Surgery Godfather

Chapter 2197: Chapter 1438: I Just Want to Laugh (Part 2)

"What about ethical approval?" Tang Shun asked, "Ethical approval for primate research takes at least three months domestically. What about in Germany?"

"Four to six weeks," Weber said, "The European ethics review system is more flexible than domestically. If you go through the fast track, you can get approval within a month."

Yang Ping quickly wrote several keywords on the whiteboard: Heidelberg, shared facilities, four to six weeks.

"So the plan is," he put down the marker and turned to look at everyone, "M7 continues in China. Add 12, six in China, the other six in Germany. The six in Germany first, followed by the six in China, carried out in both places with the same surgical plan, the same evaluation standards, the same data analysis process. If the results of the thirteen animals are consistent, n=13, then the reviewers will have no reason to question it."

The meeting room was silent for a moment.

Weber took off his glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and then put them back on.

"Professor Yang, are you proposing I conduct the experiment on those six in Germany?"

Yang Ping nodded, "You return to Germany to independently replicate our experiment, you do it in your laboratory in Heidelberg, and we in Nandu. Neither of us knows the other’s results, and after completion, the data will be compared."

"Blind study?" Weber’s eyes lit up.

"Yes, blind study, cross-center blind study. This is the strongest evidence—two continents, two laboratories, two teams executing the same method to produce the same result. If the reviewers still don’t believe that, then there’s nothing trustworthy in science."

Manstein leaned back and let out a long sigh, "Looks like I need to postpone my clinical work for a while, but it’s okay, Markus is already capable of handling things independently, even without me, my department will operate normally."

Weber pondered for a long time and slowly said, "Professor Yang, if someone in Germany suggested what you just did—give their core data to another lab for independent validation, and it’s before the paper is even published, everyone would say he’s crazy. Because it means if the other party can’t reproduce it, your research is wasted. If the other party succeeds first, you lose your publication rights."

"Ha ha... ha ha..."

When Manstein was about to say the third ’ha ha’, Weber interrupted him: "Young man, are you mocking me?"

Manstein stood up and couldn’t help but let out another ’ha ha’, he really couldn’t hold it in, really...

Weber felt seriously offended, his face full of anger.

"I’m sorry, really sorry, I meant no offense, I just couldn’t help laughing, sorry..." Manstein apologized with a laugh.

Weber asked seriously, "Then what are you laughing at? Was what I said just now funny?"

"It’s like this, listen to my explanation... you just talked about Professor Yang entrusting such important core data to you; actually, he never intended to claim that part’s publication rights. The publication rights have always been yours. The project you are in charge of is just a very small part of Professor Yang’s entire large project. There are many similar classified small projects worldwide, like the one I am doing, and others in the United States, Tokyo University in Japan, etc. Professor Yang just hopes to open up this big project and involve the strengths from around the world."

Manstein tried hard to explain, trying not to laugh while explaining.

"You mentioned publication rights, like a person catching a one-kilogram fish in a pond, he would be very nervous, worried others might dispute with him over the ownership of the fish because a one-hundred-kilogram fish is really rare and eye-catching. But if you change the scenario and you catch a one-hundred-kilogram fish in the Pacific Ocean, no one would care about your fish, completely no one. I don’t know if I made myself clear, and if I did offend you, it was certainly not my intention. I didn’t mean to ridicule, just felt like laughing."

Weber’s fingers clenched on the desktop, that small movement reappeared, but this time it wasn’t tension, it was a deeper kind of trembling.

"Sorry, I misunderstood you just now," Weber said, blushing, "I will go back to Germany and personally conduct this replication experiment."

"You’re doing it personally?"

"Yes, I’ll do it personally, I won’t delegate it to students, not to postdocs, I’ll be the chief surgeon, administer the injections, and record the data myself. I’m seventy-eight years old, my hands may not be as steady as before, but my heart is steadier than ever."

Weber’s flight back to Germany was scheduled for the following Wednesday.

