Chapter 105: A Night of Reckoning and Revelations

Director Lou led them back to the Emergency Department, a broad smile never leaving his face along the way.

The atmosphere felt as festive as a holiday celebration.

Only Dr. Lu kept his head bowed in silence.

Inside the meeting room, he truly experienced what it meant to be utterly humiliated.

When the team leader lambasted the Emergency Department for a drastic decline in surgical quality—citing several procedures with shockingly low scores—Dr. Lu paid no heed.

They had assumed the newcomers, Zhou Can and Jin Mingxi, were to blame.

However, a thorough review showed that Zhou Can’s surgeries each scored over 9.5, while Jin Mingxi’s were a close 8.5 or higher—both exemplary.

He never expected that his and Dr. Lin’s ratings would plunge so low.

Especially since Deputy Director Ye had even singled him out for criticism.

At that moment, Dr. Lu wished he could just hide under the table.

“Dr. Xu, great job today! Director Xie is a man of stature. I’m confident that for now, the Emergency Department won’t lose out on specialized outpatient surgeries. But it’s also a wake-up call for us to clamp down on quality control.”

Director Lou once held grand ambitions, but with no one loyal to him, he had to bide his time.

Recruiting Zhou Can and Jin Mingxi this time unexpectedly opened up new opportunities in surgical practice.

Moreover, even when Director Xie suppressed them twice, the Emergency Department held its ground.

That made Director Lou realize that talented personnel are the core foundation for any department’s success.

It also steeled his resolve to deal harshly with those who coast along.

Any department or enterprise striving for greatness must have a ruthless competitive mechanism.

Otherwise, if average veterans simply occupy the positions, the department will never excel.

Dr. Xu turned to look at the crestfallen Dr. Lu.

“Dr. Lu, you clearly have talent, and lately you’ve become much more diligent. I trust that once you recognize your limits, you’ll find the drive to improve your techniques and attitude in surgery.”

That was practically a defense for Dr. Lu.

“Yes, yes—I’ll work even harder. Please, Director Lou, give me one more chance.”

Dr. Lu’s desperate will to survive was palpable.

He was painfully aware that Director Lou might already be considering cutting him loose.

Dr. Xu, though usually strict and unyielding when reprimanding, had a soft heart for his fellow doctors and nurses.

But Director Lou was different.

As leader of the Emergency Department, he knew when to be ruthless.

Just like yesterday when Nurse Tian Tian made a mistake—no matter how pitiful her act, Director Lou showed no reluctance to enforce discipline.

When punishment was due, he did not hesitate.

“Little Lu, you’re practically a veteran of the Emergency Department by now. I won’t beat around the bush: You’ve been given countless chances, yet you’ve never truly valued them. You agree in words but falter in action. This is your final opportunity; I sincerely hope you’ll become a reliable surgeon.”

Director Lou delivered these words in front of both Zhou Can and Jin Mingxi.

In warning Dr. Lu, he was also sending a clear message to the newcomers.

Zhou Can had long been familiar with the ruthlessness of the workplace.

He maintained a calm exterior.

He had worked tirelessly without ever slacking, and thus, he feared no competition.

Indeed, his position in the Emergency Department was growing ever more secure as competition only sharpened his skills.

……

After work, he and Jin Mingxi left the Emergency Building together.

“It’s dinner time! Let’s hit the canteen for a bite!”

Jin Mingxi laughed.

“With you grinning like that, I bet Dr. Xu has already restored your independent surgical privileges for tomorrow!”

Zhou Can teased.

The Emergency Department Operating Room had only a few staff, and with Dr. Lu’s flagging performance, his privileges were sure to be revoked.

For the department’s sake, it was almost certain that Jin Mingxi’s privileges would be reinstated.

“Hehe, you guessed it! Amazing—tonight I’ll throw in a chicken leg!”

Jin Mingxi was in high spirits.

After being stripped of his independent surgical privileges for over two weeks, he was nearly depressed.

Now that things were turning around, how could he not be happy?

“The chicken leg is yours—just remember it for tomorrow, and invite me next time. I have a recovered patient inviting me for dinner tonight, so I can’t join you.”

Zhou Can was known for his integrity.

Mr. Cui had arranged to have dinner with him a few days earlier at his home.

Had he finished work earlier, he’d have reached by five.

Today, however, delays kept him later than expected—hopefully Mr. Cui and his wife wouldn’t be kept waiting too long.

“You’re so lucky! Why is it I never catch such breaks? Go on, and bring back something tasty for me!”

