Chapter 107: A Life on the Edge

Who knows what ailment this woman, Qiu Jie, is suffering from?

Zhou Can thought that if he could cure her leg condition, perhaps he could help her regain her confidence and shake off her pessimism.

“Mr. Li…”

“Stop calling me Mr. Li—why not call me Luo Ge?” Under the influence of alcohol, Luo Ge’s face was flushed red, though his eyes no longer appeared lost.

Many people become muddled when they’re drunk.

But Luo Ge was different—drinking seemed to clear his mind.

This reminded Zhou Can of Li Bai’s famous sentiment: ‘While the world is drunk, I remain sober.’ People revere Li Bai as a poetic genius, yet few recall he was known as a notorious drunkard.

In many ways, Luo Ge and Li Bai shared striking similarities.

Both possessed brilliant, dazzling talents.

Both concealed deep frustrations and a sense of unfulfillment.

And both had a fondness for alcohol.

“Luo Ge, may I ask about your wife’s leg? As doctors, we often fall into our habits—when I shook her hand earlier, I noticed it was unusually cold, which could indicate poor upper limb circulation.”

Zhou Can’s question came from genuine concern.

He simply wanted to see if he could help resolve her leg problem and restore her zest for living.

“Alas, it’s partly my fault. Years ago, when my wife was expecting our child—at a time when she needed support more than ever—I was riding high in my career as the youngest Vice President at Tianyu Interactive, contending for the CEO position against two other vice presidents. One had powerful connections and ample capital, and the other was a veteran powerhouse.”

“Both were far stronger than me. But I have a flaw—the tougher the opponent, the more fired up I get. I was determined to overcome them and become CEO.”

Luo Ge recounted those career-high moments with a spark of determination that shone through his once-doubtful eyes.

Just as his wife had noted, his heart was always set on his career.

Every man has ambitions.

Especially a talented man like Luo Ge, who longed to make a significant mark in his field.

Now he spends his days by his wife’s side, living a life that verged on seclusion.

It was as if he had caged a fierce tiger.

Inside, he constantly yearned for a day when he could return to the wild, roar aloud, and reclaim his once-formidable prowess, vitality, and passion.

“Back then, I couldn’t be there for my wife or care for her. My chaotic work schedule led me to miss her calls. Later, after my team and I fought tirelessly to defeat those two vice presidents, our project clinched first place.”

“But just as my superiors were about to appoint me as CEO, I received a hospital call. They said my wife had collapsed at home without anyone noticing, and by the time she arrived, our child was lost. She nearly died and ended up with paralyzed legs. In that moment, I realized I had lost the most precious thing in my life.”

At this point, Luo Ge’s tears flowed freely as he downed a cup of wine in one go.

Qiu Jie was also quietly weeping.

Losing a child and suffering leg paralysis was a cost too high to bear.

“That day, I decided—what’s the point of being CEO without her? I quit my job and stayed at the hospital by her side. There were times when she even contemplated ending her own life, and I was filled with endless regret. Thankfully, after years together, she no longer entertained such thoughts and started to rediscover a spark for life.”

Luo Ge squeezed his wife’s hand tightly.

The scene was deeply moving.

Once their emotions had settled, Zhou Can continued, “Medically, a miscarriage shouldn’t lead to leg paralysis! Has she been examined at a major hospital?”

A miscarriage can cause heavy bleeding or infections, sometimes leaving lasting damage.

For instance, it might make future pregnancies difficult.

But no one has ever reported a miscarriage directly causing paralysis.

“She’s been to all the top hospitals—consulted with every renowned specialist—yet they all confessed they were at a loss.”

This time, Qiu Jie answered.

By now, she should have overcome the grief of losing her child.

But what tormented her now was the paralysis in her legs.

She probably dreams of healing them every night.

“Paralysis usually points to nerve issues. What exactly did the top doctors find?”

Zhou Can had long suspected that her condition would be difficult to treat.

