White armor

Chapter 766 That person was nagging in my ear
Li Qiubo also witnessed this scene, and his face instantly turned a deep liver color, with the veins on his forehead throbbing.

He suddenly ripped off his name tag and slammed it on the table. The loud "smack" silenced the entire pharmacy instantly.

"Good, very good!" His voice sounded like it was being squeezed out from between his teeth, each word sharp and cutting. "So now you've all learned how to fleece your patients, huh?!"

He snatched the pharmacist's phone, his fingers trembling with anger.

The glaring Pinduoduo interface was still cheerfully flashing the "Price Cut Successful" animation. Li Qiubo stared at the screen, suddenly let out a cold laugh, and slammed his phone to the ground with a loud "Bang!"

The phone shattered into several pieces on the ground, bouncing and sliding into a corner.

The rice cooker advertisement stubbornly stayed lit for another second before finally going out.

"Didn't you want a rice cooker?" Li Qiubo's voice suddenly became eerily calm. "You can go get it now."

Luo Hao also felt helpless, but his attention drifted to the far distance.

Isn't it said that there's no success rate for Pinduoduo's "cut one" feature? There was a streamer who gathered tens of thousands of people to try and cut one, but they still failed.

How come it worked after Uncle Lin Yuming made a single cut?
The air in the pharmacy seemed to freeze. Several young nurses took a half step back in fright, and an intern's medicine clattered to the floor.

Li Qiubo turned to the crowd, flicking the hem of his white coat: "From today onwards, if anything like this happens again at Donglian Mine—" He paused, his gaze sweeping across each face, "every single one of you, get out of here!"

He turned and walked away, his leather shoes crunching on the shattered phone. He stopped abruptly at the door, adding without turning back, "Tell your director to come see me."

Li Qiubo returned to Luo Hao's side, somewhat helpless.

"Xiao Luo, you know how well our hospital is usually managed. I don't know what happened today."

"Hey, there are all sorts of birds in a big forest, I know that." Luo Hao smiled, not bothering to comment on such a trivial matter.

This is a family scandal, and it's best not to air it in public.

Luo Hao walked out of the clinic as if nothing had happened. Chen Yong's face looked terrible through his mask. He sat in the driver's seat of the Peugeot 307, his mask constantly shifting.

He must be suffering from road rage. Every family has its own troubles, Luo Hao thought to himself.

This is really true.

"Then I'll be going now." Luo Hao reached out and shook hands with Li Qiubo, then hugged Lin Yuming and whispered a few words in her ear.

There's no way to be jealous of this; it's all about who's the boss, Li Qiubo comforted himself.

After getting in the truck and replacing Chen Yong, Luo Hao led the convoy of trucks away slowly.

"The surgery went very smoothly, especially the 4K screen, it looked really clear." Chen Yong's mood returned to normal the moment he sat in the passenger seat, commenting on the remote surgery.

“Yeah, the 10x scopes we usually use for surgery always have some issues,” Luo Hao said. “It’s much more comfortable watching on a big screen.”

"Some details can be clearly seen on the big screen, you know what I mean."

"I understand." Chen Yong nodded. "To be honest, I don't think the others are that great, but the 4K screen definitely looks amazing!"

Chen Yong was generous with his praise, especially commending Luo Hao for creating the 4K large screen.

Luo Hao also knew that the more intuitive the equipment, the easier it would be to be accepted, and that the 4K large screen was not just for show; it could make surgery easier.

The setting sun paved the Suiman Expressway into a road of molten gold.

Luo Hao squinted and raised his hand to press the sunshade down further.

The setting sun hung over the end of the highway, like a red-hot iron ball falling onto the windshield.

The light was so intense that even the air vents of the 307 were coated with an orange-red hue, and the dashboard shimmered with a blurry fluorescence in the bright light.

Luo Hao had to tilt his head slightly, letting the shadow of the rearview mirror obscure part of his view—the outlines of the three vans were reduced to black silhouettes in the backlight, like three moving monuments.

"You're just making things difficult for yourself," Chen Yong joked.