Jin Mingxi’s face displayed sheer envy.

He thought Zhou Can’s luck was remarkably good.

Great opportunities seemed to come to him easily.

Yet he hadn’t considered that Zhou Can had risked his residency exam eligibility to save a life just to earn this dinner.

Good deeds truly do beget good rewards.

At the hospital entrance, taxis were never scarce—even during rush hour, shrewd drivers still came by to pick up fares.

Zhou Can flagged down one and hopped in.

“Driver, take me to Jiangxin Garden!”

“Whoa, that’s a well-known upscale neighborhood with stringent security! Without a homeowner’s escort, outside vehicles simply can’t get in.”

The taxi driver eyed Zhou Can, who looked every bit the gentleman of means.

Yet he seemed a bit uncertain.

After all, residents of Jiangxin Garden are either wealthy or high-ranking, each worth hundreds of millions at least.

In this city, buoyed by soaring real estate prices, many longtime locals had profited handsomely from redevelopment, picking up two or three apartments along with generous compensation and relocation fees.

Millionaires were common, but billionaires were extremely rare.

“No worries—just drop me off at the gate.”

Zhou Can didn’t mind.

He was well aware of Jiangxin Garden’s strict security.

This ride was a rare chance to glimpse the lifestyle of the super rich.

Once the car started moving, he noticed it was nearly six and decided to call Mr. Cui.

It was said that wealthy people kept to a strict routine.

According to traditional Chinese medicine, dinner should be finished by five, with no food until the next morning.

Some even practiced a stricter regimen called ‘noon fasting.’

That is, after midday, one would not eat until the following day. Although said to benefit cardiovascular health, no definitive research confirmed it.

Zhou Can knew that many affluent individuals, unless haggling over business, would dine around 4:30 PM and then spend the rest of the evening reading or simply enjoying life.

The phone rang twice before being answered.

Generally, those who answer within three rings are seen as honest and courteous.

“Dr. Zhou, are you off work?”

“Mr. Cui, I’m sorry—it took longer than expected due to an issue in the operating room. I’m on my way to your place now. The driver mentioned that without a homeowner to escort me, I can’t get into Jiangxin Garden.”

“I’ll meet you at the community gate. You remember what I look like, right?”

Mr. Cui laughed.

“Of course—otherwise, how would you expect to mooch a meal at my place?”

Zhou Can felt unpressured facing such a wealthy man.

After all, he had some means himself, and Mr. Cui was a friendly, unpretentious sort.

If Mr. Cui were haughty, Zhou Can wouldn’t have bothered.

“Haha, Dr. Zhou, you sure know how to joke! I’m in my cooking apron, waiting at the community gate,” Mr. Cui added, likely while already in the kitchen.

Seeing him in an apron was quite a sight.

It revealed that Mr. Cui was refreshingly unconventional, unconcerned with appearances.

It also showed that he truly regarded Zhou Can as a friend.

After all, a man of his stature would normally be far more careful.

“I’ll need at least another half hour, so I’ll call you when I arrive,” Zhou Can said, not wanting to keep him waiting.

“No worries—I’m really glad you’re coming. The ingredients are ready, my wife is cooking, and I’ve already greeted the security. Next time you drop by, it’ll be even easier.”

Mr. Cui’s genuine warmth shone through.

After 36 minutes, Zhou Can finally arrived at Jiangxin Garden.

At the entrance stood a stone monument over two meters high, engraved with the four characters of Jiangxin Garden.

Everything else, however, was rather plain.

A paved road led to Jiangxin Island, bordered by neatly constructed walkways.

After paying the fare, Zhou Can stepped out.

Mr. Cui, clad in a dark apron, hurried over from the security booth.

At that moment, a black Audi pulled up in front of the gate’s barrier.

“Mr. Cui, are you picking up a friend?”

A woman in her forties leaned out of the window with a smile, greeting Mr. Cui.

Her attire was notably upscale.

She carried herself with elegance.

“Yes, yes! This is a very esteemed guest I managed to invite,” Mr. Cui remarked, showing genuine respect for Zhou Can.

“Hello!”

The woman greeted Zhou Can with a warm smile.

“Alright!”

Zhou Can nodded politely.

“I must be off now—I need to hurry back to cook for Mrs. Cui!”

The woman waved and drove back into the community.

“She’s the housekeeper hired by my next-door neighbor, an elderly man whose children are too busy. That’s why she was employed to take care of him,” Mr. Cui explained.

Mr. Cui introduced her to Zhou Can.

Zhou Can almost couldn’t believe his eyes.