After all, residents of Jiangxin Garden must have money.

Even though the nation’s top hospitals boast world-class nerve specialists, after countless consultations, they all professed helplessness. The challenge here is undeniably monumental.

“They conducted blood tests, EKGs, CT scans, MRIs, transcranial Dopplers, and carotid ultrasounds—practically every check imaginable. They even consulted a few veteran TCM doctors. Their diagnoses ranged from virus-induced nerve damage during the miscarriage, brain nerve injury, to suspected damage or rupture of spinal nerves.”

“Not one doctor could pinpoint the cause. Medications, injections, various rehabilitation therapies—nothing worked.”

Her eyes shone with despair as she recounted all this.

Nothing is more devastating than hope repeatedly dashed, leaving the heart empty and utterly despondent.

“Could I take a look at her reports? I mean no harm—just to learn and study. Perhaps, after consulting with my mentor, we might pinpoint the exact cause and find hope.”

Zhou Can was just a resident; he wasn’t arrogant enough to dismiss the renowned specialists.

He only acted out of compassion, wanting to help a new friend in need.

“Sure, I have the reports on my phone. Just add me on WeChat and I’ll send them over,” Luo Ge replied without hesitation.

Yet, he admitted privately that he had little hope.

After all, so many top doctors had reviewed them, and Zhou Can was still a young resident. Even Tuyu Hospital’s physicians were only marginally more skilled than those at county hospitals.

They certainly couldn’t rival the famed experts from the field.

He had stored all the examination data on his phone for easy consultation with doctors.

Nowadays, X-ray films aren’t even routinely printed.

Some hospitals, to ease patients’ burdens, now let them print images on their own if they don’t have special needs.

The images are uploaded directly into the hospital’s digital records.

A doctor can simply type in a name to retrieve the records.

This alone saves patients well over a million yuan each year.

After Zhou Can received the reports from Luo Ge, he examined each page meticulously.

Having reviewed everything, he couldn’t find any significant clues.

It made sense—if so many top doctors couldn’t determine the cause, expecting a resident to do so would be nothing short of miraculous.

“My expertise is limited—I couldn’t locate the issue. Tomorrow, I’ll ask my mentor for help.”

Zhou Can then tucked his phone away.

“Thank you!”

Luo Ge lifted his glass in a toast.

They clinked their glasses together.

Luo Ge reached for more wine, but his wife prevented him from pouring any more.

“Don’t drink any more—you’ve already had several cups today,” she urged.

Her gentle admonition was clear.

“I’m just happy, you know—meeting you, Zhou Can, has been wonderful. We share so many views and truly connect on many levels,” he slurred a bit.

He was clearly tipsy.

With one hand, he draped it over Zhou Can’s shoulder.

“Zhou Can, I’m really glad I met you. My wife isn’t letting me drink any more today; we’ll have another round together some other day.”

His words earned amused smiles from Mr. Cui and his wife.

Men who are cautious about their wives can be surprisingly endearing.

After several rounds of drinks and a full meal, everyone had nearly finished eating.

Zhou Can stood up to leave.

“Zhou Can, let me see you home!”

“I can’t let you drive after drinking—just take a cab. Many thanks to Brother Cui and his wife for your generous hospitality. Goodbye.”

Zhou Can hadn’t drunk much—probably only three or four cups.

“Luo Ge, Qiu Jie, goodbye!”

“Drop by sometime—you live right next to Brother Cui. We’re always at home,” Qiu Jie said.

At that moment, Luo Ge was so drunk his steps faltered.

Still, he waved and grinned goofily at Zhou Can.

“I will!”

Zhou Can left the villa, only to be chased by Mr. Cui, who insisted on seeing him off.

“Brother Cui, please wait!”

Zhou Can turned and waved him off.

“Take care on your way! Let me know when you’re safely home.”

Mr. Cui raised his phone as he spoke.

He was mainly worried because he knew Zhou Can had been drinking.

“Alright!”

