novellpt Chapter 1448 Extra-official Director
Chapter 1448 Extra-official Director
Chapter 1448 Extra-official Director
Yang Ping turned around gently and left the neurosurgery operating room.
He then went to the cardiac surgery operating room, where Li Zehui was performing an aortic dissection surgery. Vascular surgery is not yet a separate department, so this type of surgery is temporarily performed by cardiac surgery.
This surgery was complex and dangerous; aortic dissection is known as the "Mount Everest of vascular surgery," with an extremely high mortality rate and immense surgical difficulty. But for Li Zehui, it was nothing.
Yang Ping stood outside the observation window for a while without going in to disturb them.
Then he went to the thoracic surgery operating room, where Director He was already performing a radical resection of lung cancer. Director He's movements were very precise, following the textbook step by step, without deviating from the prescribed procedures. Yang Ping watched for a while, thinking to himself: Director He's technique is not the problem; what he lacks is not technique, but confidence. The day he dares to break away from the textbook and perform the procedure according to his own understanding, his skill level will reach a new level.
Yang Ping walked out of the operating center, changed out of his scrubs in the changing room, and put his white coat back on. He straightened his collar in front of the mirror and looked at himself.
On my way to the research institute, as I passed the emergency room, I saw Zaxi cleaning and suturing a wound on a patient. Zaxi's movements were slow but meticulous, each step performed perfectly. He remained as steady and unhurried as ever, stitching each thread with perfect precision.
Yang Ping didn't disturb him, but just watched from a distance, quite satisfied.
Zaxi, this student, may not be exceptionally gifted, but his strength lies in his diligence. Knowing he's not particularly bright, he works harder than others. While others practice once, he practices ten times; while others read one book, he reads three; while others rest on weekends, he works overtime. Such a person may not become a top expert, but he will certainly become a qualified doctor.
This is enough.
Back in the office, the tea on my desk had long since gone cold.
He picked up the cup, the cool tea went down his throat, carrying a faint bitter taste, but the aftertaste was sweet.
the phone is ringing.
Yang Ping glanced at the caller ID—Dean Xia.
"Professor Yang, are you at the institute?" Dean Xia's voice came through the receiver, as crisp and efficient as ever.
"Yes, I just got back."
"Please don't leave, I came to find you, I have something to tell you."
The phone hangs up.
Yang Ping put down his phone and leaned back in his chair. If Dean Xia said "there's something I need to discuss," it certainly wasn't a small matter. He knew this old dean's style all too well; minor matters could be resolved over the phone without any need for him to come in person.
Less than ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door.
"Come in."
As expected, Dean Xia entered through the door. He was wearing a dark blue jacket, and his hair was streaked with gray, but he stood ramrod straight and walked with a powerful stride. Yang Ping noticed that he was holding a roll of blueprints, bound with a rubber band, the edges of which were somewhat worn, indicating that he had looked at them many times.
"Dean, please have a seat." Yang Ping stood up and offered the chair to Dean Xia.
Dean Xia waved his hand, didn't sit down, and directly spread the drawings on Yang Ping's desk. He untied the rubber band, and the drawings unfolded with a whoosh, covering most of the desktop.
"Take a look at the floor plan of the new research institute, the first draft that just came out," Dean Xia said.
Yang Ping looked down.
The blueprints were huge, densely packed with details. He saw cell laboratories, molecular biology laboratories, animal experiment centers, imaging platforms, biobanks, cold storage, sterilization rooms, conference rooms, offices... Every area was clearly labeled, with its area, function, and responsible person clearly written down.
"What is this?" Yang Ping asked.
Dean Xia said, "I'm about to start the renovation. Is there anything else you'd like me to tell you?"
Yang Ping's gaze moved across the blueprints, examining each section one by one, growing more and more satisfied with each look.
This new research institute was larger, more comprehensive, and more advanced than he had imagined, living up to its reputation as a "super research institute."
"Dean, isn't this scale a bit too large?" Yang Ping looked up and asked somewhat uncertainly.
Dean Xia chuckled: "A bit too big? The higher-ups complained that it was too small, saying why we didn't get a bigger plot of land back then."
Yang Ping was taken aback.
Dean Xia patted a spot on the blueprint and said, "Look here, this is an apartment building specifically prepared for attracting talent. It's right behind the research institute, a three-minute walk away."
Yang Ping's gaze fell on the label—"Expert Apartments, several 12-story buildings, with several hundred apartments."
