Chapter 90: Surgical Shenanigans and Unforeseen Consequences

This incident infuriated Director Xie; it likely wasn’t just about fewer surgical chances for training newcomers.

Even the smallest mosquito is still meat.

Even Level 1 and 2 surgeries can generate significant revenue for the department.

A department’s weight is measured by factors such as academic prowess, top talent, revenue, rankings in specialized fields, and diagnostic capabilities.

Of all these, revenue is the most critical.

No matter the department, if your revenue generation is stellar, you stand tall and speak with authority.

“Director Lou, is that so?”

Deputy Director Ye directed his gaze toward Director Lou, seated in the back row.

Zhou Can turned to look and found both Dr. Xu and Director Lou remarkably composed.

Instantly, he felt relieved.

It appeared the two had long been prepared, not caught off guard by Director Xie.

“Yes, it is,”

Director Lou admitted openly.

“Regarding this matter, our Emergency Department acted solely out of goodwill.”

Just look at them—department heads with a way with words.

Even though they essentially snatched patients from the Surgical Department, they boldly explained to Director Xie and Deputy Director Ye that it was a benevolent act.

It was like stealing the meat from someone’s bowl and, after cleaning it out, saying, ‘I did this because too much meat is bad for your health.’

“Nonsense! Then explain how this was done out of goodwill!”

Director Xie’s face turned bright red with anger.

After all, he came from the Surgical Department and had always been known for his rough temperament.

Among all the senior directors, his temper was by far the worst.

Perhaps because the Surgical Department held high status, he prided himself on his stature, letting his voice run wild.

“I heard that many in our Emergency Department mentioned how numerous surgeons in the Surgical Department have been complaining about patients being funneled to them. I understand their plight—surgeons are busy! Sometimes if you call for an emergency procedure, arriving in under half an hour is considered fast; sometimes it takes an hour or longer.”

Director Lou calmly stated the facts at his own pace.

He seized the chance to call out some of the Surgical Department’s high-and-mighty airs.

Many surgical doctors in the room felt their faces heat up with embarrassment.

“Previously, our Emergency Department Operating Room was so understaffed that we couldn’t help the Surgical Department. Until just over two weeks ago, when Deputy Director Ye kindly allocated two general training doctor slots to us, Dr. Xu and I agreed that we owed it to the Surgical Department to shoulder some of their workload.”

“The two new trainees have proven themselves by handling a large share of the basic work in the operating room.”

Director Lou’s eloquence was impressive.

He looked squarely at Director Xie and said, “How many surgeries can two trainees possibly take away from your Surgical Department? Your earlier remarks were rather petulant and misrepresented our Emergency Department’s true intentions.”

Zhou Can silently gave a thumbs up.

Jiang Guoran, as ever, showed that the veteran truly has the edge.

Director Lou and Dr. Xu’s well-prepared statements completely turned Director Xie’s argument on its head.

Moreover, every point they made was grounded in solid logic.

“You’re twisting logic and spouting nonsense!”

While Director Xie could wield a scalpel with finesse and wasn’t above cunning maneuvers for credit, engaging in a direct debate was not his strong suit.

Within just a few exchanges, Director Lou had left him utterly flustered.

“I can’t win this argument. Clearly, the Emergency Department isn’t in the business of snatching surgical patients from the Surgical Department.”

Unable to argue further, he simply resorted to force.

With the Surgical Department’s status far superior to that of the Emergency Department, he tried to bully his way through.

“Since you say so, Director Xie, we at the Emergency Department don’t mind taking fewer surgical cases. We even enjoy a lighter load,” Director Lou said nonchalantly with a shrug.

Deputy Director Ye, who had remained quiet until now, jumped in as the two department heads reached a consensus.

“Old Lou, I see that your Emergency Department acted out of genuine goodwill—albeit without giving old Xie a heads-up, which led to this misunderstanding. Taking on a reasonable number of cases to ease the burden on others is commendable. But if you’re just trying to slack off, that won’t do!”

