Chapter 334: An Unyielding Heart: Entrusted with a Child’s Life

“Let me be clear—this child’s congenital heart condition absolutely needs surgery, and we’re talking about a procedure that’s complicated and carries high risks. If you’re willing, we’ll arrange for hospital admission right away. The details of the operation will be decided only after a thorough risk assessment and team discussion.”

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After reviewing the scans, Dr. Zhuang immediately understood this congenital heart surgery wouldn’t be easy.

He mentioned that it would take input from several specialists. If he was right, they’d probably need to invite doctors from Cardiothoracic Surgery for a joint consultation.

“We’re willing! Absolutely—we agree!”

The family, worried for their child, didn’t dare argue with the doctors anymore.

Even the child’s mother quieted down.

“Dr. Zhou, you admitted this patient, so I’ll have to ask you to see this through from start to finish. You’ll coordinate the surgery plan, interdepartmental teamwork and consultations. All of it falls to you.”

Right after Dr. Zhuang settled things with the family, he left Zhou Can stunned.

“Th-That’s not really appropriate! I’m just a trainee—shouldn’t a major operation like this fall to a chief physician like you?” Zhou Can would have cursed if not for Dr. Zhuang’s authority.

Director Shang from Gastroenterology already pushed work onto him nonstop.

Every kind of task just landed right on his shoulders.

Now here’s Dr. Zhuang handing off a complex congenital heart case—this was a Level IV major surgery. Terrifying.

Inside, Zhou Can felt like a caged tiger. Yet if they could get Dr. Hu Kan from Cardiothoracic Surgery to supervise, maybe he could actually take on this challenge.

“I’ll support you fully! You young folks have energy to spare, this is just the time to storm ahead and take risks. It’s settled.”

In front of the patient’s family, Dr. Zhuang shamelessly handed all responsibility to Zhou Can.

A higher title really trumps all.

As a chief physician with Pediatric Director Tang Fei’s backing, Dr. Zhuang left Zhou Can feeling completely helpless.

At this point, Zhou Can could only look pleadingly at the family.

He winked at the child’s parents and grandparents, hoping they’d step in and speak up.

He silently begged for their support.

Finally, someone caught Zhou Can’s signal.

The child’s grandmother piped up, voice sharp, “Dr. Zhuang, I do run my mouth sometimes—please don’t take offense!”

“Big Sis, say whatever’s on your mind!” Dr. Zhuang was about ten years younger than her, so calling her ‘Big Sis’ fit.

“Dr. Zhou is excellent, no doubt about it, but he really is a bit young, so his experience is limited. My grandson’s heart condition is very serious—even the experts at the Provincial Children’s Hospital said surgery would be a huge gamble. For a higher chance of success, it’d be safer if you personally took charge.”

The elderly woman was far more tactful than the younger family members.

She put it very delicately.

Dr. Zhuang responded with a serious explanation, “I never said I wouldn’t handle this, just that Dr. Zhou will lead the way. That also matches our hospital’s first-contact policy. Besides, Dr. Zhou may look young, but don’t assume he’s any less experienced than I am. As the saying goes, it’s not age but attitude that matters. Age isn’t everything. Especially in medicine, skills evolve fast, and young doctors often have an edge in many ways.”

“Another thing—a surgery like this takes more stamina than you’d believe. Let me share a secret: big operations like this are never handled by one person. It takes a whole surgical team, so you really don’t need to worry.”

With Dr. Zhuang’s explanation, the family no longer had any objections.

Zhou Can was officially out of options.

This young patient was now entirely his responsibility.

First, he’d need to secure a hospital bed for the boy. Transferring to Cardiothoracic Surgery was out—the Pediatrics Department would never agree.

After all, a congenital heart operation brings in considerable profit.

Even the simplest cases cost over 10,000 RMB. For a case this severe and complex, surgery and treatment could go well over 120,000.

Exact costs couldn’t be estimated yet—they’d have to wait until the surgery plan was finalized.

But as steep as those costs sounded, most families would sell their homes and cars if it meant saving their child.

“Dr. Zhuang, why not just admit the child into your Neonatology Department? No other department would want to accept him!”

Zhou Can had good reason for suggesting this.