The week before he left, he practically lived in the animal room. He visited M7 every morning, went to see M7 in the afternoon, and before bed at night, he had to take a look. Fritz brought him a chair and placed it next to M7’s cage, where Weber sat with a notebook, recording M7’s condition moment by moment.

"10:23, M7 walked from the east side of the cage to the west side, approximately 2.5 meters, taking 18 seconds, gait stable, no lameness observed."

"14:07, M7 independently climbed onto the lowest perch, height 25 cm, took 6 seconds, upper limb strength significantly increased, lower limb coordination reasonable."

...

Every evening, Alina would come to the animal room to find him, sometimes bringing a piece of apple pie, sometimes a cup of tea. Weber would take the pie and continue writing while eating. Alina would sit on the chair beside him, not speaking, just accompanying him.

"Carl," Alina finally spoke on the last evening, "after you return, how long will it take to complete?"

Weber said, "If everything goes smoothly, three months, the first batch of three animals, with one month pre-surgery training, a week for surgery, eight weeks of postoperative observation, two weeks for data sorting and analysis, totaling three and a half months."

"And then?"

"Then take the data to China and compare with Professor Yang. If the results are consistent, publish the paper; if not, redo it here."

Alina looked at him, looking at the man she walked beside for over forty years. His hair was completely white, and age spots increased on his hands, but his eyes still shone brightly, like those of a young man.

"You’ve changed," she said.

"Changed?"

"You used to not trust others. You felt only data generated by your own laboratory was reliable, and others’ data must be doubted. But now, you trust Professor Yang’s judgment."

Weber was silent for a few seconds.

"Because Professor Yang is trustworthy," he said, "he is the smartest person in the world."

On Wednesday morning, Weber and Alina stood at the institute’s entrance waiting for a car, with Yang Ping and others there to see them off.

"Professor Weber, if you need anything in Germany, feel free to contact us."

"I know," Weber said, "Professor Yang, there’s something I’ve been thinking over this past week, and if I don’t say it now, I may not get another chance."

"Please, go ahead."

"In my life, I’ve made many choices. Choosing stem cell research, choosing to go to Heidelberg, choosing to accept the Nobel Prize. But the most important choice was the moment I saw the three-dimensional guidance gene theory and primordial cell activation in your paper and decided to write you that email."

He paused.

"It was because of that email that I finally became involved in something great."

Yang Ping extended his hand, and Weber took it in a firm handshake.

"Co-travelers!"

"Yes, co-travelers."

The car arrived, and Weber and Alina got in. As the car started, Weber rolled down the window, leaned out, and said one last thing: "Professor Yang, see you in three months. Should I open that champagne I’m bringing in Germany, or bring it back to open here?"

"Bring it back; M7’s champagne must be opened in front of M7."

Weber smiled as the car window rolled up, and the car drove out of the institute’s gate.

Yang Ping stood on the steps, watching the black business car disappear around the corner of the street. The autumn wind swirled a few plane tree leaves on the ground before stopping at the roadside.

He turned and walked back into the institute, with the corridor quiet. The door to the rehabilitation training room was closed, but through the glass window, Chen Jianguo could be seen doing standing exercises. He grasped the parallel bars, standing more upright than before, his back straight. Sister Li stood beside him with a towel in hand and a subtle but confident smile on her face.

There were a few more sticky notes on the wall. "Jianguo stood for nine minutes today," "M7 can walk," "Professor Weber has returned to Germany."

Yang Ping stood before the notes for a while, not touching them.

These words weren’t written for now; they were written for the future.

The day after Weber returned to Heidelberg, he sent Yang Ping an email.

The subject of the email was "Arrived, will start work tomorrow." The body contained only one sentence: "It snowed in Heidelberg today, very lightly, melting as it reached the ground. I miss M7 dearly."

Yang Ping replied: "M7 misses you too. Fritz said it looked three times today towards the direction of the chair you often sit on."

Weber didn’t reply again, and Yang Ping knew he had already started working.

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