Chapter 131: A Shift in Fate

Director Xie had designs on him; strategically, it would keep the Emergency Department from growing too powerful. No specialized department truly wanted to see the Emergency Department flourish.

After all, the Emergency Department is the primary choice for most patients’ registrations.

If it grew stronger, many cases would be handled directly, effectively stealing patients from specialized departments.

Luring Zhou Can into the Surgical Department would not only curb the Emergency’s expansion but also bring a brilliant talent into Surgery.

A win-win with countless benefits.

That’s why Director Xie was willing to lower his stance and go to such lengths to recruit him.

“I’m not considering that at the moment!”

Zhou Can politely declined Director Xie’s offer.

A good horse never goes back to old pastures.

Moreover, Director Xie’s revealed character made Zhou Can deeply distrust him—there was no way he’d entrust his future to such a man.

“What if I told you that thanks to your outstanding performance, you could join premier surgical departments like Neurosurgery or Cardiothoracic Surgery, where your future would shine?”

His gaze was fixed intently on Zhou Can.

He was convinced that such bait would tempt any trainee.

These two departments have extremely high entry thresholds.

Even with graduate or doctoral degrees, entry isn’t guaranteed.

“Thank you for your support and care, but I prefer working in the Emergency Department.”

This time, Zhou Can’s refusal was quite clear.

Otherwise, even if Director Xie offered more tempting conditions, he wouldn’t budge—and might even fly into a rage.

“Are you absolutely sure you won’t reconsider?”

Director Xie’s tone turned slightly cold.

“I’ve thought it through clearly.”

Once again, Zhou Can firmly refused Director Xie’s overtures.

Talent and genius are admirable, but without a nurturing environment, your achievements will fall short. You must face your shortcomings—your low academic background virtually rules out significant advancement in Internal Medicine. Surgery is your only real opportunity. If you insist on staying in the Emergency Department, I’ll ensure that all surgical departments train you with an emergency focus.

Seeing his persuasion fail, Director Xie resorted to threats.

They were all civilized people; he wouldn’t make overt threats.

Instead, he laid out the stakes, forcing Zhou to choose.

It’s like those shameless older professors who, enamored with a female student, don’t resort to violence to get what they want.

They deliberately sabotage a student’s paper or assign them futile research projects.

Ultimately, they coerce the student into accepting unreasonable demands.

Zhou Can found himself caught up in this unspoken rule.

If he refused, he’d be sidelined throughout his surgical training.

There’s no doubt about a chief’s power.

A word from Director Xie to the department heads and Zhou Can would find himself frozen out.

“With your big heart, I know you’ll rise to become the head of Surgery; you wouldn’t target a mere trainee over such trifles,” he added.

Zhou Can’s expression darkened slightly.

Flipping a table and cursing wouldn’t work—it’d be like signing his own death warrant.

Unless he intended to leave Tuyu altogether.

His only hope was that Director Xie, relying on his status, wouldn’t underestimate a mere trainee.

“Ha, flattery won’t work on me. Even if you take this to the director, I’d give the same answer.” Director Xie was well aware of the connection between Zhou Can and Director Zhu.

But if he dared threaten Zhou Can, he wasn’t afraid of him causing a ruckus.

In such matters, big shots truly can act recklessly.

Don’t naively think you can reason with them.

Summon Director Zhu, and you’ll likely end up with Zhou Can being criticized.

This phenomenon isn’t unique to hospitals—it’s the same in other organizations.

Leaders remain leaders, and the underlings, well, they’re underlings.

Challenging authority is a cardinal sin for those at the bottom.

“Can’t you show some mercy to a lowly trainee?”

Zhou Can made one final plea.

Was it because he clashed with Director Xie in the Emergency Department before? And now Director Xie holds a grudge?

Is he seizing this opportunity to retaliate?

That seemed unlikely—if Director Xie truly bore a grudge, he wouldn’t wait this long to strike.

On his very first day in Orthopedics, he might already face Director Xie’s oppression.

“Let me give you an example—if a mosquito buzzed around you, would you swat it?”

Director Xie didn’t answer directly.

Instead, he countered with an example, urging Zhou Can to think it over.

In that situation, nine out of ten would kill the mosquito.

Zhou Can gave a wry smile.

So, Director Xie compared him to a mosquito—was he really that despised?

After a brief pause, he replied diplomatically, “Swatting a mosquito can spread viruses and bacteria; I’d just shoo it away.”

That response was rather clever.

It was a subtle jab, implying that the ‘mosquito’ might be poisonous—don’t strike it.

“Why do you shoo it away?”

Director Xie pressed on.

“Because I fear being bitten by them.”

Cornered, Zhou Can answered reluctantly.