Dr. Zhuang wanted him to oversee the treatment? Fine. But putting the child in Dr. Zhuang’s Neonatology ward meant Dr. Zhuang couldn’t just wash his hands of the matter.

“Absolutely!”

Dr. Zhuang and Zhou Can exchanged a look, both quick to agree.

“You have to promise—minimum one daily ward round.”

He added that condition.

“No problem!”

Zhou Can answered just as readily.

Both men were sharp—they understood each other right away.

Deal settled, Zhou Can started the hospital admission. Bed arrangements became Dr. Zhuang’s problem. The child’s spot in Neonatology wasn’t simply given away.

And with daily rounds, Dr. Zhuang would have to keep a close eye too.

…

Back in Gastroenterology, it was almost noon—just two minutes till twelve.

Dr. Shang had asked Zhou Can to focus more on Gastroenterology, yet he’d spent over an hour in Pediatrics. If Dr. Shang found out, he’d definitely nag.

Zhou Can decided to grab lunch in the cafeteria before returning to work.

Not quite one o’clock when Dr. Shang appeared.

He saw Zhou Can busy with patient files and beamed.

“Not bad, Zhou! Once you wrap up this case, get over to Outpatient to consult with me. It’ll be one soon, so I’ll head over first with the others.”

Zhou Can felt secretly relieved—he’d dodged a bullet.

Still, he’d have to work out a surgical plan for that congenital heart case.

He resolved to visit Dr. Hu Kan in Cardiothoracic Surgery after work for help.

…

The whole afternoon flew by in consults—following Dr. Shang meant learning tons of practical knowledge.

Strict as Dr. Shang could be, he always taught patiently, sharing his experience in ways everyone could understand. His skill level was top notch and his clinical insights were priceless for Zhou Can.

When his shift ended, Zhou Can went straight to Cardiothoracic Surgery.

Same building, same bustle, yet he could feel things had changed.

He couldn’t quite explain how, but the department didn’t feel the same as he remembered.

He’d been away from Cardiothoracic Surgery for over a year, after all.

“Dr. Zhou! Long time no see!”

A passing doctor greeted him warmly.

“Heh, yeah, it’s been a while. Can’t help it—work’s nonstop every day. Has Dr. Hu Kan left yet? I’m here for his expertise on a medical issue.”

Zhou Can asked.

“Dr. Hu’s health has really declined—he rarely operates himself anymore. But if he’s well enough, he still comes in every day. He’s either in clinic or supervising surgery in the OR. You know, whenever we mess up, as soon as he scolds us, he brings up your name.”

Hearing about Dr. Hu Kan’s failing health made Zhou Can uneasy.

Thing is, Dr. Hu isn’t even that old—sixty’s hardly elderly with people living to 78 these days. Lots of men at sixty are still in great shape.

Doctors know health better than anyone, but sometimes take the worst care of themselves.

Especially surgeons—marathon procedures stretching seven or even fifteen hours. By the end, they’ve completely missed meal times.

And as for water, in the OR, no matter how thirsty they get, they simply can’t drink.

Sleep patterns, too, are a mess. Even at 3 a.m., no matter how deeply asleep, one ring from a phone and they’re instantly alert, afraid something’s happened to a patient.

Running to the hospital for emergency rescues in the dead of night isn’t rare at all.

Someone once did the math: doctors average a lifespan of just 54 years—a terrifying statistic.

If that ever got out, most teens would probably give up on med school.

“And why does he mention me?”

Zhou Can didn’t get how he wound up in other people’s lectures.

“He’s praising your surgical talent and how quickly you’ve advanced! Dr. Hu always says mentoring you was a real joy. Oh, and lucky for you, he’s still in his office—though after today’s case reviews, he’ll head out soon. Better hurry!”

“Got it, thanks! See you!”

Zhou Can hurried toward the doctors’ office.

The door was slightly ajar, and he could hear voices discussing patient cases inside.

In departments where real work gets done, case reviews are all about practical discussion, not formal reports or speeches.

Sometimes those debates get so heated, they’re almost shouting matches.

Knock, knock, knock!

Zhou Can knocked politely.

He’d known most of Cardiothoracic’s staff for years, but good manners were a must.

“Come in!”

An older yet steady voice responded.

It was unmistakably Dr. Hu Kan.

