Chapter 361: Night Practice and New Insights

No one forced my cousin to hand out those three red envelopes. Even if he didn’t give any extra, none of us would’ve said a word.

But that’s how relationships work. Show generosity, let people benefit, and they’ll keep coming back. Be stingy and clueless, and next time, people will steer clear.

My cousin knows these basic truths well enough—that’s how he climbed to the position of Deputy Section Chief.

When money needs to be spent, don’t be cheap about it.

About fifty minutes later, Zhou Can arrived at Tuyu Hospital. The Emergency Department felt like his own turf—whether it was the doctors or nurses, most people here knew him and greeted him warmly.

“Zhou Can!”

His cousin, waiting anxiously outside the resuscitation room, was clearly moved to see him come all this way so late at night.

“How’s Uncle holding up?”

Zhou Can’s concern for his uncle’s safety was written all over his face.

“Not long after you called, the hospital brought my dad into the resuscitation room. But there aren’t any beds available in Cardiovascular Medicine for now—we’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

His cousin seemed pretty satisfied with that outcome.

If Zhou Can hadn’t stepped in today, who knows if his father would’ve gotten any treatment yet.

Whenever a patient is transferred in from another hospital, no matter where you are, every hospital’s extra cautious.

Especially with patients who are critically ill.

Take them in, and anything can happen.

You see it all the time—a patient shows up at Emergency or the Outpatient Department from another facility and can’t get admitted for ages. Hospitals rarely flat-out refuse patients, so they use more subtle ways.

First, the nurses talk to the family and patient, saying, ‘You’re really sick—our hospital isn’t the best at this. That other hospital down the road is more specialized. You might want to try there instead.’

Some families hear that and immediately pack up to leave.

Others, for all sorts of reasons, dig in and refuse to go.

So then the nurses just leave the patient sitting there, hoping the family gives up.

Another line you’ll hear: ‘We’re out of beds. Nowhere to put you.’ Transferred patients are often in bad shape—waiting a day is risky, and no one wants to gamble with that.

Spend a day sitting around, receive no care, and there’s still a chance you won’t get a bed.

No one dares take that risk—and so they end up leaving quietly.

When Zhou Can’s uncle was brought in, the Emergency Department doctors must have sized up the situation and thought, ‘This is trouble.’ No one wanted to admit him.

But once they realized the patient was Zhou Can’s uncle, and Director Lou had made the call, there was no refusing.

Some families think, ‘The health admin says hospitals can’t turn away patients!’ They don’t communicate with the hospital, just transfer the patient over. Only to find out painfully later how harsh the real world is.

His cousin works in this field, so he knows how things operate. That’s why he’s happy with how things turned out.

“Once shifts start tomorrow, I’ll talk to Cardiovascular Medicine, try to get Uncle a bed. But honestly, beds at Tuyu Hospital are always tight. No promises.”

Zhou Can didn’t dare guarantee anything.

If it was Cardiothoracic Surgery, he could just say the word and get a bed. But he barely knows anyone in Cardiovascular Medicine—he’ll probably need Director Tan’s help.

He never expected that this one thing would use up so many favors.

“I don’t know many people here at Tuyu, so I can only count on you,” his cousin said, voice tinged with bitterness.

Watching his father fall ill, he finally realized that, even as a Deputy Section Chief, he was powerless.

“We’re family—you don’t need to be polite! How much time off can you get? Uncle’s going to need someone by his side in the hospital, and it probably won’t be a short stay. Better get ready for that.”

Zhou Can gave his cousin a heads-up in advance.

Someone has to be with the patient around the clock—a doctor or nurse isn’t going to look after every little thing. Either family stays, or you hire a nursing aide.

That’s why it helps to have more than one child—when parents get old and sick, at least there’s help to share the load.

With only one kid, all the pressure lands on a single person—it’s a heavy burden.

“I’ll see how things go. If I can’t handle it, I’ll have Mom come take care of Dad for a while, or we’ll hire outside help.”

His cousin had already prepared for this.

Treating Uncle’s illness would rack up a big bill, and the family’s finances were only just okay. He’d save wherever he could—most likely, he’d call Aunt over to help watch Uncle.

……

By the time Zhou Can got back to the apartment, it was nearing ten o’clock.

When he opened the door, he was surprised to see Jin Mingxi practicing his scalpel technique—not just slicing carrots, but using the surgical blade to carve intricate patterns.

“Zhou Can, you’re finally back! Did everything get sorted out at home?”

Jin Mingxi beamed when he saw Zhou Can return.

“Yeah, it’s settled now.”

Zhou Can walked over, picked up one of the carved carrots, and took a look.

