When newcomers like Zhaxi were tirelessly training, Zhang Lin and Little Five received invitations from the City People’s Hospital, inviting them to become Department Directors.

Zhang Lin was appointed as the Director of Spinal Surgery, and Little Five as the Director of Joint and Trauma Surgery. The two departments were parallel and independent, without any hierarchical relationship.

In the Sanbo Research Institute, Zhang Lin and Little Five were always the least conspicuous ones.

It sounds a bit harsh to say, but that’s the reality—there’s never a shortage of geniuses in the institute. Song Zimo, Xu Zhiliang, Xia Shu... these people seemed to be chosen by heaven, with talent, perception, and skill all written in their genes. With just one move, you could tell they were meant for this career.

Zhang Lin and Little Five were not those kinds of people. They were just ordinary folks.

They weren’t unmotivated. On the contrary, they were probably the most hardworking people in the institute.

Zhang Lin arrived at the department at 6 a.m. every day, earlier than the on-call nurses. He would take out the previous day’s surgery records and meticulously review each one, breaking down every step taken by the chief surgeon and writing them in his notebook. He wrote slowly but neatly, sketching diagrams after each step, with arrows, circles, and dashed lines clearly marking the anatomical structures and operational paths. He filled up his notebooks quickly, needing a new one every month, and each was packed full, like a hand-drawn surgical atlas.

Little Five showed a different kind of effort. To memorize essential knowledge, he invented his own mnemonic methods, turning key information into catchy, rhyming, and sometimes humorous chants. He had mnemonics for anatomical structures, surgical procedures, and even complication management. He recited them while walking, eating, and even on the toilet. His peers teased him, calling him the "Mnemonic Doctor," and he laughed along with them, continuing his recitations after.

But sometimes effort alone isn’t enough.

No matter how hard they worked, they always lagged at the end of the institute. What took them over ten days of diligence to learn, others might grasp in just a few hours.

With this frustration, the two sat on the institute’s rooftop, each with a can of beer.

"Do you think we maybe aren’t cut out to be surgeons?" Zhang Lin suddenly asked.

Little Five didn’t answer, taking a sip of the beer, which was warm and bitter.

"Look at Song Zimo and Xu Zhiliang," Zhang Lin continued, "they memorize after one glance, while we can’t even after ten. Their movements on the operating table are fluid and smooth, whereas we fumble in the training room. They’re already Professor Yang’s right-hand people, while we’re still just assistants holding retractors, even struggling to hand instruments correctly."

Little Five placed the beer can on his knee, gazing at the distant lights, flickering like they were breathing.

"Do you remember what Professor Yang said?" Little Five said. "He told us that there are two types of surgeons. One type is the genius, the God’s favorite, with innate hand-eye coordination, learning everything quickly. The other type is the craftsman, without innate talent, mastering skills through repetition, developing touch and judgment through practice. Whether genius or craftsman, the goal is to perform the surgery well."

"We’re the craftsman type!" Little Five exclaimed. "Being a bit slow or dim isn’t an issue, as long as we keep moving forward, we’ll eventually reach our destination."

Zhang Lin was silent for a long time, then he lifted his can to clink against Little Five’s. The aluminum cans made a dull sound, not a crisp one, but solid.

"Then we’ll take our time," Zhang Lin said.

...

And that’s exactly how they continued, slowly but steadily.

The decision to pursue a part-time doctorate was made together. When Yang Ping learned about it, he asked, "Are you sure? Part-time doctorates are not like full-time ones. You have to work during the day, attend classes on weekends, and work on research projects at night, with no rest for three years."

Zhang Lin said, "We are sure."

Little Five said, "We’re not afraid of being tired."

Yang Ping looked at them and nodded, his eyes full of encouragement.

These three years were indeed the toughest of their lives.

During the day, they worked in the hospital, doing rounds, performing surgeries, managing patients, and writing medical records, missing nothing. In the afternoon, they practiced basic skills in the training room without fail. On weekends, they attended classes at the medical school, listening to professors discuss basic theories, cutting-edge advancements, and research methods. At night, they immersed themselves in the library, researching literature, writing papers, and conducting data analysis. Their sleep was reduced to four or five hours a day, sometimes falling asleep against the wall of the duty room or at their computer, waking with keyboard imprints on their faces.

In addition to this, they each held administrative roles in their departments. Zhang Lin was the teaching secretary, managing interns, standardized training students, and visiting doctors, while Little Five was responsible for external liaison, overseeing all academic conferences, visits, and collaborations.

Regarding their department, they avoided mainstream topics and chose to focus intensively on retractor techniques.

For this, they were ridiculed countless times.

Song Zimo had already become an associate chief physician, independently performing thousands of surgeries and publishing more than a dozen papers in key journals. Meanwhile, they were still repeatedly verifying data for a single paper and stayed late in the training room perfecting a surgical step. People whispered behind their backs, "Zhang Lin and Little Five are just dragging down the institute. If not for Professor Yang’s support, they’d have been eliminated long ago." Some even joked in their faces, "Why do you two work so hard? No matter your effort, you can’t match the geniuses."