Zhou Can’s mind was clear, and his actions unimpaired.

He ordered a ride using an app.

When he left Jiangxin Garden, the ride-sharing car was already waiting at the gate.

Modern technology has truly made life convenient in every way.

…

Back at his apartment, Zhou Can even brought some food for Jin Mingxi.

“A king crab, half a box of caviar, and some ham.”

He had found the ham particularly tasty, so he saved some in a disposable container.

“Wow, did you just have a five-star meal? King crab, caviar—my goodness! These premium ingredients are reserved for the wealthy.”

Attracted by the aroma, Jin Mingxi forgot all about practicing her Rapid Surgical Technique.

She leaped off the bed, eager to feast.

“This ham may look plain, but I bet it’s extraordinary. I’ve had some of the finest ham in the country, yet neither its aroma nor taste compares—could this be the legendary Iberian ham? Whoever treated you must be incredibly wealthy and only settle for the best.”

Jin Mingxi wore an expression of pure delight.

Her curiosity about the benefactor grew even stronger.

Generally, average millionaires wouldn’t splurge on such expensive, high-end ingredients.

Only the ultra-rich would indulge like this once in a while.

“Just eat it—no need for so much chatter!”

Zhou Can rolled his eyes. As a well-educated second-generation rich, he knew his way around fine cuisine.

After all, with Mr. Cui’s high-standard hospitality, who wouldn’t?

Friendships aren’t just about fate—they thrive on sincerity.

“When relationships are built on mutual benefit, they will eventually fade; only true connections rooted in genuine care last.”

Glancing at the time, Zhou Can realized it was getting late.

After his shower, he sat at his computer and started designing a new living room layout for Mr. Cui.

He had originally planned to sketch it on paper.

But he figured using the computer would be more efficient.

It also saved him a trip to deliver the plans in person.

…

The next day at the hospital, Zhou Can’s mind still buzzed with thoughts about the cause of Qiu Jie’s leg condition.

Yet he couldn’t find any leads.

He decided to consult Dr. Xu.

As one of the renowned three master surgeons in the Surgical Department and a former chief physician, Dr. Xu was celebrated not only for his surgical prowess but also for his diagnostic acumen—his experience far exceeded that of Zhou Can.

After reviewing the case, Dr. Xu shook his head.

“The patient’s blood potassium, intravenous pyelogram, and EKG are all normal. This suggests her issue lies in her nerves. But you know how it is—nerves aren’t like blood vessels. Unless there’s clear evidence of compression, atrophy, or necrosis, modern technology struggles to detect it. I’m not a specialist in neurology. If she were a close friend or relative, you might try consulting Director Yin from the Neurology Department.”

Every top doctor has their specialization.

Dr. Xu’s strengths lay in surgery and operative techniques, while nerve medicine—the field regarded as the toughest—was not his forte.

Perhaps his knowledge wasn’t much better than Zhou Can’s.

“Alright, I’ll see him after work! Thank you, Doctor!”

Zhou Can wasn’t disheartened; he embraced the challenge as a learning opportunity.

If they could pinpoint the issue, there might be hope; if not, then fate had its reasons.

…

Early in the Emergency Operating Room, Dr. Lu arrived promptly.

Unlike before, his face now carried a weight—a subtle sorrow he couldn’t quite hide.

He used to lean on his seniority to look down on talented newcomers like Zhou Can.

He even believed he was outstanding enough to be promoted to Attending Physician this year.

Until yesterday forced him to confront a harsh reality.

It turned out his surgical skills were shockingly poor.

The two newcomers he had dismissed had already surpassed him—especially Zhou Can, whose talent shone brilliantly.

He had witnessed Zhou Can perform numerous level-two surgeries on his own.

Now he had to figure out how to avoid being pushed aside.

Dr. Xu soon entered the operating room with an impassive expression.