“Thinking of switching careers to become an artist?”

“Haha, you don’t get it! Dr. Hu Kan taught me this to boost my surgical skills. He said my blade work is just passable, but my precision and dexterity need work. Carving’s supposed to help me get nimbler.”

Ever since Dr. Hu Kan started mentoring him, Jin Mingxi was bursting with motivation inside and out.

That kind of enthusiasm and drive to improve is really something.

Zhou Can had felt it before, too.

Especially that year and change when he was preparing for the physician’s license—he’d felt like a wound-up clock always ticking with energy.

“You’re really making visible progress! Having a teacher who gets you makes all the difference. I can tell your scalpel skills are improving by leaps and bounds.”

After examining Jin Mingxi’s carved carrots, Zhou Can couldn’t help but feel impressed.

Great teachers do make great students—it’s true.

“Hey, we’re friends, aren’t we? Don’t overhype me!” Jin Mingxi protested, but his grin was bright as ever.

He must have felt just how fast he was advancing.

“Listen to yourself—if you don’t get carried away, who else can? I’d better practice, too. Five days at home, my hand skills are already slipping. If Dr. Hu Kan sees I’ve regressed, he’ll really give me an earful tomorrow.”

Watching Jin Mingxi’s rapid progress made Zhou Can itch to practice, too.

He hadn’t even really started learning the Steady Scalpel Technique—he needed to step it up.

Still, he’d only been at it a short while. He trusted that with more study and practice—and the experience system on his side—he’d get there quickly.

“Dr. Hu Kan couldn’t bring himself to scold you! He’s mentioned you more than once these last few days, always checking the clock for your usual arrival time.”

Jin Mingxi was honestly a bit jealous of Zhou Can.

Chief physicians all seemed to like him more than anyone else, pouring their efforts into his training. They were all human—why did some people get such special treatment?

But it made sense. Zhou Can had talent, worked hard, respected his teachers, had great character, and carried himself like a true healer. What teacher wouldn’t like a student like that?

“I can finally head over tomorrow. Nope—I’d better practice the Steady Scalpel Technique right now!”

Zhou Can understood that nothing would please Dr. Hu Kan more than seeing progress.

“Hey, Jin—mind if I borrow a bag of carrots?”

“No problem, take as many as you want!”

With six big bags of carrots stockpiled, lending Zhou Can one was easy.

He grabbed a bag and sat down at the old practice table. The moment he gripped the scalpel, something in him shifted. Man and blade became one.

Almost every top surgeon eventually reaches this state of oneness with their instrument.

When Dr. Hu Kan performed surgery, he held the scalpel like an ancient stone lodged in the river—unshakable. Dr. Xu, on the other hand, was all sharp edges, slicing fiercely and fast—like a tiger beetle darting across the operating table.

That transformation—the entire aura changing just from gripping a scalpel—is the true sign of oneness.

The doctor breathes life into the scalpel, and the blade responds to every thought, every intention.

It’s almost like the scalpel and surgeon share the same mind.

A mystical state, yet undeniably real.

Some doctors even have a name for it: the Living Scalpel.

They mean that, in a true surgeon’s hands, the blade is alive.

“Snick!”

Zhou Can sliced into a carrot—not aiming for speed, but for steadiness. Unlike Dr. Hu Kan and Jin Mingxi’s slow methodical cuts, his own pace was much faster.

That’s the approach Dr. Hu Kan had taught him—combining speed and stability.

Since Zhou Can was better with quick cuts than steady ones, his method was speed first, stability second—seeking steadiness within his rapid style.

One slice after another, the little scalpel came alive in his hands.

Sometimes he’d slice, sometimes he’d nudge or guide the blade…

Each cut brought new subtle insights—every stroke improved his understanding of what it meant to be steady.

Time slipped by, the apartment filled only with the sound of carrots being sliced.

Zhou Can lost himself completely in the practice, digging deeper, polishing his skills.

You could see his strokes getting steadier, and his face relaxing, as if things were getting easier the more he practiced.

A little after eleven, Jin Mingxi couldn’t keep going. He cleaned up and went to bed—at thirty-seven, he just didn’t have the stamina to match a young guy like Zhou Can.

His energy and endurance really couldn’t compare to someone younger.

That’s why most companies refuse to hire new employees past thirty-five. Because learning, stamina, and energy all drop as you get older—training those hires takes more effort, and by the time they’re ready, they’re already almost into middle age.

If it takes eight years to train someone new, they’ll be forty-three or older by graduation—a sure sign of aging.

In reality, hardly anyone goes from rookie to department head in just eight years. Most people need twelve or more.

