Chapter 408: After Hours: An Unyielding Heart

After work, Zhou Can couldn’t stop worrying about Su Qianqian.

Now that he was officially a doctor, the expectations for him had gotten much stricter. Taking time off was turning into a luxury he could barely afford.

Unless it was a real emergency, anything personal he needed to handle would have to wait until after his shift.

The department had looked out for him over the past month.

He hadn’t been assigned a single night shift.

It made sense—they knew he was constantly doing emergency surgeries and was the department’s backbone. Night shifts drained doctors, and he still had surgeries for patients the next day.

Doubling up with night shifts and day shifts, then doing surgery, was a recipe for disaster.

One mistake could mean a huge loss for the department.

They weren’t short on people for the night shifts. Not having Zhou Can cover nights was more likely to raise complaints from the rest of the doctors than cause any real trouble.

There’d definitely be some who thought it wasn’t fair.

Leaving the Emergency Department, he headed straight for the underground parking garage.

Fame draws trouble—just like a fattened pig invites the butcher.

He was now a key player in Emergency, did a day a week at Pediatrics, and had gotten attention at the Cardiothoracic Surgery director selection meeting. When it came to personal matters, he had to stay low-key.

There were so many people at the hospital. For all he knew, even a random cleaning lady might be related to one of the higher-ups.

If someone eavesdropped on his call, it could spell trouble for Zhou Can.

Once inside his Mercedes, he finally dialed Dr. Chen Guoli’s number.

Time to shamelessly ask Master Chen for a private consultation again.

“Master Chen, hello. I’m Zhou, the guy who brought his girlfriend to see you at your dorm one night. Do you remember me?”

“You mean the boyfriend of the girl with kidney failure?”

“Yes, that’s us! We’ve followed your instructions for three courses and then stopped the medicine for a month. She went for a follow-up yesterday, and it looks like the illness has come back. Would it be possible to see you again? We really need your help.”

Zhou Can’s tone was especially respectful and polite.

When you need someone’s help, you have to humble yourself.

“Of course, of course!”

Chen Guoli agreed right away.

“I’m super busy at the hospital during the day so I can’t get time off, and we can’t afford to wait with this illness. Would it be alright if we came to your dorm tonight instead?”

“That’s fine! Come by, I’ll be at my work dorm!”

“Thank you so much! See you soon!”

After getting confirmation from Dr. Chen, Zhou Can quickly called Su Qianqian.

He asked Wei Fang to drive Su Qianqian straight to Dr. Chen’s dorm.

Meanwhile, he hopped in his car and headed over himself.

That way they would save as much time as possible.

……

The place wasn’t far from Tuyu Hospital and about twenty minutes later, Zhou Can pulled up outside the destination.

He parked just outside the Traditional Chinese Medicine Research Institute and waited quietly for Su Qianqian to arrive.

Last time, he’d brought a gift for Dr. Chen but was turned down.

He wasn’t going to put himself through that again.

It was better to arrive empty-handed.

Some doctors had integrity and didn’t care about material gifts. Respecting their values was the best way to get along with them.

Not sure when Su Qianqian would get there, Zhou Can idly scrolled through his phone.

He had a few work group chats, too.

He usually ignored most of them—his current department was Emergency after all.

But right now the Cardiothoracic Surgery group was buzzing, and curiosity got the better of him.

“Third Hospital is amazing. Look at these photos my friend took—the heart surgery outpatient line is insane!”

Attached beneath the message were a few photos.

The outpatient hall had a massive snaking line—it must’ve been at least two hundred people. The sight was incredible.

Foreign specialists really pulled a crowd.

Zhou Can couldn’t help but marvel.

Today was the first day the Japanese specialist recruited by Third Hospital was holding an open surgery clinic. The turnout was ridiculous.

It made you wonder if there were honestly that many patients in the city urgently needing heart surgery.

Besides, most heart surgery patients are emergency or critical cases. Lining up like this—what if someone got delayed and missed the critical rescue window?

Of course, it’s possible Third Hospital used some marketing tricks and had hired people to act as patients to create hype.

That sort of thing isn’t just a trick for bubble tea shops.

Plenty of private hospitals mastered it long ago.

And their methods are even more sophisticated.

“Our department only handled 117 heart surgery patients in the entire outpatient and emergency today. The business is seriously shrinking. Now Third Hospital is clearly running circles around us.”