Luo Hao shrugged, neither confirming nor denying.

Light pierced through every crevice.

The edges of the rearview mirror were burning, the chrome strip on the steering wheel was burning, and even the metal buckle of the seat belt had become a scorching hot spot.

Luo Hao's eyelashes turned into translucent golden threads in the bright light, and every blink was like switching filters—one second he could see the reflection of the cargo box roof piercing the sky, and the next second he was trapped in the blue afterimage left on his retina.

"Professor Luo, would you like to change your sunglasses?" Chen Yong asked, imitating "Xiao Meng's" voice.

The title "Professor Luo" carried a hint of sarcasm.

Luo Hao nodded, then suddenly realized that this action was pointless in an empty car. He reached into the storage compartment and put on his sunglasses.

When I put it on, the world suddenly sank into darkness, and I could see that the fine cracks on the asphalt road were filled with golden liquid by the setting sun, like countless miniature lava rivers.

The eastbound lane is the most magical part.

All the oncoming vehicles turned into black silhouettes, their windshields reflecting a dazzling white light, like a river composed of countless mirrors.

On their westbound lane, 307, carrying three box trucks, was plunging headlong into the heart of the sun, the dust kicked up by the tires forming golden swirls in the sidelight.

"I knew you were a dog, but I didn't expect you to be this much of a dog," Chen Yong laughed. "I always thought there was something wrong with you driving a Peugeot."

"Back then, I could only afford a Peugeot. When I was in Beijing, Director Qian took in a seriously ill patient. His family were contractors, the kind that were close to the upstream. After I treated them to a meal, one of his underlings gave me a big red envelope."

"Oh? You accepted it?"

"Director Qian told me to accept the patient. The surgery is already completed, and the patient needs to be discharged."

Chen Yong knew that the red envelopes given at this time were different from those given before the surgery, but then he realized the flaw in Luo Hao's words, and a sneer appeared on his lips.

"Luo Hao, are you trying to fool your mother and your uncle with this story?" Chen Yong asked.

Luo Hao was taken aback for a moment, but then realized that Chen Yong had discovered the flaw in his plan. He wasn't embarrassed and just laughed.

"Can this equipment be used on the Cat Car in the future?" Chen Yong suddenly asked.

"Yes," Luo Hao replied affirmatively.

Chen Yong immediately became interested and began questioning him.

Luo Hao only had a general direction, after all, he had never been to the front line and the data samples were scarce. It was already amazing that he could find a general direction through exploration.

"In the future, we will try to reduce some equipment, make it lighter and faster, and also improve satellite signals and AI robots to perform surgery autonomously after the signals are blocked, etc."

"Aren't you worried anymore?"

"On the front lines, saving lives is always the top priority. There's no need to worry about being sued, so you can act freely," Luo Hao said. "Actually, some basic surgeries can still be performed now."

"What can we do about the lack of information on gunshot wounds?"

“My senior brother in the US is sending me data on the gunshot wounds,” Luo Hao said calmly.

Chen Yong raised his eyebrows, but didn't ask any further questions about the matter.

Many people from Peking Union Medical College go abroad to work or settle down. With such a large population base, even if the United States wanted to absorb all the top talents, it simply couldn't do it.

It seems reasonable that the people on the other side would send back information about the gunshot wounds.

"Is this what you call a mobile medical station?"

"I don't think so. I just wanted to collect some data. Speaking of medical stations, the AI ​​robots in township hospitals are doing a pretty good job."

As the convoy entered the city, the speed gradually decreased.

After turning a few corners, a winding river appeared on one side of the road. The setting sun shone obliquely on the water, breaking it into a fine, golden scale.

Several primary school students squatted on the riverbank, their schoolbags haphazardly tossed behind them, fiddling with something with tree branches, occasionally bursting into laughter.

"Kids these days are so bold," Chen Yong said, looking at the children. "When I was a kid, if I dared to go near the river, I'd definitely get a beating when I got home."