"Several hundred sets?" Yang Ping was somewhat surprised.
"Is that too many?" Dean Xia countered. "I don't think it's enough. Think about it, how many people are there in the institute now? Tang Shun, Lu Xiaolu, Jiang Jitong, Einstein, Weber... and in the future? How many people will you need to develop, transform, and apply your theories? A few hundred sets, I estimate, will only be enough for five to ten years. But look, I've reserved a lot of land, so we can build more if needed in the future."
Yang Ping fell silent.
"If you have no objections, then I'll finalize the renovation plan?" Dean Xia asked again.
Yang Ping shook his head: "You decide."
"Well!"
Dean Xia hurriedly packed up the floor plan and headed out.
Yang Ping checked the time; it was already 7 p.m. He'd worked a bit late today and should hurry off work to rest.
He tidied his desk, turned off the lights, and walked out of the office. The corridor was quiet.
As he passed by Einstein's laboratory, he saw that the door was ajar and heard the sound of keyboard typing coming from inside.
Yang Ping gently pushed open the door and peeked inside.
Mannstein sat in front of his computer, wearing reading glasses, typing away at the screen. His desk was piled high with documents and notes, and his coffee cup was half-empty.
"Still here?" Yang Ping walked in.
Mainstein looked up, took off his reading glasses, and rubbed his eyes: "You didn't leave either."
"I just got back from the operating room." Yang Ping pulled up a chair and sat down. "What are you writing?"
“A paper!” Mainstein said. “We’ve made new progress on the topic of protocellular repair of spinal cord injuries. We previously discovered that protocellular cells can promote nerve regeneration after spinal cord injury, but the mechanism was unclear. Recently, we conducted a series of experiments and have clarified the mechanism a little more.”
Yang Ping's eyes lit up: "Tell me more about it."
Mannstein turned around, typed a few words on the keyboard, and brought up a set of data charts.
"Look, this is the expression spectrum of inflammatory factors at different time points after spinal cord injury. Without treatment, inflammatory factors peak three days after the injury, then slowly decline, but remain at a high level until day 28. After receiving proto-cell therapy, the peak value of inflammatory factors is significantly reduced, and by day 14, it has basically returned to normal levels."
Yang Ping looked at the charts, his mind racing.
"Does this mean that the progenitor cells suppressed the inflammatory response?" he asked.
“It’s not just about suppression,” Mainstein said. “We also found that in the protocellular therapy group, the expression of anti-inflammatory factors was significantly increased, while the expression of pro-inflammatory factors was significantly decreased. This suggests that protocellular cells may not simply suppress inflammation, but rather transform the inflammatory response from a ‘destructive’ mode to a ‘reparative’ mode, and this is likely just the tip of the iceberg.”
Yang Ping remained silent for a moment.
This discovery is significant. If Mainstein's conclusion is correct, it means that protocellular cells can not only directly repair damage but also indirectly promote repair by regulating the immune microenvironment. This essentially opens up a completely new research direction.
“Is your data reliable?” Yang Ping asked. “I repeated it three times, and the results were consistent,” Mainstein said. “I’ve had Weber do cross-validation with his stem cell model. If his results match mine, then it’s basically confirmed.”
“Okay!” Yang Ping nodded. “We’ll discuss it together once Weber’s results are out.”
He stayed in Mainstein's lab for a while longer, discussed some experimental details, and then got up to take his leave.
As he reached the door, Mainstein suddenly called out to him, "Professor Yang."
Yang Ping turned around.
"Before I came to China, many people advised me not to come. They said that China did not have a good research environment and that I would regret it if I went."
Yang Ping remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
"But now I can tell those people they were wrong. This place not only has the world's best research platform, but also the world's best research partners. Professor Yang, thank you. If it weren't for you, I would never have made this breakthrough in my life. Thank you."
Yang Ping paused for a moment, then laughed.
"You're welcome," he said. "Go back and get some rest; you have experiments tomorrow."
He walked out of Mainstein's laboratory and continued down the corridor.
Weber's laboratory was at the end of the corridor, and the lights were still on. Yang Ping walked over and saw Weber leading two students, busy at the workbench. Weber's movements were slow but precise, and he followed the experimental protocol strictly for each step.
"Weber." Yang Ping knocked on the door frame.
Weber looked up, saw Yang Ping, and smiled, "Professor Yang! What brings you here?"
"Just passing by, thought I'd come in and take a look." Yang Ping went inside. "What kind of experiment are you conducting?"