“Since you’re smart enough, why ask me? The workplace is as deep as the ocean—you’ll learn these lessons sooner or later. Now, get on with your work. The door to Surgery will always be open to you. Come back when you’ve figured things out.”

With that, Director Xie essentially showed him the door.

Yet, he still left a way out for Zhou Can.

Leaving the office, Zhou Can felt a heavy heart.

The tallest trees are struck hardest by the wind.

Being too outstanding had brought him this misfortune, leaving him genuinely frustrated.

Director Xie’s suppression was likely due to fear that Zhou Can might learn too much in Surgery and eventually become a major force in the Emergency Department.

It wasn’t personal.

It was all about departmental rivalries and interests.

For now, he could only take it one step at a time.

…

The next day, Zhou Can arrived at Tuyu Hospital’s Orthopedics Department as usual.

He booted up his computer to review his team’s surgical cases.

“Login failed!”

A four-character message popped up on the screen.

He assumed he had mistyped his password or credentials; but every retry yielded the same result.

“Director Xie acted fast!”

Immediately, Zhou Can understood what was happening.

Unable to access his team’s cases, he resorted to reviewing his old surgical records and medical files.

These were his personal documents, accessible anytime.

No special permissions were needed.

“Dr. Zhou, you’re here early!”

Dr. He, who had been on night duty yesterday with disheveled hair and dark circles, remarked.

“Morning!”

Zhou Can mustered a smile.

Other doctors in his team gradually arrived; Dr. Shan also showed up.

Their attitudes toward Zhou Can remained just as before.

This indicated that, being lower in rank, they were unaware of the unfolding situation.

After experiencing the indifference in the Emergency Department, Zhou Can doubted that his colleagues would firmly stand by him against higher-ups.

When push comes to shove, they’d all scatter like dodging a plague.

Such is reality.

“Hey, Dr. Zhou, why aren’t you checking your group’s cases today?”

Dr. Shan, who had worked with him for over two months, had grown quite reliant on his expertise.

For instance, only Zhou Can could have spotted that petty thief incident yesterday.

“My… login privileges must have been revoked,”

Zhou Can said bitterly.

“Revoked? That can’t be—the remainder of your Orthopedics training is still sixteen days. I’ll check for you.”

Dr. Shan doubted it.

She prepared to call the IT department immediately.

But when she checked the time—only 7:35—they hadn’t started work yet.

“Hold on, once the IT department is in, I’ll ask around. In the meantime, use my computer to check today’s scheduled surgery; there’s one case requiring nerve separation before bone reattachment, and you’ll be handling the nerve separation.”

Ever since Zhou Can had showcased his skills in vascular separation,

she had always assigned him the more challenging tasks of tissue separation and dissection during surgeries.

And Zhou Can had consistently performed brilliantly without a single error.

This had earned Dr. Shan even more respect and trust in him.

Around eight o’clock, Dr. Yang entered the office.

“Dr. Shan, I need to discuss something with you. Your trainee, Zhou Can, might need to be reassigned to the Outpatient Department for further training.”

Dr. Yang spoke very tactfully.

As expected, what was bound to happen, happened.

Fortunately, Zhou Can had already mastered most of the necessary surgical techniques and perioperative management in Orthopedics.

He wasn’t an expert yet, but his foundations were solid.

“Why?”

Dr. Shan was taken aback by the decision.

“This is a departmental arrangement. Dr. Zhou is slated to return to the Emergency Department, so his training is now tailored to suit that work.”

Dr. Yang’s words made everything very clear.

When a department head makes a decision, there’s no room for objection—only compliance.

“Hold on, I’ll call my mentor to discuss this.”

Dr. Shan clearly didn’t want Zhou Can to be transferred.

What can a trainee possibly learn in Outpatient?

Zhou Can didn’t even have a practicing physician’s license; in Outpatient, he wasn’t even qualified to accompany patients—merely an attendant or errand-runner.

This arrangement was clearly aimed at him.

Dr. Shan suspected that someone, envious of Zhou Can’s abilities, was deliberately sabotaging him.

Her mentor wasn’t one to be trifled with either.

Even the other chief physicians in the department, including the head of Orthopedics, had to show deference to her mentor.

“Dr. Shan, even if you approach Chief Resident Shen, it won’t help—you’d better comply with the department’s arrangement.”

Dr. Yang’s gaze flickered.

“What do you mean?”

Dr. Shan wasn’t naive; she was well-versed in the hospital’s inner workings and unwritten rules.

“I’m afraid even Director You of Orthopedics might not have the final say, so steer clear of provoking Chief Resident Shen.”

She stated this with firm conviction.

The doctors present began to understand the situation.