“When I was a child, my uncle would check me every time I came home. His eyes were like a scanner.” Luo Hao recalled the funny things from his childhood. “Once he found a clue, he would run his fingernail across his arm and he could tell whether I had been swimming in the river.”

Chen Yong smiled, and was about to say something when he suddenly heard a "buzz" sound.

A mechanical buzzing sound came from afar.

Above the riverbank, a blue and white drone suddenly swooped down, its belly-mounted camera flashing red. The next second, a cold, electronic female voice boomed from the loudspeaker:
"Warning! A minor has been detected approaching dangerous waters! Facial recognition has been performed!!"

The children jumped up like startled sparrows.

"Zhang Xiaoming from Class 2, Grade 3 of the Third Primary School, Wang Yutong from Class 1, Grade 4..." The drone coldly announced the names. "This violation record will be sent to the homeroom teacher and parents. It is recommended to add three flood prevention safety education assignments."

"Run!!" a little girl with a ponytail screamed, grabbed her schoolbag and rushed towards the embankment.

The other children immediately erupted in chaos. Some nearly stepped into the water in their panic, while a chubby boy tripped over his backpack strap, then scrambled to his feet and continued running away.

The drone followed them at a leisurely pace, continuing to broadcast: "Escape will be punished more severely. Please stop now and watch the safety education video, which will last 15 minutes..."

The convoy slowly drove across this stretch of riverbank.

In the rearview mirror, Luo Hao saw the chubby boy who had fallen behind finally being "captured" by the drone, standing dejectedly on the embankment, with a flashing safety education animation projected in front of him.

The other children who escaped had long since disappeared.

"That's a ruthless move," Chen Yong clicked his tongue. "Much scarier than 'telling your parents' when we were kids."

Luo Hao laughed too; the way the children scattered and ran away was indeed amusing.

Drones, facial recognition, pinpointing the school—it's unclear whether this is just speculation or a school requirement—the data was uploaded to the riverbank patrol agency.

It might be meant to scare the kids, but kids these days are very clever. If it's just a story about the boy who cried wolf, they probably won't care after one or two tries.

However, this matter has nothing to do with Luo Hao, as long as "Xiao Meng" doesn't dig up all sorts of gossip from information from more than ten years ago.

The times surge like a long river, and thunder can be heard in the silence.

The tide of change may seem like a calm, deep current, but in reality it carries immense power, sweeping away everything in its path, and is irresistible.

This torrent sweeps across the riverbed of time, washing away the marks of the past and carving new inscriptions on the cliffs of history.

The torrent of change surges forward, crushing all obstacles in its path and carving out new territories on the plains of history. Its momentum is unstoppable, its power irreversible; only those who follow it prosper, and those who resist perish. Back at the unmanned hospital, AI robots are managing the mobile hospital's equipment, so Luo Hao doesn't need to worry much.

He has his own things to do.

……

At Hospital 912, Gu Huaiming is in a meeting.

He sat in front of the screen watching the video of the surgery he had today to treat a cardiac myxoma.

The conference room lights went out, and the projector beam sliced ​​through the air at an angle, casting shifting shadows on Gu Huaiming's face.

On the screen, the surgical video is playing a crucial part—the moment the robotic arm enters the patient's atrium.

The cold blue shadowless lights flickered in the video, and these lights reflected onto Gu Huaiming's lenses, turning his eyes into two dancing ice lakes.

His expression remained unchanged, but the lines of his jaw appeared and disappeared in the changing light and shadow, and his masseter muscles twitched slightly from time to time.

The robotic arm in the video was separating a myxoma with terrifying precision. Gu Huaiming's index finger unconsciously tapped the table, the rhythm perfectly synchronized with the electrocardiogram monitor in the surgical video.

When the camera zoomed in to show the egg-sized gelatinous tumor being completely removed, the projector's bright light shone directly on his face—in an instant, the fine lines at the corners of his eyes, the white hair at his temples, and even a wrinkle on the collar of his white coat were all illuminated in perfect detail.

"Tell me your thoughts."

Gu Huaiming suddenly spoke, his voice like a scalpel slicing through ice. The young doctors in the conference room all stiffened.