Deputy Director Ye’s tone backed the Emergency Department’s proactive stance.

At the same time, he had to be mindful of Director Xie’s feelings.

“Director Xie, the entire Emergency Department barely has eight surgeons. How many surgeries can two trainees take away from your department? Let’s just overlook this in the future.”

With Deputy Director Ye’s remarks putting the issue to rest, there was nothing more for Director Xie to say.

He could only nod tearfully in agreement.

Originally, he had come to confront the Emergency Department with clear evidence against them.

But thanks to Director Lou’s thorough preparation, although he was in the wrong, he ended up appearing justified.

The wronged party ended up looking petty in everyone’s eyes, and even Deputy Director Ye sided with the Emergency Department.

Inside, he felt utterly aggrieved!

“Meeting adjourned!”

After Deputy Director Ye declared the meeting over, he was the first to leave the room.

Director Lou stood up, smiling as he greeted Director Tan and the others.

It’s true that regular socializing helps when you need to speak up later.

Zhou Can recalled how Director Tan and Director Yin had stood up for him recently, and he walked over to them.

“Director Tan, Director Yin, thank you for backing me up last time. I will always be grateful.”

They risked offending a deputy director to help him out.

Zhou Can knew he had to show his gratitude.

Even if he couldn’t repay them now, a sincere thank-you was the very least he could do.

That was a basic code of honor.

If someone helps you in a major way and you show no gratitude, it would hurt those who helped you.

And next time, no one would be willing to lend a hand.

“It’s nothing, really.”

Director Tan waved off his thanks.

“I just couldn’t stand to see a talented kid waste his potential!”

Director Yin added matter-of-factly.

Both of them helped without expecting anything in return.

They admired Zhou Can not only for his character but also for his medical talent; after all, most people are inherently good and just.

Within their means, they were happy to help him out.

“Xiao Zhou, it’s been a while since that incident. You’re not still affected by it, are you?” Director Tan asked with concern.

“I’m fine. I’ve long moved past it,” Zhou Can replied.

His naturally optimistic nature shone through.

Though he initially claimed there was no resentment, that wasn’t entirely true.

Still, Deputy Director Bai had apologized and even offered compensation. Dr. Shangguan had reformed too, and now he was a good friend.

By now, Zhou Can had truly let go of his grudges.

“As long as you move on, it’s all good! Don’t hold a grudge. One day, when you’re in charge of the entire hospital’s fate, you might have to make a similar decision. Sacrificing a bit for a trainee means little loss to the hospital, but losing a department leader is disastrous. It’s like choosing between a 50-pound block of iron and one of gold—if you can only take one, you’d choose the gold.”

Director Tan patiently broke down the logic, though he wasn’t sure if Zhou Can had fully let it go.

“I understand,”

Zhou Can nodded again.

Everyone can grasp the grand theory, but few can accept unfairness when it hits close to home.

Gao Jian soon came over to greet him.

“Zhou Can, long time no see!”

“It’s been over half a month. You look confident—your skills must have improved a lot, right?”

Zhou Can smiled in reply.

“Sigh! Don’t even mention it.”

Gao Jian sighed deeply.

“What’s the matter?”

Zhou Can wasn’t sure if Gao Jian was just playing the victim.

“My traditional surgical skills are good enough, and I do have talent. But when it comes to interventional procedures, my hands are as clumsy as pig trotters.”

Gao Jian looked at his hands in disdain.

“Haha, that’s a blunt comparison! Interventional procedures are far more complex. You’ve only practiced for a couple of weeks. Do you really expect to reach an attending’s level? Take your time and be patient.”

Zhou Can chuckled in an effort to console him.

Still, Dr. Xu once mentioned that being talented in traditional surgery doesn’t necessarily mean one excels in minimally invasive techniques.

Gao Jian likely only has talent for traditional surgery.

If that were the case, it would be a real pity.

“Maybe I’m just too impatient. I’ll follow your advice, calm down, and keep trying.”

Gao Jian nodded earnestly.

