Chapter 2060: Chapter 1782: Overflowing Classroom

In April in Nandu, the kapok flowers were in full bloom.

Every Friday morning, Yang Ping had a class, sometimes for doctoral students, sometimes for master’s or undergraduate students. Today’s class was a specialized course for orthopedic doctoral students at Nandu Medical University.

The driver Old Zhou parked the car at the entrance of the teaching building. As soon as Yang Ping got out of the car, he saw Director Liu from the academic affairs office running to meet him.

"Professor Yang, you’re here at last." Director Liu wiped his sweat, and his expression was hard to read—whether it was happiness or worry, "Today... today there are even more people."

Yang Ping glanced at him: "How many more can there be?"

Director Liu smiled wryly: "You’ll know once you see it."

As Yang Ping walked into the teaching building, before he even reached the classroom door, he could hear the buzzing chatter. Turning the corner, he stopped.

The corridor was full of people.

From the classroom door all the way to the staircase, it was packed with people, a dense crowd.

When they saw Yang Ping, the originally noisy corridor suddenly quieted down, and then a path was made automatically.

"Hello, Professor Yang!"

"Professor Yang is here!"

Yang Ping nodded as he walked inside. When he reached the classroom door, he stopped again.

This was the largest lecture hall at Nandu Medical University, capable of seating three hundred people. But at this moment, the three hundred seats had long been taken. The aisles were full of people standing, and both sides of the podium were crowded, and even the windowsills were occupied by people, truly sitting on the window sills with legs hanging outside, holding books in their hands.

There were still crowds of people at the entrance, craning their necks to look inside, unwilling to leave even though they couldn’t get in.

In the crowd, he saw familiar faces, doctors from Nandu Affiliated Hospital One, who had come during their break. A few were in suits and leather shoes, directors from various city hospitals, usually speaking on stage, now squeezed into corners. There were also a few elderly individuals with gray hair, retired professors from Nandu Medical University, some already over eighty years old, also attending the class.

When Yang Ping entered through the side door to the podium, the classroom suddenly fell silent.

Then, applause broke out.

Not the polite, sparse kind, but a heartfelt, thunderous round of applause. More than three hundred people clapped simultaneously, and the sound almost lifted the roof. Those in the hallway who couldn’t get in also joined in the applause.

Yang Ping stood on the podium, already accustomed to this scene. It was like this every week, full every week, applause every week. But each time, he still waited, waited for the applause to gradually subside.

He waited a few minutes before the applause slowly faded away.

Yang Ping began to lecture, his teaching style quite unique.

He didn’t use a PPT, didn’t stick to the script, just stood on the podium and spoke as if chatting, yet every word was captivating.

"Remember, the classification of vertebral tumors isn’t for memorization; it’s to guide surgery. When you see a tumor, the first question that should pop into your mind is: Where is this tumor located? What’s its relationship with the nerves? Is its blood supply abundant? Can it be completely removed? The classification is just a tool to help you answer these questions."

"Look, this tumor is located at the front of the vertebral body; if you approach it from the back, it’s a long detour with more bleeding and higher risk. Why not enter directly from the front? Some fear the complexity of anterior anatomy, fearing damage to major vessels. But have you thought about it? What you fear, the tumor also fears. When you enter from the front, the most dangerous anatomy happens to be the place closest to the tumor. Once you’ve managed the danger, the tumor is exposed in front of you."

"When cutting the tumor, how far is the tip of your scissors from the nerves? One millimeter? Two millimeters? Let me tell you, under a microscope, one millimeter is like a river. If you can’t cross it, you have to find another way around. How do you get around? By gently pushing with a suction device, cushioning with cotton, using bipolar electrocoagulation bit by bit. For every action, you need to think carefully: Will this incision damage the nerves? Will it bleed? Will it cause irreversible damage?"

The audience was engrossed, some busily taking notes, some looking up with eyes wide open, some quietly wiping the corners of their eyes.

Sitting in the third row was a young girl with a ponytail, wearing a white gown, likely an intern. She had been smiling all along, a genuine, uncontrollable smile. The person next to her softly asked, "What’s up?" She replied, "Nothing, just feel that being able to listen to Professor Yang’s lecture is great."

In the corner, a few people in surgical attire stood out. They had just come down from the operating table at Nandu Affiliated Hospital One, not even changing their clothes. One of them, looking at Yang Ping, sighed, "Our department hosts an academic conference and can’t even invite this many people, but Professor Yang’s lecture packs it like this."

Another one said, "Nonsense! If you get a chance to attend Professor Yang’s lecture, you take it. Do you think he’s someone you can casually invite? Our school’s good relationship with him allows us this privilege. Other frontline hospitals have to schedule appointments for his lectures. We can see him in person every week here."

The first person nodded and said no more.

Everyone was enjoying the lecture, different people learning different knowledge. The undergraduates were still learning the basics, with no knowledge of vertebral tumors, but they were also enthralled, learning how to think, how to connect the basics with clinical practice.

During the break, Yang Ping was surrounded by people.

This was the fixed program every Friday, a twenty-minute break more tiring than the lecture, but he never refused.

"Professor Yang, I have a question to consult with you!" A middle-aged doctor pushed forward, holding a stack of images, "This patient I admitted last week has an upper cervical tumor, please take a look..."