With Zhou Can’s login privileges suddenly suspended and now a transfer looming, it was clear he’d angered some bigwigs.

There were few in Surgery with higher status than even Director You or Chief Resident Shen of Orthopedics.

Zhou Can had undoubtedly crossed paths with one of Surgery’s heavyweights.

“Dr. Shan, thank you for your care and guidance during these days. Our paths will cross again—as surely as green mountains and flowing rivers. I won’t be able to join you in today’s nerve-separation surgery. My apologies.”

After returning home last night, Zhou Can had spent the night pondering.

He had already considered every possible outcome.

At least for now, the situation wasn’t completely dire.

Dr. Shan, only an attending, didn’t want her reputation tarnished by Director Xie’s verdict on this matter.

Her limited influence couldn’t change any outcome.

“Dr. He, thank you for your help and guidance these past days.”

Before leaving, Zhou Can knew he owed thanks to three individuals:

Dr. Hezhang from the Inpatient Department, Dr. Shan from the Operating Room, and Chief Resident Shen.

“Bro, every hardship will pass. Hang in there,” Dr. Hezhang nodded in encouragement.

He empathized with Zhou Can’s plight, though he was powerless.

And he wouldn’t get involved in the turmoil.

“Dr. Shan, please thank Chief Resident Shen on my behalf. I sincerely appreciate his guidance and care these past days.”

After saying that, Zhou Can’s eyes scanned the room.

He noticed that two trainees and Dr. He wore faint smirks.

When Zhou Can was around, his brilliance had overshadowed them; now with his transfer, they saw their own chance to shine.

“Goodbye, colleagues!”

Zhou Can didn’t take their schadenfreude too hard.

Survival of the fittest.

He understood their mindset—yet to forge ahead, one must be strong.

Tuyu Hospital consistently recruited increasingly talented individuals; if one wasn’t hard-working and excellent, even after Zhou Can’s departure, countless new geniuses would emerge.

“Dr. Yang, I’m not sure who to report to in Outpatient?”

Zhou Can looked at Dr. Yang.

“I’ll take you over. Every day, just be at Outpatient by 8 a.m. and clock out at 5:30 p.m. You won’t need to report to anyone else.”

This arrangement was utterly absurd.

It meant he’d even lose his mentor.

Forcing Zhou Can to do odd jobs all over the Orthopedics Outpatient.

Essentially, it was a free-for-all.

“So what exactly will I do in Outpatient?”

As he walked with Dr. Yang, Zhou Can asked.

“You’ll handle things as they come—if a patient can’t find the lab, give directions; or if the waiting area falls into disarray, help maintain order…”

These tasks were normally for triage nurses or security guards.

Having a doctor do them was a gross misallocation of talent.

Zhou Can was deeply angered.

Yet he didn’t direct his anger at Dr. Yang—it wasn’t his fault.

It was Director Xie’s plan.

Soon, Zhou Can was led to the corridor of the Orthopedics Outpatient. Dr. Yang greeted a responsible doctor and the Head Nurse, informing them that the Outpatient now had a special trainee.

News of a new doctor arriving spread quickly throughout Outpatient.

It was mostly the nurses’ chatter—it was utterly overwhelming.

Especially the triage nurses; many were temp hires and not formally trained.

Their job was simply to guide patients to their appointments.

Their qualifications varied greatly.

Gossiping came naturally to most women.

They whispered among themselves until news of Zhou Can’s transfer for odd jobs spread among all the Orthopedics Outpatient staff.

Some nurses and doctors eyed him as if he were a rare animal in a zoo.

At first, Zhou Can felt a bit intimidated.

But after a while, he slowly adapted.

Wearing his white coat and wandering around the Outpatient corridors and lobby like a fool was deeply uncomfortable.

Not only was he scrutinized like a rare animal by nurses and doctors, but even patients, their relatives, and touts cast strange glances his way.

For two whole hours, Zhou Can remained idle.

No one paid him any attention.

He was completely free.

Yet, no one assigned him any tasks.

Occasionally, patients asked for directions or which department to visit for their condition, and Zhou Can patiently helped them.

Orthopedics is divided into trauma, joints, microsurgery, and more.

Different bone ailments require registration with different departments.

Getting the wrong appointment can have significant consequences.

For example, a fractured arm mistakenly registered with a joint specialist,

whose expertise lies in joint injuries.

The treatment plans might then differ significantly.

Ideally, traction should be applied first for better results, but a lack of expertise might lead to immediate surgery.

Of course, before surgery, the chief surgeon would review everything a second time.

Yet sometimes the oversight fails, and surgery proceeds unchecked.

Resulting in postoperative deformities or poorer-than-expected functional recovery.

Why do specialist appointments cost so much?