Holy smokes!

Driving an Audi and dressed more elegantly than most white-collar workers—yet she was just a housekeeper.

This truly challenged Zhou Can’s perceptions.

“Hehe, don’t be surprised. In this upscale community, a housekeeper earns at least 30,000 a month with a 13th-month bonus. But the hiring standards are extremely high,” Mr. Cui explained with a laugh.

“Wow, 30,000 a month! That’s even more than most attending doctors earn at our hospital. I really learned something new today.”

At Tuyu Hospital, an attending doctor’s regular income is around 20,000.

Who would have thought that a housekeeper’s salary could be that high?

No wonder she drives an Audi and wears high-end clothes.

“Haha, doctors aren’t in it for the money anyway. Besides, high-earning doctors are usually at least deputy senior; I know that in many large hospitals in coastal southern cities, deputy chief physicians often earn over 1.2 million annually.”

Mr. Cui laughed heartily.

Even though online critics boast multi-million incomes, in China, even in top-tier cities, a monthly income above 50,000 is considered high.

Most ordinary people earn only a few thousand a month.

In some impoverished or remote areas, yearly incomes can be as low as a few hundred.

The medical profession is known for its stable growth.

After attaining a deputy senior title, a doctor’s income nearly doubles compared to an attending physician’s.

Mr. Cui led Zhou Can into the security booth.

“This is my friend. Please register his access in the system.”

Inside, two guards stood at attention.

Both were upright, steady, and alert, exuding a hint of military precision—likely ex-servicemen.

“Dr. Zhou, please face the camera so we can capture your facial and iris data. For added security, if you agree, you can also leave your fingerprint by pressing here.”

The guard guided Zhou Can through the facial recognition registration.

In this high-end community, access wasn’t via cards but through facial, iris, or even fingerprint verification if needed.

The guard’s ability to call him by name showed Mr. Cui had already coordinated with them.

“All set! From now on, just have the camera scan your face when you enter Jiangxin Garden.”

The guard explained.

“Thank you!”

Zhou Can felt that the registration was unnecessary, but Mr. Cui’s genuine hospitality left him no choice.

Maybe he’d drop by more often when he had time—he didn’t have many friends, and a friend like Mr. Cui was truly worth nurturing.

“Mr. Cui has been waiting here for nearly half an hour. We’ve never seen him pay such attention to any guest before. You two must be very good friends.”

The guard was particularly curious about Zhou Can’s identity.

For someone so young to be so highly regarded by Mr. Cui, there could only be a few reasons.

“Hehe, indeed, Mr. Cui and I share a unique bond,”

Zhou Can admitted, without any denial.

Especially after learning that Mr. Cui had waited over half an hour for him, he felt this friendship was truly special.

Small details spoke volumes about the sincerity in Mr. Cui’s gestures.

“I didn’t drive here—it’s close enough—let’s walk together!”

“Sure!”

Zhou Can suspected Mr. Cui wanted to chat more along the way.

The island boasted breathtaking scenery—rolling waves, and rows of exquisite villas with their own private gardens.

Many were impeccably maintained, with some even featuring underground pools.

Wealth truly is an indulgence.

The two strolled and chatted; at first, they avoided overly personal topics.

But as they grew more comfortable, the conversation turned to family and life itself.

“We’re almost at my place,” Mr. Cui announced as he pointed to the door number on a pillar.

“Just remember—it’s number 9. And if you forget, look for the dragon in front of my garage.”

Zhou Can looked up to see a golden dragon sprawled across the villa’s entry pavilion.

Majestic and bold, it made a striking impression.

“That doesn’t suit you, Mr. Cui! Your wife seems quite low-key—why opt for such an ostentatious golden dragon?” Zhou Can joked, now comfortable enough to tease.

Otherwise, he would have offered lavish praise instead of commenting on its flamboyance.

“When my son was born, I was young and had tasted a bit of business success. I bought this villa that very year and, in my excitement, had this golden dragon commissioned. Later, as I grew older, I toned it down. But since my son went overseas and rarely returns, I couldn’t bear to change it—it constantly reminds me of him.”

Mr. Cui explained the story behind the golden dragon.

Zhou Can could relate deeply.

Though he didn’t have a son yet, he understood the heartache of separation—leaving his parents in a distant county while studying in the provincial capital, rarely seeing home.

Sometimes, mementos with special meaning eased that pang of homesickness.

“Qin, I’ve picked up Dr. Zhou!” Mr. Cui called out toward the house.

Hearing this, a refined woman in an apron—Yi Qin, whom he’d met once before—hurried out.

