A Surgeon's Guide to Excessive Sugar Intake

The Surgeon’s Sugar Intake Is Off the Charts

Synopsis:

At three in the morning, Lin Yan, a cardiac surgeon, has just finished an eight-hour operation. His fingertips still feel cool from the disinfectant when Gu Shiyan from neurosurgery blocks his way at the equipment room door.

“Dr. Lin,” the man says, the hem of his white coat stained faintly with blood, his tone carrying its usual teasing edge. “Your hands are steady when you stitch up a heart. How come they shake when you pick up a cup of coffee?”

Lin Yan looks up, his gaze sharp as a scalpel. “At least I don’t keep my hands steady while drilling into someone’s skull, only to stutter the moment you see me.”

One is the cardiac surgery department’s rock, so calm he borders on being cold, and adept at “tightrope walking” on a beating heart. The other is neurosurgery’s sharp-tongued, calculating “ghost hand,” capable of separating brain tumors with millimeter precision. These top surgeons should each have stayed in their own lane, but cases spanning multiple departments keep forcing them to work together.

In the operating room, they are fierce rivals, arguing until their faces turn red over the best treatment plan. Outside it, when she is surrounded by patients causing a scene at the hospital, he gets her out of trouble with a single line: “Keep yelling and I’ll order a brain CT for you.” After he has worked through one operation after another, she silently leaves warm milk on his desk with a note: “Drink less coffee, unless you want to drop dead.”

From academic rivals who can’t stand each other to a pair sharing a late-night snack in the on-call room; from sneaking around to hide their relationship to the promise, “Wait for me to come back,” spoken through their protective suits when an epidemic strikes.

They have seen the coldest instruments and held the warmest hands. They have heard “the surgery was a success” countless times, but when they look at...