The screen dimmed, and his face disappeared back into darkness, leaving only a blurry outline. No one could see the expression on the face of this "top cardiac surgeon."

The 912 medical team is among the elite. Although their departmental strength is slightly inferior to Fuwai and Anzhen, when it comes to surgical skills, Gu Huaiming is in no way inferior to them.

The surgery performed today... has exceeded everyone's expectations.

What can I say about a surgery that exceeded my imagination?

Moreover, it was a remote surgery.

Seeing that everyone below the stage remained silent, Gu Huaiming did not force his doctors and professors to say anything. Instead, he clicked the remote control and switched the screen to the main view of the surgical field.

Under a 4K microscope, the beating heart resembles a vibrant, living maze. But now, AI has given this heart a completely new dimension.

Three semi-transparent green guide lines floated above the surgical field, marking the course of the coronary arteries in real time.

A pale blue halo illuminated at the end of the robotic arm, changing with the applied pressure: [Contact Force: 0.3N → 0.5N]; as the electrosurgical unit approached the nerve plexus, a red grid suddenly flashed on the tissue surface, and a warning indicator pulsed like a heartbeat: [RISK ZONE: Vagus Nerve Branch].

"Look here carefully."

Gu Huaiming suddenly paused the video feed.

Everyone saw that the mechanical tweezers were holding a bleeding point the size of a sesame seed, while the AI ​​had already marked it in three-dimensional space with a gold dotted line as "[potential perforator: φ0.17mm]", and an enlarged angiographic cross-section of the blood vessel even popped up next to it.

Even more astonishing is the data stream in the lower left corner:

[Tissue elasticity coefficient] 0.42
[Shear stress prediction] ≤1.8kPa
[Optimal separation path calculation in progress]

These fluorescent texts flow like a waterfall, completely digitizing the surgeon's intuition and experience.

As the robotic arm began to dissect the myxoma, each movement was accompanied by real-time annotations: "[Blunt dissection - 45° angle - within safety threshold]", as if two invisible hands of God were guiding the surgery.

Gu Huaiming's finger hovered over the pause button.

The image freezes on the moment the robotic arm completes the last suture, and the AI ​​suddenly puts a green checkmark on the entire surgical field: [Prognostic assessment: Surgical completion rate 98.78%] - This percentage flashes under the operating lights, like a kind of provocation against the era of traditional surgery.

Is there a hint?!

All the doctors in the audience expressed their surprise.

They had some experience with remote surgery, but it was all done remotely via 5G signals, similar to the da Vinci robotic surgery, with little difference.

If there is any difference, it's the speed of the internet.

however.

The thing Professor Luo created was different; it provided various prompts within the user's field of vision.

Director Gu is highly skilled. Even if he is unsure about some things, as long as he works slowly, nothing will go wrong.

However, the AI ​​prompts directly smoothed out many difficulties, writing down in detail on the screen how to enter the surgical area, what the surgical approach is, and how much force to use during the operation.

The surging torrent of data is like a galloping wild donkey, crashing heavily into everyone's hearts.

"Xiao Wu."

"Director." A doctor in his thirties stood up and respectfully approached Gu Huaiming.

"Hurry up with Luo Hao. Our department must be the first to get this kind of equipment," Gu Huaiming said, leaving no room for refusal.

"Yes."

"If you encounter any difficulties or need any procedures, you and Luo Hao should coordinate and report to me immediately."

Gu Huaiming's tone and words revealed his urgency.

What surgeon wouldn't want equipment that can improve their surgical skills?

The conference room lights came back on, and Gu Huaiming scanned the room, his gaze as sharp as a scalpel.

"Director, is the data provided by AI reliable?" a professor leading the group asked hesitantly. His words directly dispelled the doubts of everyone present, his voice low and urgent.

“I know what you’re thinking—are these fancy labels really useful, or just a smokescreen?” Gu Huaiming said.

Below the stage, several professors leading their groups exchanged glances.