“Xiao Zhou, Jin Mingxi, each of you take a nurse and assist with the surgery. Xiao Zhou, you attended yesterday’s meeting—your qualification for level-two surgeries is suspended. Until you obtain your medical license, you’ll only be able to assist with level-one procedures.”

Dr. Xu said this with a trace of resignation.

Seeing his protégé’s progress limited, it wasn’t Zhou Can who felt the deepest regret—it was Dr. Xu.

Before obtaining his license, he was merely a resident; after that, he would officially be a doctor.

Only then could he take on higher-level surgeries.

That would also help him gain more advanced experience.

“Teacher, it’s alright. I’ll master the level-one surgeries first, build a solid foundation, and once I have my license, I can handle level-two procedures even better.”

For Zhou Can, every surgery was a chance to gain experience.

Without level-two procedures, even advanced techniques hardly offered room for growth—the basics remained crucial.

He was as steadfast as stone.

The more his opponents tried to douse him with criticism, the more he burned with determination.

A year from now, if he could elevate all his basic skills to an exceptional level—perhaps even associate chief level—he would be exponentially stronger than he was now.

He would surely surprise Director Xie one day.

Dr. Xu nodded, “It’s best to think that way! A sapling growing in adversity becomes far stronger.” Dr. Xu worried that setbacks might bruise his protégé’s morale and dampen his enthusiasm at work.

It now appeared that his protégé was even tougher than he had imagined.

His mental resilience far outstripped that of ordinary people.

Unyielding, unbreakable, and relentlessly ambitious.

“Dr. Lu, you will be my assistant.”

“Alright!”

Dr. Lu accepted the role without any hint of complaint, evidently relieved by the change.

This was the transformation that came from facing reality.

If he failed to adjust his mindset, he would have no chance at all.

Qiao Yu and Li Shishi soon walked into the operating room.

To have a voice in the matter, one must prove one’s ability.

If Zhou Can weren’t such a brilliant surgeon, Dr. Xu and Director Lou wouldn’t have managed to bring Qiao Yu on board as his assistant.

For the past two weeks, Qiao Yu had been on the early shift.

Zhou Can felt incredibly lucky.

Operating every day with a beautiful and efficient nurse boosted his spirits and improved his performance.

“Don’t worry; one day she’ll be your personal instrument nurse. I believe that day isn’t far off—maybe even in less than three years.”

Qiao Yu walked briskly toward Zhou Can.

Flashing a charming smile, she greeted, “Hey, your old partner is back!”

“Hehe, welcome!”

Zhou Can smiled in return.

“I just hope my arrival always brightens your day.” She had managed to secure early shifts for two weeks and was clearly delighted.

Since learning that Zhou Can had helped her get the early shift, she had grown noticeably closer to him.

It was hard to put into words.

Her eyes, tone, and choice of words all spoke of a newfound intimacy.

“Haha, I’m looking forward to that day.”

In truth, Zhou Can was already overjoyed by her presence.

Jin Mingxi was exceptionally happy today too, her face beaming with smiles.

The surgery soon began.

Zhou Can and Jin Mingxi threw themselves into their operations.

He noted that after a period without independent surgical qualification, Jin Mingxi’s skills not only didn’t decline—they had noticeably improved.

Her diligent practice of the Rapid Surgical Technique was beginning to pay off.

During surgeries, Jin Mingxi exhibited a steadiness that was clearly superior to before.

Meanwhile, at Dr. Xu’s station,

Dr. Lu had set aside his pride and impatience, and in an unprecedented move, he sought advice from Dr. Xu on skin suturing techniques—a truly surprising development.

Zhou Can recalled that when he first arrived, Dr. Lu had carried himself with an air of unyielding arrogance, looking down on skin suturing as beneath him.

…

The day’s surgeries passed in the blink of an eye.

With a trusted assistant and the speed boost from mastering the Rapid Surgical Technique, Zhou Can performed twenty-four level-one surgeries today—a record-breaking feat.

Jin Mingxi carried out sixteen surgeries.

