Song Ning replaced the microscope with a magnifying glass.
She tilted her head to one side.
The nurse quickly wiped the sweat from her forehead.
Ischemia and swelling had pulled the outer sheaths of the median and ulnar nerves taut, like fingers bound with string.
Keeping her eyes fixed on the magnifying glass, she brought the Microsurgical Scissors forward.
"Careful!" Director Wang finally could not help warning her.
One wrong cut could sever a nerve and leave the arm completely useless.
Even in the best case... it might never recover.
With the nerves held taut for so long, they were like overstretched rubber bands: unable to function normally and liable to lose their elasticity from excessive stretching.
Song Ning drew a deep breath and carefully, precisely released several points of constriction, little by little, allowing the grayish-white nerve bundles to relax.
There was no nerve growth factor in this era, nor were there Nerve Conduits. She could only use physical means to improve the nerves' condition.
After that, they would have to rely on their own ability to grow and repair themselves.
Watching Song Ning work, Director Wang grew so nervous that sweat covered his forehead.
He watched her scissors move, little by little.
His admiration for her knew no bounds.
He had never seen such steady hands!
Nor had he ever seen such delicate work!
Only when she completed this critical stage in one uninterrupted stretch and began closing the wound did his heart finally settle.
After layer upon layer of irrigation and suturing, the operation drew toward its end.
The entire surgery was nearly over.
It had taken a full two hours.
Song Ning checked Gu Zheng's fingertip capillary refill one last time-she pressed down, released, and the color returned in two and a half seconds.
"It worked!"