Chapter 236: Shadows of Suffering, Echoes of Kindness

This young woman wasn’t just battling stomach cancer—she was also missing three teeth, had multiple soft tissue injuries, and a mild concussion.

Zhou Can let out a quiet sigh as he read the results.

Now he finally understood why she couldn’t stop crying.

She was only twenty-two, with striking features; by any standard a genuinely beautiful girl.

Her figure looked tall and graceful too.

But her skin was sickly yellow. If not for illness and malnutrition, she wouldn’t even need skincare; her complexion would be fair and radiant on its own.

There’s a saying: Men fear choosing the wrong career, women fear marrying the wrong man. The wisdom really holds true.

If she’d married the right person, she’d be an absolute knockout. But with the wrong man, she ended up like this. So young, yet worn down and nearly losing her life.

When a girl picks a boyfriend just by his appearance or sweet talk, she’ll end up swallowing all the bitter consequences herself.

“Did Director Shang mention a treatment plan?”

Zhou Can turned to the nurse from the admissions team.

They were in charge of bed assignments, entering patient information, handling medication and billing orders, and so on. The nurses always had a good grasp of the patient’s basics.

It’s worth noting: the head nurse assigns the beds, while the care nurse makes up the beds.

There were clear hierarchies among the nursing staff too.

The care nurses also checked vital signs and filled out the triple check forms.

“Director Shang recommends surgery and then chemotherapy to strengthen the effect. But the patient hasn’t paid nearly enough for the hospital deposit. The exact treatment plan will have to be discussed further.”

The nurse shot a worried glance at the woman.

Her words were gentle and a little vague.

But as a professional, Zhou Can understood right away.

Hospitals aren’t charities. For patients in immediate danger, they might step in to save lives. But cancer patients who can’t pay their bills? Most of the time, all the hospital can do is stand by and watch.

Bankrolling surgery and chemo for a patient? Don’t even think about it.

Zhou Can sighed again. He truly sympathized with this woman, but there was nothing he could do.

If her family didn’t pay, she might be forced to leave as soon as tomorrow.

Even her medications would get cut way back.

It was a small miracle Director Shang admitted her at all.

Tuyu had a strict bed management system. If a patient stayed too long or their care wasn’t up to par, the department got docked points—sometimes even fined. These penalties affected everyone’s income, so doctors always thought twice before admitting someone.

After reading her chart, Zhou Can gave the woman a quick exam. Aside from random stomach pains and loss of appetite, she was holding up okay.

He went back to his office to update her medical records. Before he could finish, the admissions nurse called from the doorway.

“Dr. Zhou, there’s a new patient in Bed 79. Could you take her on?”

“Another patient for me?”

Zhou Can felt a bit overwhelmed.

Now that he’d proven himself and earned Director Shang’s trust, was he just going to be squeezed for every ounce of work?

He’d been told they’d work with him in the outpatient clinic that afternoon.

But if he had too many admitted patients, how could he possibly make time for outpatient consults?

“Don’t think of it as too much! Only the top trainees in our department can handle this many patients at once! Director Shang specifically requested you for this case!”

The nurse offered an encouraging smile.

Zhou Can couldn’t help but give a wry laugh. He wasn’t some gullible rookie, easy to trick.

Giving someone so-called honors just to dump more patients on them was nothing more than disguised exploitation. He wanted no part of it.

But when an assignment came directly from Director Shang, he couldn’t really refuse.

He followed the young nurse to the wards. Sure enough, the previous patient in Bed 79 had just been discharged—now a new woman filled the bed. She was in her forties, makeup expertly done, her aura all sleek urban grace.

Even sick, she still looked put-together and highly capable.

Compared to the stomach cancer patient in Bed 77, her situation was worlds better.

Five family members clustered around her bed, all dressed well.

A well-off middle-aged man, probably her husband, wore designer casuals; he looked every bit the successful executive.

The older couple chatting by her pillow looked like her parents.

Another woman, maybe in her fifties, sported a fancy wave perm, stylishly colored hair, and carried an LV bag.

The rich always seem to have the company of other rich, successful people.

And the poor, well, they’re usually surrounded by others like themselves.

‘Like attracts like.’ You could see the truth of that old saying right here.

It’s just human nature.

The strong gravitate to the strong, the weak stick together too.