Though she did eight fewer than Zhou Can, her performance remained consistently steady.

The entire process was unhurried, progressing with deliberate precision.

It reminded one of the fierce competitions between Dr. Xu and Director Hu Kan back in the days.

Only now, the torch had been passed to the new talents—Zhou Can and Jin Mingxi.

Whether they ultimately prevail will only be seen in years to come.

After work, Zhou Can headed straight to the Neurology Department.

He intended to consult Director Yin about Qiu Jie’s test reports.

Director Yin’s expert consultation slots were fully booked, costing 800 yuan per appointment.

Though not as expensive as the top-tier 1200-yuan slots, it was still incredibly prestigious.

Director Yin is currently Tuyu Hospital’s most accomplished neurologist, celebrated for both his surgical skill and diagnostic acumen.

This highlights how domestic medicine is catching up with international standards, with many doctors focusing intensely on their specializations.

Achieving excellence in a specialized field secures one’s authority, income, and reputation.

The top expert appointments in the country run around 1200 yuan, following strict evaluation standards.

I’ve even heard of top consultations costing up to 2000 yuan.

At public hospitals like Tuyu, such fees haven’t been seen yet.

Over in the Neurology Department, inpatient beds were already full.

Zhou Can, having interned in Internal Medicine, knew where the Neurology offices were, but he wasn’t sure where Director Yin’s office was.

He decided to ask a nurse.

“Miss, excuse me—could you tell me where Director Yin’s office is?”

A freckled nurse looked up and shot him a quick glare.

“Are you a doctor at this hospital?”

Zhou Can felt a surge of annoyance.

He had interned in Internal Medicine for three months—even though some rotations lasted only half a month—yet this nurse had completely forgotten him.

Back when he used to greet them every day, they’d at least recognize him.

Now he realized that as a resident, he was barely worthy of a polite response.

It wasn’t really their fault—the number of residents is enormous.

Moreover, with such low status and meager pay, nurses barely took notice of them.

Perhaps once you become an attending, they’d make an effort to remember your face and name.

“I’m a resident from the Emergency Department,” he explained.

Having purposely worn his white coat, he flashed his ID badge.

Otherwise, the nurse would have resorted to the official scripted reply.

“Oh, you’re from the ED? What do you need from Director Yin?” The moment she realized he was from the Emergency Department, her tone cooled and a note of disdain crept into her eyes.

At Tuyu Hospital, the Emergency Department was little more than a transit point amid fierce competition from prestigious departments.

Its resources were extremely limited.

Its status was so low it could bring one to tears.

“I wanted to consult him about a medical issue,” Zhou Can replied.

The nurse rolled her eyes at his answer.

“I see… Perhaps you should consult with another doctor. I’m not very knowledgeable on this, and Director Yin is extremely busy; even if you find him, you might not get a chance to see him. For any medical questions, it’s best to consult your supervising physician.”

She declined politely.

In her mind, she probably already saw Zhou Can as a scatterbrained fool.

Director Yin isn’t exactly an easy man to reach.

If every resident, attending, and supervising doctor turned to him with questions, he wouldn’t be able to keep up.

At that moment, two young doctors hurried over from nearby.

They chatted as they walked along.

Occasionally, someone greeted one of them.

“Hello, Dr. Gao!”

“Dr. Gao, are you off to the inpatient department?”

“Dr. Gao, you work so hard!”

Even the normally cool nurses—and some of the young doctors—greeted him warmly, as if he were a celebrity.

The nurse who had spoken earlier waved cheerfully at them.

“Hi, Dr. Gao!”

Zhou Can was used to such treatment in the Emergency Department. He wondered who this Dr. Gao was to be so revered in Neurology.

“Dr. Zhou! Haha, it’s really you, isn’t it?”

The two exchanged glances, and Gao Jian’s face lit up with the warmth of an old friend.

“You know Dr. Zhou?”

Only then did the nurse realize that the ED resident she once dismissed was not so insignificant after all.