Miyuki Fujiwara stood by the window of the Sanbo Research Institute, looking out.

It was already dusk, and the sunset had dyed the entire city a warm orange-red. The leaves of the nearby banyan trees gently swayed in the evening breeze, and occasionally a few leaves drifted down, spinning on the ground.

She had been in China for almost a year.

This wasn’t her first time, but it was the longest she’d stayed. The last time was three months; this time, she didn’t even know how long she would stay. After all, she didn’t want to leave; she wanted to stay longer. If she could stay a day, she’d stay a day; if she could stay a year, she’d stay a year.

A knock on the door came from behind her. She turned around and said, "Please come in."

The door opened, and Dr. Li Guodong entered, holding a stack of documents, saying, "Dr. Fujiwara, Professor Yang wants you to come over. There’s a case he’d like you to see."

Miyuki Fujiwara nodded, "Sure, I’ll go right away."

Dr. Li left, and she tidied up her white gown before heading to Yang Ping’s office.

The door to Yang Ping’s office was open. As she walked over, she saw Yang Ping standing in front of the reading lamp, staring at several images. Hearing footsteps, he turned around, saw her, and smiled.

"Fujiwara, you’re here. Come and take a look at this case."

Miyuki Fujiwara walked over and stood beside him, looking at the images together.

The reading lamp displayed a three-dimensional reconstruction image of a spine, which looked very complex. Yang Ping pointed at several spots with his finger, saying, "Look here, here, and here, three deformities affecting each other. Conventional correction methods can only resolve one, but not the other two. I want to hear your thoughts."

Miyuki Fujiwara carefully looked for a while and said, "How about staged surgery? Address the most severe one first, then after some recovery time, proceed with the second one."

Yang Ping shook his head, "The patient is a fifteen-year-old child, still developing, and cannot afford to wait. Staged surgery would take six months to a year, during which the deformities could worsen."

Miyuki Fujiwara thought for a moment and said, "Then we can only solve it all at once, but how do we address three points simultaneously?"

Yang Ping said, "Fifteen years old, already an adolescent, there’s not much growth space left to use epiphyseal blocking correction techniques. However, using our independently developed osteotomy technique is feasible. This osteotomy technique is suitable for any age and any degree of spinal deformity."

Miyuki Fujiwara was taken aback.

Yang’s Osteotomy Technique, she certainly knew. It was one of Yang Ping’s core technologies and recognized worldwide as a top surgical method in the field of spinal surgery. Throughout her year at Sanbo, she had watched countless of Yang Ping’s surgeries, and each time she was amazed by the precision and ingenuity. Yet she had never fully grasped the essence, given that her primary specialty was sports medicine and spinal surgery was something she learned later.

Yang Ping looked at her, "Do you have the confidence to perform this surgery?"

"Me?" Miyuki Fujiwara’s eyes widened, unable to believe her ears.

Yang Ping nodded, "Yes, you do it."

Miyuki Fujiwara stood there, speechless for a long time.

"Mr. Yang, I..." She opened her mouth, "I don’t have the confidence."

Yang Ping said, "In the beginning, without confidence, you prepare seriously. In the end, you become confident."

Miyuki Fujiwara looked at him and suddenly asked, "Mr. Yang, do you trust me that much?"

Yang Ping paused for a moment, then smiled, "Why wouldn’t I trust you?"

Miyuki Fujiwara said, "I’m Japanese."

Yang Ping said, "What’s the problem with being Japanese?"

Miyuki Fujiwara said, "There are things you don’t know."

Yang Ping looked at her, remained silent for a moment.

Then he said, "I know."

Miyuki Fujiwara was stunned.

Yang Ping said, "I know when you came, you might have had some mission. I also know you haven’t done anything."

Miyuki Fujiwara opened her mouth, speechless.

Yang Ping continued, "You came here for a year; I’ve watched for a year. What you do, what you don’t do, I’ve observed. I also know about the matter of you helping us block that agent."

Miyuki Fujiwara’s tears suddenly welled up.

She lowered her head, not wanting him to see.

So he knew everything.

He was aware of everything, yet he never pointed it out. He let her continue to stay at the institute, continue learning from him, continue participating in those core surgeries and discussions. He treated her like any other resident doctor, never discriminating against her because of her background.

Yang Ping walked over, gently patted her shoulder, and said, "You don’t need to explain; I just need to know you’re a good doctor, and that’s enough."

Miyuki Fujiwara raised her head, looking at him.

His gaze was very gentle, just like when she first met him.

She wiped her tears, saying, "Mr. Yang, thank you for trusting me. I... I believe I can complete this surgery, but I need your guidance."

Yang Ping laughed, "Okay, I’ll teach you the essentials of Yang’s Osteotomy Technique then."

Miyuki Fujiwara nodded vigorously.

That night, Miyuki Fujiwara returned to her dorm, sat by the window, and gazed at the night outside in a daze.

She lived in the dormitory arranged by the hospital for resident doctors. She kept her room simple, with a bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and a few ukiyo-e prints she brought from Japan on the walls.

This year had been very fulfilling for her.

She followed Yang Ping for outpatient studies, surgeries, ward rounds, read books and literature at night, and sometimes spent weekends with other resident doctors exploring Nandu City. She had visited many parks, the Chen Family Ancestral Hall, Baiyun Mountain, the old mansions in Shamian, and even went to see the night view by the Pearl River. She learned to enjoy intestines, roast goose, clay pot rice, and joined colleagues at roadside stalls for sweet soup, and haggled in broken Cantonese with the old ladies selling fruit.