Put someone with less than two hundred yuan to their name and an income under two thousand alongside a millionaire with ten million in the bank? You wouldn’t even have to say a word—the poor person would want out.

The pressure from the wealthy was just too much.

Nobody likes to feel small.

Watching the rich feast on delicacies while you gnaw a plain bun, unable to spare two bucks for bottled water and stuck with tap water—it wears on the spirit.

Those passing by gave the rich family looks of respect and envy. The poor family? They got the stares of disdain and mockery.

Who could endure that for long?

So the poor stick to their own, and the successful gather together too.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Zhou Can, your attending physician. If anything comes up during your stay, feel free to reach out to me directly or let a nurse know.”

Now, Zhou Can’s own net worth far exceeded most well-to-do folks.

Standing before this stylish family and their white-collar patient, he kept perfectly calm—polite and professional.

“Hello, Dr. Zhou. Sorry to trouble you during my stay!”

She greeted Zhou Can with a warm and very polite smile.

“Have a cigarette!”

Her husband offered him a pack of premium Zhonghua cigarettes.

“Thank you, but I don’t smoke. Also, you can’t smoke in the wards. If you really need a break, there’s a smoking area at the end of the hall.”

Zhou Can waved away the offer gently.

“Could I take a look at her test results and chart?”

The family quickly stepped aside, making room and cooperating with the doctor’s work.

Truth be told, it was easier dealing with people from higher social classes.

Doctors preferred families who acted like this.

The worst were those penny-pinching types—whether they had a bit of money or none at all—they questioned every use of a cotton swab, terrified of spending another cent.

“So for now, it’s just suspected cirrhosis, and the actual cause is still being investigated?”

Zhou Can turned to confirm after reading her file.

“That’s right! Professor Shang personally checked my case. After reviewing my results, he said the cirrhosis likely had another underlying cause and wanted me admitted for further tests.”

The woman nodded.

Cirrhosis can be a truly dangerous disease, separated into compensated and decompensated stages.

If caught early in the compensated stage, treatment can be very effective.

But once it advances, liver function collapses, leading to kidney failure, multiple organ issues, severe fluid build-up, spleen swelling, digestive bleeding, vomiting, black stools—the works.

But the liver is the body’s quietest organ. Early cirrhosis is almost impossible to detect in time.

This patient only came because of some abdominal discomfort, low appetite, and fatigue—she was worried something was wrong.

Thankfully, her awareness about her health was strong.

If she’d waited any longer, the consequences could be dire.

“May I ask you some questions about your symptoms and medical history now?” Zhou Can checked if she was comfortable to continue.

The care nurse was already checking her vital signs and taking notes.

“Of course! Anything you need to know, just ask!”

She agreed readily with a smile.

Still, the way she’d occasionally knit her brows said she was genuinely feeling unwell.

Many patients get impatient or rude with staff when they’re sick and miserable.

But here she was, clearly in pain, yet still gentle and respectful. That sort of patience and grace ran deep.

“What do you do for work?”

“My main job is a lawyer. I also do legal counsel for companies on the side.”

No wonder she had that high-powered white-collar vibe.

Lawyers usually earned good money too.

Those with a reputation could barely keep up with all the cases coming their way.

“Have you felt any abdominal pain?”

“A little, but nothing sharp. Feels kind of bloated right here.”

She pointed to the area near her liver.

Zhou Can asked questions and took notes as he went.

Outpatient doctors sometimes had barely any time—seeing multiple patients a day—so interviews rarely went deep. With common illnesses, the doctor might not spend three minutes with the patient.

More often it was a quick look-over and then a flurry of tests.

With so many lab results lined up, a patient could spend all day waiting to get checked. If they got their answer before the doctor was off duty, they were lucky.

Big hospitals could really drag things out like this.

If the results didn’t come until the next day, patients returning to the clinic were often told to book another slot.

“When did you first start feeling unwell?”

Zhou Can pushed on.

Cirrhosis didn’t just show up overnight—it took a long course to develop.

The human immune and defense systems run deep.

When anything goes wrong, the body sends distress flares right away.

Pain is a critical signal in that self-protection system.

A lot of people don’t know what pain actually means. Usually, it’s the result of dying cells releasing chemicals picked up by nerves—that’s pain.

You can often judge how dangerous a situation is by how much it hurts.