“Dr. Zhou, come in quickly!”

Yi Qin exemplified grace, both as a hostess and in the kitchen—a model of refined womanhood.

“No need to remove your shoes, just come on in!”

The couple warmly welcomed Zhou Can, making him feel like an honored guest.

He first entered an immense double-height living room.

The decor was classically Chinese, with elegant redwood furniture.

Armchairs, round chairs, six-panel screens, long tables, and Eight Immortals tables—the kind of high-end antiques one only sees in historical dramas.

“Dr. Zhou, what do you think of the decor? The obvious statement made by that flamboyant golden dragon shows your refined taste. I’d love to hear your opinion.”

Mr. Cui’s careful attention to design was evident.

Yi Qin served tea to Zhou Can.

“Dr. Zhou, please have some tea!”

She used a vintage three-candidate covered cup that exuded rich antiquity; the tea’s aroma was refreshingly premium.

“Thanks, I appreciate it!”

Zhou Can accepted the tea with both hands and set it on the coffee table.

He surveyed the living room, taking in its overall design.

Not rushing off to the kitchen, Yi Qin wiped her hands on her apron and smiled, waiting eagerly for Zhou Can’s critique.

“Mr. Cui, Madam, I’m not really an expert in decor. If I say something off, please don’t mind me.”

“Not at all—we just want your honest opinion. My business acquaintances would only offer empty praise,” Mr. Cui waved dismissively.

“You, Mr. Cui, always say the decor lacks a certain charm, yet you can’t pinpoint why. I’m truly seeking your advice!”

Yi Qin chimed in supportively.

“Then allow me to be frank. Upon entering the living room, one doesn’t sense refined antiquity, but rather overwhelming luxury. Look at those beautiful floor tiles—their modern vibe is too pronounced. And that grand crystal chandelier complements them to create an extravagant feel. Yet the antique furniture, classical wall art, vintage window frames, and intricately carved pillars all exude a timeless charm.”

“Combined, they create more of a hodgepodge than a cohesive style,”

Zhou Can offered his insights.

Having trained in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting since childhood, he was well-equipped to appraise aesthetics.

“Please, go on,” Mr. Cui urged, his expression a mix of anticipation and nervousness.

“From the strong antique vibe of the furniture, walls, and pillars, it seems you aimed for a classical, grand, and luxurious atmosphere,” Zhou Can observed.

No sooner had he finished speaking than Mr. Cui nodded vigorously.

“Yes, yes—you’ve said exactly what I feel. Dr. Zhou truly is a master.”

Mr. Cui had lost hope initially, but Zhou Can’s candid feedback had elevated his regard—and his expectations.

Yi Qin looked on in mild surprise.

She hadn’t expected this young man to embody not only high medical ethics but also exceptional taste.

“Mr. Cui, if you really want to create that ambiance, you might need to revamp the decor completely—replace the modern floor tiles with vintage clay ones, swap that ostentatious crystal chandelier for one with a more classical touch (perhaps an Eight Views chandelier), and tone down the carvings to a more understated luxury style. Too many dragons and phoenixes feel forced. Maybe ornate floral designs would add a subtle scholarly elegance.”

In ancient times, all pursuits were deemed secondary—only the pursuit of knowledge was paramount.

True prestige wasn’t measured by wealth but by merit, accomplishments, and status.

“In summary, it’s two principles: Emphasize refined simplicity over gaudy beauty; celebrate bold, classic elegance rather than delicate, overly ornate details.”

Zhou Can rounded off his critique with this summative remark.

Clap, clap, clap!

Outside, the sound of clapping erupted.

A man in his forties with scruffy facial hair, dressed in worn dark sweatpants and a simple tank top, appeared.

His long, unkempt hair and a gaze filled with the confusion of youth set him apart.

Certainly, anyone casually allowed into Mr. Cui’s home wasn’t ordinary.

“Mr. Li!”

Both Mr. Cui and his wife greeted the man warmly—they clearly knew him well.

“We’re out of soy sauce at my place. I came hoping to borrow some, and I ended up hearing your brilliant review. I was amazed—I thought Mr. Cui had invited a master designer in his sixties or seventies before I even stepped in.”

Mr. Li lavished high praise on Zhou Can’s earlier critique.

Looking at Zhou Can, aside from curiosity there was also a deep sense of admiration—a meeting of kindred spirits.

“You flatter me!”

Zhou Can, uncertain of Mr. Li’s exact identity, replied humbly.

Polite and modest, he exchanged courteous words without revealing too much.