It’s because these experts not only diagnose and plan treatment—they might even perform the surgery themselves.

Some high-risk surgeries, though doable by other doctors, are never as thorough.

When an expert handles it, you get a perfect outcome.

A registration fee of several hundred to a thousand yuan is totally worth it.

So for minor ailments and common illnesses, a general physician is sufficient—treatment methods are much the same.

But if treatment at several hospitals still doesn’t work, don’t skimp on a specialist appointment that excels in that area.

With Zhou Can guiding patient registrations, they were in good hands.

“Someone here just fainted… Doctor, doctor…”

Following the sound, Zhou Can saw a poorly dressed woman collapse in the outpatient waiting area.

He rushed over to examine her.

Her pulse and breathing were still present.

He exhaled in relief.

Only then did he take a closer look at her.

In her thirties, she had a sturdy frame yet looked extremely thin, her complexion yellowish—clearly malnourished.

Her forehead was beaded with cold sweat, her lips pale and a bit parched.

Her clothes were clearly cheap market finds.

They were faded in many spots, even showing signs of repair.

She wasn’t wearing any jewelry on her hands, neck, or ears.

Tuyu Hospital drew a diverse crowd; its reputation brought patients from across the province and even from far-off regions.

This woman likely came from a rural area.

She wore sneakers with soles nearly worn away.

What truly moved Zhou Can was her twisted right hand. With his trained eye, he immediately recognized a severe fracture.

Whether there were other injuries, he couldn’t be sure.

“Are any relatives here?”

After checking, Zhou Can confirmed she wasn’t in mortal danger.

He then stood and called out for any relatives to help assess her condition.

But no one came forward.

“Are any of her family around?”

Raising his voice, he asked.

But the noisy outpatient hall made it hard for his voice to carry.

“She appears to have come alone,”

remarked an elderly woman in her fifties.

The elderly woman’s right foot was wrapped in white gauze, and a cane lay nearby. Judging by the plaster, it was likely due to a fracture.

The gauze was discolored in parts, indicating it had been there for some time.

Perhaps she was here for a follow-up.

She was accompanied by two caregivers who were likely waiting.

Thus, she knew more about the collapsed woman.

“Her arm even seems shattered—no relatives around?”

Zhou Can believed that in sickness, family is the most reliable support.

“I saw her come in on her own—buying a medical record book, filling out forms, and waiting in line. She’s likely unaccompanied,”

the elderly woman said sympathetically.

With no other option, Zhou Can had to revive the woman and ask about her condition.

If needed, he might take her to the Emergency Department.

That department had a special protocol for unattended, emergency cases.

Specialist surgeries normally aren’t approved without relative consent.

But in emergencies, when a patient desperately needs surgery, consent can be bypassed by reporting to the Medical Department where a department head can sign off.

Outside working hours, you could report directly to the deputy director responsible, who would then authorize the procedure.

“What happened to her?”

A nurse approached.

“She suddenly fainted,” she explained.

As Zhou Can responded, he began pinching the space between her eyebrows.

Since the patient was only lightly unconscious with normal vital signs, this method was effective in waking her.

Moments later, she slowly opened her eyes.

“Miss, what happened to you?”

Zhou Can asked with concern.

“I… I’m dizzy. I haven’t eaten anything since last night…” she replied weakly.

Not eating for so long, combined with her injury, could easily trigger low blood sugar.

Fainting from hunger isn’t a joke.

It truly happens.

Zhou Can looked at the nurse and said, “Could you go to the cafeteria and get me a meal—no spicy foods like chili or garlic chives. Her right hand seems severely fractured.”

He pulled out a hundred-yuan note.

Fortunately, he had some cash on him. With mobile payments becoming ever more convenient, he rarely used cash these days.

These days, most people opt for mobile payments.

The nurse glanced at him in surprise, took the money, and dashed off to get the meal.

“Miss, did you come here alone?”

Zhou Can quickly got to the point.

He was mainly worried she’d faint again.

Also, he wasn’t sure if she had other fractures, so he didn’t dare help her up.

He let her lie down on the ground.

“Mm!”

She murmured in response.

Perhaps seeing Zhou Can pay for her meal, she felt more grateful and trusting.

Before Zhou Can could ask, she continued, “I was foraging for wild mushrooms and herbs on the mountain when a wild boar attacked me. My arm broke, and I think a rib or two snapped. At home, I only have an elderly grandmother in her eighties. I didn’t want her to worry, so I said I’d be away for a few days, then came straight to Tuyu Hospital.”

“I heard the medical skills here are excellent—my injury can heal faster.”

Her ordeal was heart-wrenching.

Her filial devotion filled Zhou Can with admiration.