The speaker was a senior attending from Cardiothoracic Surgery.

This person was also Associate Director He’s student.

Normally, getting the day’s outpatient and emergency stats wasn’t so easy.

Associate Director He was clearly encouraging his people to spread a sense of crisis—hardly a noble tactic.

And he wasn’t alone in fanning the flames in the group chat.

This was still the work chat, after all—when Dr. Hu Kan was alive, everyone spoke cautiously.

Most of the chatter used to be about meetings, service changes, or consultation rosters.

Now the chat was practically in chaos. Director Xueyan must’ve been under tremendous stress.

Her seat as director was clearly not as secure as people imagined.

Women already had a tough time in the workplace. After taking over, she’d refused to make an example of anyone. Associate Director He, with his seniority and network, probably hadn’t made things easy for her.

He’d never openly oppose her, but making trouble was well within his reach.

Like now—letting others stir things up, endlessly comparing the busyness of Third Hospital’s and Tuyu’s cardiothoracic clinics.

All this was bad news for Director Xueyan.

People would just blame her as the new director and never consider the real, objective reasons.

Director Xueyan kept silent, not saying a word in the group.

To them, Zhou Can was still somewhat of an outsider. Even if he wanted to help her steady things, there wasn’t much he could do.

Third Hospital’s move—recruiting a famous Japanese heart specialist and importing a whole set of new equipment—had worked wonders. Especially since it came right after Dr. Hu Kan’s death. Third Hospital’s heart surgery department had become the talk of the town overnight.

And this was only opening day—the first beats of war drums.

He had no doubt that even bigger news would follow, like dramatic stories of patients who had tried all the hospitals with no luck, and were miraculously saved by the Japanese team using cutting-edge surgical skills and the world’s best medical gear.

You could bet on this kind of marketing.

Soon, Third Hospital’s heart surgery department would be famous not just in the province but all across the country.

There was no denying their strategy was brilliant.

This move was inspired.

Zhou Can exited the mess that was the cardiothoracic work group chat, then opened a private chat with Director Xueyan, hesitating over whether to send a voice call.

After thinking it over, he gave up.

She was probably already overwhelmed, her stress beyond imagination.

Calling her wouldn’t help and would only mess with her head more.

“If only this storm could come three to five years later.”

Zhou Can sighed to himself.

His surgical skills were maybe at a strong deputy director level, maybe even a little below that.

Some of his abilities were still only at attending level, some had just gotten to junior deputy director.

Overall, he was a junior deputy director at best.

“Yanjie, just keep things stable. Don’t try to make miracles—just avoid mistakes. I truly believe, as your skills and those of the other chiefs improve, you’ll get back everything you’ve lost.”

He tapped out this message, hesitated, and then hit send.

The wisest move for the department now was to keep its head down like an old turtle. Weather the storm and hold the line.

A moment later, Director Xueyan replied with a teary-eyed emoji.

He let out another sigh.

He wasn’t actually involved, so his feelings were nothing compared to what she was going through.

He started to send her a virtual hug emoji, but thought better of it.

After all, they weren’t really siblings, even if they used ‘sister-brother’ terms.

Still, it wasn’t the same as having real family ties.

Finally, he swapped the hug for a “stay strong” emoji.

“I’ll always have your back. Just say the word.”

He added one more message.

“Thank you!”

She sent another emoji in reply.

It was clear she was feeling down in the dumps.

Outside, someone knocked on the car window.

Zhou Can turned and saw Su Qianqian and Wei Fang had arrived.

“Hop in. Let’s go inside.”

“Boss, I’ll just wait in the car for you guys,” Wei Fang checked with Zhou Can.

“Alright!”

Zhou Can thoughtfully opened the front passenger door for Su Qianqian.

The research institute had a security guard, an older man around sixty, the same one from last time.

Clearly, their finances were strained.

“Hello, sir. I’m here to see Dr. Chen Guoli—we already made arrangements by phone,” Zhou Can said, rolling down his window for the gatekeeper.

“Go on in,”

The guard didn’t ask much, just buzzed them through.

Having been here once, Zhou Can drove straight to the staff dorms.

Nowadays, offices and dorms were usually built separately, only in old buildings were they put together.

Looking at these rundown buildings, Zhou Can could feel the state of traditional Chinese medicine just by their appearance.

