"Hand-eye coordination," Yang Ping stood behind him, his voice calm, "Hand-eye separation, triangulation! This is the basic skill of laparoscopic surgery. There’s a transformation of coordinates between the image your eyes see and the actual movements of your hands. Your brain needs to be reprogrammed."

Zhaxi nodded and continued practicing. One, two, three... He transferred the beans one by one, getting faster and making fewer mistakes. After half an hour, he could transfer ten beans in a minute without dropping any on the ground.

"Good, switch to the next module."

The next module was perforation training. Inside the box was a training board with holes in various shapes—circular, square, triangular, and irregular. He needed to use the laparoscope needle holder to thread a suture through these holes, following a specified sequence and path. The purpose of this training was to enhance spatial positioning and path planning ability under the laparoscope.

Zhaxi tried a few times and found it much harder than moving beans. The suture was soft and difficult to control in direction under the laparoscope, and the holes were small, requiring very precise positioning. Several times, he put the suture through the wrong hole, or halfway through, the suture bent and got stuck in the hole.

"Take it slow!" Yang Ping said, "Laparoscopic surgery is not about speed; it’s about precision. Speed can be improved gradually, but precision must be established from the start."

Zhaxi slowed down, confirming the direction with each threading, then the path, before executing in one go. Gradually, his hands and eyes started to coordinate. When his eyes saw the position of the hole, his hands could automatically adjust the direction and angle of the instruments, no longer requiring conscious calculation by his brain. It was a wonderful feeling, like his hands had learned to think on their own.

"Try the suture knotting module as well, cross-training can be done, not necessarily in strict order," Yang Ping noticed Zhaxi had grasped a little bit of the feel.

On the monitor, the pink simulated tissue was magnified several times, with a dense coordinate grid printed on the surface. His left hand held the laparoscopic grasper, while his right hand held the needle holder. Both hands controlled the instruments inside the box through the fixed pivot point of the trocar hole. His eyes were fixed on the screen, breathing slowly, an experience he discovered himself: once his breathing became rapid, his hands would start to tremble.

He painstakingly stitched two stitches and began the third.

The first two stitches had already been knotted, lying quietly to the left of the incision, a bit crooked. The third stitch had just pierced through the tissue, emerging from the opposite side. He clamped the needle tip with the grasper, gently pulling it out, then released the needle holder and reclamped the needle body, preparing to knot.

Knotting under the laparoscope is the most patience-testing step. Without the tactile sensation of directly touching the material with fingers, all tension judgments have to be transmitted through the thirty-centimeter-long instruments. The arm’s length is long, the force point is far, and any slight error could cause the knot to loosen. He wrapped the suture around the needle holder, wrapped it twice, then clamped the end with the grasper and gently tightened it. The first knot was made. He changed directions, wrapped it once more, and tightened it. Second knot. Wrapped once more, tightened again. Third knot.

The knot was secured on the tissue surface. He cut the tail of the suture with the grasper, leaving a tidy short end.

Stitching three stitches took a lot of effort, and the quality couldn’t be talked about, just completing it was considered good.

"Any operation is like swimming; theory is only a guide, ultimately you have to experience, ponder, and practice it proficiently on your own, practice slowly, don’t tire yourself too much."

After Yang Ping finished speaking, he left.