Free Web NovelChapter 2127: Chapter 1787:
"You’re using your logic to think about its path, but you should use its logic to walk its path."
Manstein was stunned: "What do you mean?"
"Nerve cells have been growing for hundreds of millions of years. Their navigation system is more precise than any navigation system we’ve designed. Don’t decide where they should go; instead, ask them where they want to go and create conditions that allow them to go there. You’re not leading the way, they’re recognizing the way. You’re just removing the stones that block the path. Similarly, why can’t nerve cells undergo original cell repair while bones can? Have you considered this problem from a deeper logical level?"
This conversation changed Manstein’s research direction for the next few years.
He shifted from "active guidance" to "passive allowance," no longer attempting to "command" the axon’s growth direction with exogenous signaling molecules. Instead, using gene editing technology, he systematically "turned off" endogenous factors that inhibit axon growth, allowing the axon to explore, choose, and find the direction it should go. Like a child learning to walk, you don’t take steps for them; you just clear the obstacles from the ground, and they will walk by themselves.
This transformation’s effect was quickly reflected in the experimental data. They achieved the prototype of "functional regeneration" for the first time, with the axon’s growth direction changing from "random" to "oriented," extending in the direction of the white matter tract after crossing the injury area. It was a glimmer of hope, but not enough. The animals showed mild improvement in motor function, but still far from "normal." Manstein knew they were still at the threshold, with one foot inside the door and one foot outside.
However, the experiment stalled at mild improvement, with no further progress. After deep discussions with Yang Ping, he decisively abandoned the original route.
Even though they had achieved certain success, he had to painfully let go because Yang Ping told him the approach was wrong; they must begin with original cell repair to have any chance of success.
He thought he should try original cell repair instead of just axon growth crawling, even though the latter also applied the three-dimensional spatial orientation gene theory.
This time, he succeeded. The repair of spinal cord injury was not about axon growth cross-over but repair, not a scar but original cell repair. This was the closest the entire field had come to "cure" in fifteen years.
He sat in front of the microscope, looking at the nerves glowing with fluorescent markers that had traversed the injury area, like luminous meteors in the dark field. He watched for a long time and then picked up his phone to send a message to Yang Ping.
"Your theory is amazing, I’ve achieved 14% original cell repair for spinal cord injury."
Last time, there were only scattered presences.
Yang Ping replied: "Congratulations!"
Manstein looked at those two words and smiled happily. ƒгeewebnovёl.com
Manstein sent the entire experiment written into a paper to Yang Ping, which Yang Ping finished reading in one morning.
Sitting in the institute’s office, watching the text scroll line by line on the screen, he read every data, every chart, every conclusion slowly. It wasn’t that he couldn’t understand; he didn’t want to read it quickly. Manstein poured fifteen years of life into this paper, over five thousand days and nights, countless times nearing success only to fall back into the valley of struggle; he didn’t want to consume it in just thirty minutes.
Upon reading the final conclusion, Yang Ping paused.
He pushed his chair back, rested against the backrest.
In his mind, he wasn’t thinking about Manstein, but a person he had never met. A future person, possibly lying on the operating table one day. That person could be a young person injured in a car crash, a worker who fell from a height, or an ordinary person sentenced to a lifetime of paralysis due to spinal cord injury. If Manstein’s research continues, if "original cell repair" transitions from animal experiments to clinical application, that person will be saved. That person will stand up and walk, run, and do everything they currently can’t.
Yang Ping picked up his phone and sent Manstein a message. freēwebnovel.com
"I’ve finished reading it; this is the most important paper of the year, bar none. It’s also the most important day of your fifteen years."
Manstein’s reply came quickly, not in text but in voice. Yang Ping opened it, and Manstein’s voice flowed from the phone.
"Professor, do you know what I regret most in the past fifteen years?"
Yang Ping didn’t reply; he knew Manstein wasn’t truly asking him.
"Arrogance! The arrogance after the Nobel Prize. I thought with my fame and resources, there was no fortress I couldn’t conquer. I tried all the paths I believed ’correct,’ yet forgot the more basic issues. That phone call from you, where you said, ’You’re using your logic to think about its path, you should use its logic to walk its path.’ Those forty minutes were more useful than all the literature I had read in the past fifteen years. Science, in the end, isn’t about experimental technique but the way you think about problems. Your way of thinking about problems is the most unique I’ve encountered, and the only one that let me out of that dead-end."
"Later, I just thought, why not try your theory."
After listening to this voice message, Yang Ping didn’t immediately reply.
He remembered when he first started thinking about these problems, many issues hadn’t yet occurred. Conditions only later allowed them to be realized.
Thinking about the three-dimensional spatial orientation gene, back when he was a newly graduated resident doctor, bustling between the ward and operating room without much personal time. He could only read during night shifts, take notes during surgery breaks, and contemplate on the subway ride home. His notebook was filled with chaotic drawings, diagrams of cell signaling pathways, sketches of gene regulation networks, anatomical drawings, and data copied from literature—things that seemed a mess to others but were slowly becoming a clear map for him.
It took a long time to complete this map, and upon completion, he realized every road on it led to the same place.
Actually, later on, the system never gave him ’ideas,’ but it provided him with an abundance of time and opportunities for trial and error.
Sometimes he thought, everyone has had some whimsical ideas at some point, but in the end, most of these ideas get stifled and worn away, while he was fortunate to attempt them with minimal cost.
That evening, Yang Ping didn’t stay at the institute. He turned off the lights, locked the door, and descended the stairs. The voice-activated lights in the hallway clicked on one by one and went off one by one behind him. His footsteps echoed in the empty stairwell, like an ancient rhythm only he could understand.
When he exited the institute’s door, Nandu’s night wind rushed at him. He stood at the entrance, took a deep breath, then raised his head to look at the sky overhead. The night sky was starless, only clouds—gray-white, thin clouds—slowly shifting under the city’s light. But beyond the clouds, he knew, the stars were still there; they’ve always been there, just out of sight.
He remembered what Manstein said in the voice message: "The only thing that helped me out of that dead-end."
Research sometimes is like this; a moment of insight, just one instant can make things click. Without that flash of insight, things might not click in a lifetime.
That evening, Yang Ping didn’t stay at the institute. He turned off the lights, locked the door, and descended the stairs. The voice-activated lights in the hallway clicked on one by one and went off one by one behind him. His footsteps echoed in the empty stairwell, like an ancient rhythm only he could understand.
When he exited the institute’s door, Nandu’s night wind rushed at him. He stood at the entrance, took a deep breath, then raised his head to look at the sky overhead. The night sky was starless, only clouds—gray-white, thin clouds—slowly shifting under the city’s light. But beyond the clouds, he knew, the stars were still there; they’ve always been there, just out of sight.
He remembered what Manstein said in the voice message: "The only thing that helped me out of that dead-end."
Research sometimes is like this; a moment of insight, just one instant can make things click. Without that flash of insight, things might not click in a lifetime.