So, companies would always rather take on twenty-something young guys.

Now the apartment was quiet except for Zhou Can, single-mindedly practicing the Steady Scalpel Technique.

His persistence and patience were something special.

That kind of dedication breeds results.

Before long, midnight slipped by and Zhou Can’s bag of carrots was almost empty.

If you looked closely, you’d notice his scalpel work had changed.

Each stroke was like the blade was carrying the weight of a mountain—fast, yet solid as rock.

[Congratulations! You have successfully used the Steady Scalpel Technique, and grasped its essence. You have acquired a special technique—Steady Scalpel Technique. This can be used in dissection, separation, and debridement procedures, ensuring stable cuts throughout surgery.]

Blade as steady as a mountain, seeking stability within speed—that was Zhou Can’s new insight.

With the Steady Scalpel Technique mastered, he could feel the scalpel grow heavier in his hands.

Before, he chased speed and agility. Now, with the weight of that invisible mountain, his blade was steadier, but he could tell his quickness had taken a hit.

That’s just how the laws of physics work—when two strengths collide, one inevitably gets sacrificed.

A true ‘best of both worlds’ is probably just an illusion.

Still, balancing speed and steadiness was real growth—a path neither Dr. Xu nor Dr. Hu Kan had ever walked. This was Zhou Can’s own way forward.

Dr. Hu Kan spent a lifetime being slow and steady, but risky choices in two late-career surgeries almost ruined his reputation.

Dr. Xu had it even worse—a critical mistake eight years ago led to a devastating outcome, and he still hadn’t recovered since.

Now, Zhou Can inherited the torch from both, and they both hoped he’d carve out a new path, free from their mistakes.

[Steady Scalpel Technique, Current Experience: Novice Level 1 / Focuses on balance and stability as primary strengths, greatly minimizing surgical accidents. Can be applied to any scalpel-based surgical procedure.]

Seeing another new technique take root left Zhou Can joyful and full of hope. It was like planting a seed and watching it sprout.

Tended properly, it might one day grow into a towering tree.

“I can finally get a good night’s sleep tonight. When I see Dr. Hu Kan tomorrow, I’ll actually have something worthwhile to show.”

He was sure Dr. Hu Kan would be delighted to see him master the Steady Scalpel Technique so quickly.

……

The next morning, after getting up, Zhou Can found a message on his phone from Su Qianqian.

Just two words: “Miss you!”

Since meeting his family, that sweet girl had finally opened up. Now she treated Zhou Can as her partner for life.

“I’ll come over to be with you tonight!”

He realized that his girlfriend was like a busy little bee, sending the message at 5:41 a.m.—meaning she was up at dawn.

Being a celebrity might seem glamorous, but it’s actually exhausting.

This time, Su Qianqian had asked the company for five days off to join Zhou Can back home. Sure, she wanted to meet his parents, but she was also a key part of his plan to deal with capital tycoon Hu Haikun.

They were intentionally putting on a show, making it look like Su Qianqian really agreed to join Hu Haikun.

She was a major star at Jin Yu Interactive—five days away from work was a massive blow for the company. It also answered Hu Haikun’s demands and put pressure on shareholder Mr. Li.

Just yesterday, Mr. Li had already reached out to Hu Haikun for negotiations, which boiled down to ‘compromise.’

They’d agreed to some of Hu Haikun’s terms—in other words, Zhou Can was left out in the cold.

Su Qianqian hadn’t replied since. She was probably busy working.

Zhou Can washed up quickly. Morning runs and workouts were part of his daily routine, even when visiting home.

This country might have good law and order, but as a man, you need a strong body.

It makes you more attractive, and when trouble comes, you can handle it with confidence.

Especially in an emergency—you’re always ready to protect yourself.

Never underestimate that skill. Being able to defend yourself is like legally carrying a ‘gun’ that keeps you safe from danger.

One strong person once said, ‘I keep a low profile so I can rise up when necessary.’

Why can billionaires wear simple clothes, ride bikes through the city, and still walk tall? Because they have real strength—no worries about food or money, able to get almost anything they want.

Ordinary people work themselves to the bone to feed the family—miss a day, and everyone goes hungry.

In that situation, wearing plain clothes and riding a bike, your mindset is completely different from a billionaire’s.

They’re just focused on finding work and feeding the family that day.

But the billionaire treats life like a game. If they like something, they buy it—always enjoying, always reflecting on life.

That’s why Zhou Can learned boxing and focused on building his body from a young age. It was the right call.

After running, he showered and changed, racing off to the hospital.

He wondered how his uncle was doing by now.