“Co-culturing progenitor cells and stem cells,” Weber said. “I wanted to see if the proliferation and differentiation capacity of stem cells would change in the presence of progenitor cells.”
"The results of it?"
“We’re still working on it,” Weber said. “But initially, it appears that protocells can promote the neural-directed differentiation of stem cells. If we can prove this, then the combined use of protocells and stem cells could become a new strategy for treating spinal cord injuries.”
Yang Ping nodded.
Weber's approach is correct. Progenitor cells and stem cells each have their advantages; combining them could potentially create a synergistic effect, achieving a result greater than the sum of its parts. However, observing the phenomenon is only at the level of observation; clarifying the underlying mechanisms is crucial.
"How's your new paper coming along?" Yang Ping asked again.
Weber's expression became somewhat subtle: "We're still revising it. The reviewers' comments are very sharp; one reviewer almost rejected all of our conclusions."
“That’s normal,” Yang Ping said. “The reviewers for top journals are all leading experts in the field, and they won’t easily overlook any flaws. You should take every comment seriously, revise what you can, and explain clearly what you can’t revise.”
“I know,” Weber said, “but there are some opinions that I find unreasonable, but I don’t know how to refute them.”
“Send me those comments, and I’ll take a look,” Yang Ping said.
Weber's eyes lit up: "Really?"
"Of course," Yang Ping smiled.
He stayed in Weber's lab for a while, chatted with two students about their research, and then left.
When Yang Ping reached the elevator, he ran into Tang Shun.
Tang Shungang came up from downstairs carrying a stack of documents. He paused when he saw Yang Ping and asked, "Professor, why haven't you left yet?"
"I'm leaving now," Yang Ping said. "What about you? Why are you coming up so late?"
"I left a document in the office, so I came back to get it." Tang Shun waved the document in his hand. "I need it tomorrow morning, and I was afraid I'd forget it."
Yang Ping looked at Tang Shun, as if remembering something.
"Tang Shun, come here for a moment, I need to talk to you about something."
The two walked to the lounge area in the hallway and sat down on the sofa.
"Have you been busy lately?" Yang Ping asked.
Tang Shun gave a wry smile: "Professor, what do you think? The cell lab needs to be expanded, I need to mentor the new PhDs, I need to coordinate the projects with Mainstein and Weber, and I also have to worry about the daily management of the institute... I feel like a spinning top, turning from morning till night, without even a moment to catch my breath."
"Don't forget, as the director, you have personnel authority in the lab. You can recruit a few deputy directors to help, or find a few assistants as appropriate."
Tang Shun paused for a moment, then shook his head: "It's okay, I can handle it. I still prefer flat management. It's better to communicate directly with the lab directors. Actually, I delegate the less important things to my assistants now."
"Alright, just don't forget that you have personnel authority and can hire people whenever you want," Yang Ping instructed him.
"Okay." Tang Shun stood up. "Then, Professor, if there's nothing else, I'll be going now. I have a meeting tomorrow morning."
"Go!"
Tang Shun hurriedly left with the documents in his arms, his footsteps fading into the distance in the corridor.
Yang Ping sat for a while longer, then took another walk around the ward. As he walked out of the research institute building, the moonlight was already shining on the ground.
He looked up at the sky; the moon was round and bright, hanging in the velvety night sky.
It's already the fifteenth day of the lunar calendar.
Yang Ping took out his phone and sent a message to Xiao Su: "There's moonlight tonight, want to go for a walk?"
Less than ten seconds after the message was sent, Xiao Su replied: "Where are you?"
"At the entrance of the research institute."
"wait for me."
"Shall I wait for you on the overpass?"
"it is good!"
Yang Ping put away his phone and walked onto the overpass.
Xiao Su arrived in just a few minutes. She was wearing a light-colored thin coat, and her hair was loose, making her look much softer in the moonlight.
The two walked side by side on the hospital walkway, their shadows stretched long and overlapping under the streetlights.
"I ran into Head Nurse Jiang in the operating room today."
"Nurse Jiang? She's a good person in every way, except she's too nosy," Xiao Su said with a smile, but there was no dissatisfaction in her tone. "Did she try to persuade you to have a second child?"
"How did you know? Yes!" Yang Ping was quite surprised.
Xiao Su smiled and said, "She used to be my head nurse. I don't know her very well. I heard that she used to be the director of the family planning office, but now she is the director of the birth control office."