Pushing open the door, Zhou Can was greeted by delighted faces—including Director Xueyan.

“Wow, Dr. Zhou, long time no see!”

“Hello Dr. Hu, Director Xue, Director Le…”

Zhou Can greeted all his old colleagues with a warm smile.

In private, he called Director Xueyan ‘Sister Yan’—their friendship was close. She’d even designed his medical studies plan herself.

Whenever he hit tricky problems, he went straight to her for advice.

“Haven’t seen this kid Zhou for a while. I bet he’s here to ask for help, no guessing needed.” Dr. Hu looked fatigued, but his spirit was intact.

Seeing Zhou Can around brought such good energy, Dr. Hu couldn’t help but smile.

“You always see right through me, Dr. Hu. I spent yesterday as a full-fledged Pediatrics outpatient, and saw a boy with congenital heart disease—not even four yet. He’s in bad shape: skin’s all purple, even passed out from lack of oxygen. His family’s on board for surgery, but honestly, I have no idea what I’m doing. Pediatrics basically forced me to take the lead, so now I’m here, hoping all of you can coach me through this.”

Zhou Can could genuinely feel how warmly the old Cardiothoracic crowd still treated him.

The looks they gave him were nothing but kind.

It felt amazing, knowing those bonds held strong.

“You brat—you act like you’ve been thrown to the wolves and still whine about it! Any young doctor would kill for your chance to be “forced” into surgery. Director Tang Fei in Pediatrics really knows how to push you. Even the simplest heart surgery is major, and the risks are huge. If anything goes wrong, you as the trainee won’t be the one answering for it. Count your blessings, kid.”

Dr. Hu grinned, scolding him with a laugh.

“Of course I’m grateful! I’m just scared I’ll mess up and disappoint Dr. Tang Fei and everyone. Luckily, I’ve got the Cardiothoracic team backing me, so I feel a lot less anxious.”

Zhou Can laughed and replied.

He wasn’t truly oblivious or ungrateful.

Even if Dr. Zhuang came off lazy, letting him run the show, deep down Zhou Can knew: in the end, as a trainee, none of the real blame would fall on him if things went south.

Both Dr. Zhuang and Dr. Tang Fei would bear most of the responsibility for this high-stakes surgery.

Theirs was a much heavier burden than Zhou Can’s.

“You brought the files, right? Since everyone’s here, let’s gather round and discuss.” Dr. Hu eyed the folder in Zhou Can’s hands.

“They’re right here! But I’ll let you finish your own business first—I’m in no rush.”

No way was Zhou Can going to interrupt.

“We just finished. Go on, Dr. Zhou, bring them over!” Director Le chimed in.

“Quit dawdling and get to it!”

Dr. Hu was already urging him along.

“Then I’ll get right to it!”

Zhou Can handed over the patient’s documents to Dr. Hu Kan first.

They then made their way through the hands of several senior physicians.

Attending and resident doctors—well aware of hierarchy—gathered behind, taking in everything.

There was no time to waste.

If you wanted to learn, you had to be proactive.

“We’ve all run through the reports. Hold off on opinions—let’s see what Dr. Zhou’s got!”

Dr. Hu’s eyes were sharp as they landed on Zhou Can.

“Tell us your operative approach and plan.”

Zhou Can didn’t hold back, describing his surgical strategy in detail.

“First, I plan to establish extracorporeal circulation, then perform a total cavopulmonary connection… Once phase one is completed, about twenty-four hours later, we’ll go back in, remove the atrial tunnel patch, preserve the superior vena cava-right pulmonary artery anastomosis and close the right atrial dome…”

As Zhou Can finished, the whole office fell silent—you could hear a pin drop.

Director Le looked at him with such exaggerated admiration, it was almost comical.

Director Xueyan responded with a knowing smile. The sophistication of Zhou Can’s plan showed he hadn’t been slacking off—she knew her study program was paying off.

Two highly skilled attending physicians processed what Zhou Can had said, then turned to him in astonishment.

“That’s impressive. Maybe not a perfect plan, but it tests every aspect of surgical skill, fundamentals and even some advanced theory. What’s really scary is, knowing the knowledge isn’t enough—you have to put it all together in practice.”

Absolutely brilliant.”