He knocked on the door to Dr. Chen’s apartment.

“Master Chen, I’m sorry to trouble you again,” Zhou Can apologized as they met.

He noticed Dr. Chen looked even thinner and his hair whiter and a bit more curled since last time.

“Helping patients brings me the most joy, so please don’t ever feel you’re bothering me. Come in and have a seat!”

Dr. Chen invited them inside.

Dr. Chen’s wife still brewed tea for the guests, greeting them warmly.

“Miss, put your hand on the wrist pillow and let me feel your pulse.”

Dr. Chen carefully examined Su Qianqian, then closed his eyes in deep thought.

That look made Zhou Can’s heart sink.

There’s a saying in medicine—you don’t worry about a Western doctor who smiles. It’s the Chinese doctor with a heavy brow who gets you scared.

If a Chinese doctor lowers his eyes or grows silent, the case is likely troublesome or serious.

“Her condition isn’t too bad. There’s still an issue in the left kidney but the right kidney has basically recovered. You stopped her medication for a month, right?”

“Yeah, it’s been a month and a day since we stopped. She had her follow-up yesterday,” Su Qianqian replied.

“Young man, I can tell you’re a responsible man and neither of you are ordinary. Money shouldn’t be a problem. Did you manage to find either of the two main medicines yet?”

Dr. Chen’s memory was sharp—he still remembered what happened more than half a year ago.

Chinese medicine doctors really knew how to care for the body, it seemed.

“We tried, but no luck so far. Both herbs are incredibly hard to find. I even asked Rui Enterprises. They haven’t cracked artificial cultivation of the purple-backed mayapple either. No telling how long until we can find them.”

Zhou Can felt bitter just talking about it.

It turns out money can’t solve everything.

“That’s to be expected. For now, I’ll give her a kidney-nourishing treatment to keep her kidneys stable. It won’t cure her, but at least the condition won’t get worse and you’ll have more time to find those main medicines.”

Dr. Chen had a new treatment ready.

Chinese medicine is known for ‘nourishing’ or ‘tonifying’ therapies.

Only Chinese medicine can really halt disease progression like this.

Western medicine has immune therapies, but it’s not nearly as developed as Chinese medicine’s thousand-year wisdom when it comes to nourishing the body.

“If you can, use a ginseng root that’s over a hundred years old once a year. Divide it into several doses—don’t overdo it. She needs nourishment, not strong tonics right now,” Dr. Chen cautioned after writing the prescription.

“Young man, I can see you’re a good man. This prescription was handed down from my master—it can cure kidney failure at the root. It’s all here—how to prepare, how long to use it. If you manage to find those herbs and I’m no longer around, you can still use this to help her.”

Dr. Chen’s words brought tears to Zhou Can’s eyes.

He glanced up at the ceiling—old and spotted—then rubbed his eyes.

“Heh, this building’s so old, looks like sand’s coming down,” he joked.

“Want to wash your face?” Dr. Chen asked, concerned.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you for entrusting me with your ancestral prescription and for your kindness. I’ll never forget this generosity and the heart of a true healer.”

Zhou Can thanked him sincerely.

“Cherishing it isn’t enough. You have to pass it on—that’s the best repayment you could give me,” Dr. Chen said with a meaningful look.

“Absolutely!”

Zhou Can nodded seriously.

He understood Dr. Chen meant he should inherit not just the remedy, but also the healer’s compassion.

“When I came in, the research institute looked so rundown and it left me feeling bad. You never accept gifts, and you always charge just six yuan per visit. That makes both Qianqian and me feel guilty. I’d like to donate a million yuan to your institute, for renovation or research—would that be alright?”

There was a reason Zhou Can asked this way.

A lot of places look old, but corruption inside can be rampant.

Losing a million didn’t mean much to Zhou Can—he made far more than that every month.

But if the money just vanished into corrupt officials’ pockets, he was having none of it.

“That’s a fine idea. The building may be old, but it’s still ten times better than the mud houses we had when we were young. Let’s put the million towards Chinese medicine research, then. I promise—not a cent will be wasted. Your kindness won’t go unappreciated.”

Dr. Chen was savvy—he got exactly what Zhou Can meant.

“Just give me an account number and I’ll transfer it tomorrow,”

For the first time, Zhou Can felt truly proud to contribute, even in a small way, to the cause of Chinese medicine.