient wrapped tightly all over with thick bandages on their head and chest, Zhao Heng said to Liu Ziang, "Whether they can pull through post-operation depends on fate."
Doctors aren't gods; being able to snatch this patient from the jaws of death even once is already remarkable.
Thinking about it, opening the chest and cranium is such an operation, unimaginable in the past.
"Senior, I've found that if it's you on the night shift, I definitely won't have any leisure time."
Zhao Heng complained to Liu Ziang.
"Alright, come to my place later. I'll treat you to a midnight snack, Dr. Jiang, you too."
Liu Ziang smiled and said.
As a surgeon, who wouldn't want a reliable anesthesiologist like Zhao Heng as an assistant?
It can be said that in Liu Ziang's heart, Zhao Heng is now definitely a gold-tier assistant.
"Sure."
