Surgery Godfather

Chapter 2195: Chapter 1437: Waiting for Fifty Years (Part 2)

M7 lay on the cushion, with its right hind leg curled up underneath its body, no different from before.

"It really moved just now," Fritz said eagerly, "I saw it with my own eyes, it bent several times, even kicked once."

Yang Ping didn’t probe further; he squatted down in front of M7, meeting its gaze.

"M7," he called gently, as if speaking to a child, "Could you move again, please?"

M7 looked at him, its brown eyes reflecting his face.

Then its right hind leg moved.

First the toes, spreading out, curling in, then spreading out again. Then the ankle joint, dorsiflexion, plantar flexion. Finally, the knee joint drawing a slow and deliberate arc between flexion and extension.

The entire animal room was so silent that one could hear breathing. Eva’s phone was recording, her hand steady but the camera slightly shaking due to her quickened breath. Lina covered her mouth, tears silently sliding from behind her round-framed glasses. Hans stood frozen, mouth slightly open, as if immobilized.

Weber crouched down, one hand on the ground, the other pressing his knee, leaning closer to observe M7’s right leg. His reading glasses slid to the tip of his nose, but he didn’t adjust them, merely tilting his head to look.

"It’s not a spasm," he said, his voice hoarse, "Spasms have a frequency of eight to twelve Hertz per second; this frequency is less than one Hertz. It’s a conscious movement."

"How do you know it’s conscious?" Yang Ping asked.

"Because it’s looking at its own leg," Weber pointed at M7’s eyes, "M7 is watching its leg move; if it were just a reflex, it wouldn’t be looking."

Yang Ping followed Weber’s finger. M7’s head was slightly turned to the right, eyes fixed on its hind leg, with a focus akin to a child discovering their hand for the first time.

"Record the time," Yang Ping stood up, "Forty-second day post-operation, right hind limb shows autonomous movement. Record the form: flexion and extension pattern, three joints in coordination. Record observers: everyone."

Tang Shun took out his phone and started typing. Yang Ping turned to Eva.

"Eva, perform the motor evoked potential test this afternoon; I need to know the functional integrity of the corticospinal tract."

"Okay!"

"Fritz, begin recording the number, frequency, and amplitude of M7’s autonomous movements daily; create a chart."

"Okay!"

"Professor Weber, when will the proteomics results be available?"

"Tonight!"

"Send them to me tonight, at any time."

Weber nodded.

"Everyone else," Yang Ping looked around the room, "Continue with your tasks. M7’s movement is good news, but it’s far from walking. Don’t get too excited yet, and don’t spread the news. It’s not time to celebrate."

The crowd dispersed, with muted discussions and unconcealed smiles. Hans was in the hallway, panting as he called his family in Germany. Lina squatted in a corner, burying her face in her knees, shoulders shaking, unclear if she was crying or laughing. Eva returned to the testing bench, starting to adjust the equipment, her fingers moving twice as fast as usual, like she was racing against time.

Weber had devoted his life to research, having seen too many illusions of "breakthroughs" — an elegant experimental result, a high-impact paper, a lively news conference. Then followed a long wait, awaiting replication, clinical trials, and approval.

"Professor Yang," Weber said, "M7 moved, do you know what this means?"

"I do," Yang Ping turned around, looking at Weber, "It means we’ve walked the right path."

"Not just the right path," Weber’s voice was low, only audible to Yang Ping, "We’ve succeeded; the original cell activation, exogenous stem cell transplantation, scar modulation, central sensitization closed-loop suppression — these four techniques together are not one plus one equals two, they’re four multiplied together, equals ten thousand."

Weber’s fingers tightened slightly, the small gesture repeated countless times on the desktop now appearing inside the sleeves of the White Gown.

At two o’clock in the afternoon, Eva’s motor evoked potential test began.

M7 was lightly anesthetized, laying on the testing table. Its head was fixed on a special scaffold, electrodes were affixed to its scalp. Using a transcranial magnetic stimulator, Eva applied a brief magnetic pulse above M7’s motor cortex, then recorded the induced electrical activity on the muscles of its hind leg.

"First group stimuli, sixty percent intensity." Eva pressed the button.

The oscilloscope displayed a flat baseline, no waveform.

"Seventy percent."

Flatline.

"Eighty percent."

Flatline.

Eva’s fingers paused on the voltage knob. She glanced at Yang Ping sitting beside her; Yang Ping’s expression remained unchanged, his gaze fixed on the oscilloscope.

"Ninety percent."

The oscilloscope showed a small peak, like a sun just peeking over the horizon. The peak was small, with an amplitude less than one-tenth of the normal value, but it existed, clear and definite.

Eva’s fingers tightened.

"One hundred percent."

This time, the peak grew larger, amplitude reached one-quarter of the normal value. Latency was nearly twice the normal value, indicating slow neural conduction, like a bumpy old road, a vehicle can barely drive but with severe vibrations.

"Record," Eva said to Lina, who was taking notes, "Motor evoked potential is elicitable, threshold intensity ninety percent, amplitude twelve percent of normal, latency two hundred ten percent of normal."

She turned her head, looking at Yang Ping.

"The conduction function of the corticospinal tract has recovered, although weak, it’s now functional."

Yang Ping nodded. He didn’t smile, but his eyes had a light, not of excitement but of affirmation, like walking through dense fog, suddenly spotting a sign that reads a single word — correct!

Weber stood by the testing bench, pulling out an old flip phone from his pocket. He glanced at Yang Ping, who nodded slightly.

Weber took the phone, walked out of the testing room, standing by the corridor window, ready to share the good news with friends.

M7’s autonomous movement showed explosive progress by the seventh post-operative week.

On the first day of the sixth week, it could only perform single, non-continuous flexions. By the end of the sixth week, it could flex three times in succession, the grip strength in its toes markedly increased. On the first day of the seventh week, Fritz discovered M7 had moved from one end of the cushion to the other, approximately thirty centimeters.

It moved itself.

When Fritz played this footage for everyone, the Meeting Room was silent. In the video, M7 lay on the cushion, its two hind legs alternating in a crawling motion, akin to a baby learning to crawl, awkward but determined. With each kick, its body moved a little forward, inch by inch, taking nearly two minutes to cover the thirty centimeters.

But it moved itself.

"This isn’t a reflex," Eva pointed to the frame-by-frame analysis on screen, "Take note of this, the timing and amplitude of the kicks are variable, indicating higher central control. If it were spinal level rhythmic generator, the gait should be rigid and repetitive, but this isn’t; each kick is different."

Yang Ping said, "It’s learning, M7 is relearning how to walk."

Lina noted this down in the experimental logbook, circling it with a red pen.

Weber then stood up, walked to the animal room, M7 was lying in the cage, hind legs curled but more relaxed than the previous week.

"M7," Weber crouched down, looking at it through the cage bars, "You are remarkable; do you know what this means? Your rapid repair of spinal damage this time indicates that under certain conditions, exogenous stem cells can aid in the repair of original cells, it’s extraordinary, I’ve waited fifty years for this day."

M7 turned its head, looking at Weber, a thin layer of light in its brown eyes.

Weber extended his hand, M7 extended its hand too, gently clasping one of his fingers.

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