Professor Zhang—the most conservative, old-school surgeon in the 912 Cardiac Surgery Department—spoke first: "Director Gu, these real-time biomechanical parameters look too precise; I suspect there's a problem."

He stared at the still-present "[Shear stress: 1.8 kPa]" on the screen, his brow furrowed. "During open-chest surgery, touch is the gold standard. Can these 0.3 N, 0.5 N, and kPa values ​​really replace the tactile feedback of our fingers?"

His questioning was like a pebble thrown into still water.

Professor Li—Gu Huaiming's most prized student—followed up with, "What database is the AI-annotated safety boundary based on? If it's anatomical data of Europeans and Americans, what about the neural variability rate of Asian patients?"

The words were not finished, but the meaning was clear.

The projector's fan suddenly became piercingly loud.

“The data did not come from Europe or America,” Gu Huaiming said. “Professor Luo applied for data access to the HIS system and derived the conclusion through AI calculations.”

Gu Huaiming's answer silenced the entire conference room.

“I’ve been following Professor Luo’s research, but…”

He paused for a moment, somewhat puzzled.

"In the past month or so, it seems that the technology has made leaps and bounds."

"Director, could this be just empty promises? Those data look detailed, but they're actually just misleading people. They're just reminding you that there might be a problem, but the solution lies in your extensive surgical experience."

Gu Huaiming shook his head without even thinking.

He knew that wasn't the case.

Moreover, the "evolution" of remote surgical equipment has a familiar feel to it.

He talks on and on, but he always gets straight to the point.

Gu Huaiming stared at the frozen surgical field image on the screen, his eyes suddenly becoming unfocused for a moment.

The fluctuating AI parameters and flashing guide lines gradually blurred and distorted in my vision, eventually transforming into a familiar figure—my own boss.

Boss Zhou stood opposite the operating table, wearing that faded surgical gown that looked like it had been steamed countless times, his brow slightly furrowed: "Huaiming, you've overdone it again."

In the hallucination, the old man's finger lightly touched the patient's heart: "See? This ligament should be treated like a little girl's braid."

The hands made a gentle twisting motion in the air—"You have to untangle it with the natural flow, not pull it forcefully."

This is how the boss drives, and it reflects his understanding of the world.

Whenever Boss Zhou said that, cheerful laughter would fill the operating room.

Gu Huaiming subconsciously tried to adjust the virtual force feedback parameters, but found nothing.

"director?"

His assistant's shouts brought him back to reality.

The AI ​​on the screen was still calmly annotating [Traction force: 0.7N → Recommended adjustment to 0.4N], but Gu Huaiming could still hear Boss Zhou's accented nagging echoing in his ears: "You young people always have blind faith in machines. Surgery is a skill; you have to memorize it by hand. Muscle memory is very important; you'll naturally understand it after doing it a lot."

He suddenly closed his eyes.

When I opened my eyes again, the hallucination had vanished, leaving only the AI's cold numerical values ​​fluctuating.

Gu Huaiming suddenly realized that his virtual hand holding the electrosurgical knife was unconsciously mimicking the unique "twisting" technique of Boss Zhou from his memory—and at that moment, the AI ​​popped up a prompt on the screen: [Technique Optimization Detection: Traditional Blunt Separation Technique (Asian Technique Variant)]

At the end of the data stream, there was a line of small print: "[This technique was demonstrated by Professor Zhou at the 1995 Tokyo Cardiac Surgery Annual Meeting]".

Gu Huaiming's facial muscles twitched slightly.

The hallucinations and the AI ​​system's prompts blended together, making it impossible for him to distinguish between reality and illusion.

Those who questioned him were initially puzzled by Gu Huaiming's emotions. Shouldn't a surgery that significantly surpasses the current level of technology be a cause for celebration?

Why is Director Gu's face filled with such complex emotions?

But gradually, they also saw clearly the various prompts the AI ​​made on the screen, and the style of it was very similar to that of a person.

Those who were older and had been subjected to this kind of rambling fell silent.

The world is changing so fast that they can't even comprehend it.

(End of this chapter)