“Alright, I need to get back to work with Dr. Xu. Goodbye!”

Seeing Dr. Xu nearly at the meeting room door, Zhou Can hurried after him.

Dr. Xu seemed rather socially withdrawn.

Unlike other doctors with a bit of standing who actively networked, Dr. Xu rarely interacted with anyone.

It was understandable, though.

Falling from high status can lead to serious social awkwardness.

Schmoozing with those you once looked down on feels strained; and mingling with equals often proves troublesome.

Thus, reclusiveness became his best form of self-protection.

“Teacher, can you explain why Director Hu was twirling his hair?”

Zhou Can chased after him and asked.

“Tell me, is the hair in your hand still there?”

Dr. Xu replied without turning his head.

Zhou Can raised his hand to examine it closely.

“W-where did it go?”

He was shocked to discover that the hair he’d been holding had vanished.

“Mine is gone too!”

After inspecting, Jin Mingxi found the same thing.

“Do you know why it’s gone?” Dr. Xu asked, glancing at them meaningfully.

Zhou Can recalled carefully,

“It must have fallen when I went to thank Director Tan and Director Yin. I was so engrossed in our conversation I lost track of the hair in my hand.”

Jin Mingxi responded dejectedly, “I don’t even remember when I lost it. After holding it for so long, I just forgot about it.”

Dr. Xu, as if he had expected this outcome, said matter-of-factly,

“If you were holding a golden necklace or a priceless diamond, would you lose it?”

“Of course not,” they both replied, shaking their heads in unison.

“Exactly! Hair is trivial and worthless; from the moment you start holding it, you never really care. So when it’s lost, it’s lost. And being so fine, it’s bound to go missing more easily.”

Dr. Xu’s words rang true.

Because you never cared about it in the first place, its loss was inevitable.

“Director Hu holds a strand of hair in each hand to train his focus. During surgery, you must maintain razor-sharp concentration, or failure will soon follow. A typical minor surgery might last only fifteen to thirty minutes.”

“But for a complicated, major surgery, it could take over ten hours—or even longer. Maintaining such intense concentration is rare; most people’s focus begins to wane after about half an hour, leaving them exhausted and needing a break.”

At that moment, Zhou Can and Jin Mingxi finally understood.

They were even more in awe of Director Hu.

What seemed like simply raising an arm to pinch a strand of hair to steady it was actually a method to hone two fundamental surgical skills at once.

Could this be the legendary art of returning to simplicity?

Just as martial arts masters achieve the ultimate form by simplifying complex moves, surgeons too can perfect their craft by focusing on the basics.

Yet many surgeons remain at the attending level all their lives, never reaching such profound skill.

“Now, do you understand why Director Hu can hold onto two strands of hair without losing even one?”

“We do!”

They both nodded in agreement, clearly enriched by the lesson.

Director Hu’s specialized training method had reached an advanced level—improving both hand steadiness and the ability to maintain prolonged concentration.

“Teacher, how long can Director Hu hold those strands without a single drop falling?”

Zhou Can was eager to learn just how formidable Director Hu was.

“I’m not entirely sure. But during one major surgery, when several teams worked together for over eighteen hours, Director Hu’s portion lasted about thirteen hours. He maintained perfect focus throughout, without rest. His endurance and concentration were truly astonishing.”

Dr. Xu recalled the incident before adding,

“It was terrifying.”

Thirteen whole hours—who could ever do that?

Zhou Can admitted he could barely maintain focus for forty to fifty minutes before his mind started to wander. In surgeries exceeding three hours, he felt drained and foggy.

Looks like I need to deliberately train these advanced surgical basics, just as Director Hu does.

“Teacher, how did you develop your rapid surgical technique? Care to share some secrets?”

Zhou Can was audacious enough to ask anything.

Dr. Xu, whose record for the fastest surgery in his category was truly extraordinary, was certainly no ordinary man.

And then there’s Wu Baihe, famously known as the ‘Peak Scalpel’ of the Surgical Department, who likely has his own unique approach.