Severe, acute pain is the most alarming.

Mild pain is much less risky.

“It’s been two or three months. I can’t say exactly, but I do know that nothing tastes good these days. I used to love braised carp. Last month on my birthday, my husband made some just for me. After just a couple bites, I felt sick and wanted to throw up. He thought it was because he hadn’t cooked it right.”

She tried to recall just when the symptoms began.

A sudden change in taste is something to watch carefully.

Losing your sense of smell, vision changes, double vision, sudden changes in appetite—signs like these can mean something serious is coming.

Zhou Can went on to ask about her medical history, other health issues, family cancer history, allergies, and so on.

Once he had all the facts, he took her records back to his office—the first thing to do was update her chart.

In reality, medical records often weren’t completed in one go but improved over time.

Some trainees, juggling too many patients, tried to cut corners—like using template software that auto-filled charts after they put in some basics.

A few tweaks, and the day’s records were done.

No matter how many patients they had, this shortcut kept them afloat. But it came at a cost.

Every chart looked the same, and if a supervisor checked, they wouldn’t be impressed.

Plus, it robbed the trainee of real learning.

If you didn’t build real skills in training, when you finally became a real doctor, you had to learn everything from scratch. That type of gap ruined medical quality.

Zhou Can never took shortcuts writing patient notes.

He always wrote with care.

Tuyu Hospital had never let a senior doctor squeeze trainees so hard they were forced to use templates, either.

Management wouldn’t allow that.

In the long run, that method harmed new doctors and benefited no one.

It even increased the chances of medical mistakes.

Managing forty or fifty beds as a trainee? Safe care would be a miracle.

Sitting in the office, Zhou Can wrote up her notes, pondering what was truly causing her illness.

For the moment, her main symptoms were bloating, some mild pain, and cirrhosis.

There was no obvious abdominal fluid buildup on her scans yet.

The real roots of cirrhosis aren’t that numerous.

He picked up her liver function report for another look.

AST and ALT levels were both elevated.

When those two markers go up, you know right away the liver is in trouble.

He grabbed her imaging scans; her liver looked slightly enlarged compared to normal.

But with just this information, he still couldn’t pinpoint the cause.

Suddenly, it struck Zhou Can—he should ask if she’d had diarrhea.

He hurried to the ward. It happened to be lunchtime.

The family had brought in takeout for her.

Now wasn’t really the time to ask about bowel movements.

“Dr. Zhou, have you eaten yet? Or do you need something from me?”

Typical of a lawyer—she could see right away that Zhou Can had come specifically to talk.

“Not yet. I was going to finish your records before grabbing lunch. Then I remembered I still needed a few details from you, so I came straight over. Eat first. I’ll come back after you’ve finished.”

There was no way he’d ask about that while she was eating.

That would just be gross.

She already had so little appetite.

He turned to leave, and his eyes naturally drifted to Bed 77, his responsibility.

There lay the poor young woman with stomach cancer, quietly crying.

“Chen Xiaohong, is the pain really bad?”

Zhou Can checked on her with gentle concern.

Nothing hurt him more than seeing suffering, especially among the vulnerable and powerless.

“No, not really!”

She bit her lip, quickly dabbing at her tears.

Still, her eyes were red and swollen. Clearly, she’d cried in secret many times since being diagnosed.

Her eyelids were puffy and raw.

“How are you managing food? With no family here, you can order takeout, or even eat in the cafeteria downstairs.”

He was sure she hadn’t eaten lunch.

Her lips were parched and drained of color.

As sick as she already was, skipping meals just made it worse.

It would only speed up the disease.

“I’m not hungry! Don’t worry about me!”

She answered weakly.

“When’s your mother coming? You have to eat. I’m heading to the cafeteria anyway; I’ll pick something up for you. Is there anything you like?”

There was no way Zhou Can could pay her medical bills.

But he could easily buy her a few meals.

Even if it was just for the sake of basic human kindness, he wanted to help however he could.

She really had been through enough.

“Thank you, Dr. Zhou. Really, I’m just not hungry!”

She still refused.

But right then, her stomach gave a loud, empty growl.

She flushed red with embarrassment.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t hungry—it was probably because she had no money. She worried he’d buy her food, and she wouldn’t be able to repay him.

So she lied, insisting she wasn’t hungry.