Chapter 303: When Reputation Fades, True Skill Shines

“Thanks for the encouragement!”

Zhou Can gave her a grateful smile.

Today’s time at the outpatient clinic drove home to him just how important reputation really is.

Even the best wine fears an empty alley.

His mediocre academic resume, lack of experience, youth, and low profile—all these were hurdles he needed to overcome.

For Du Leng, this was probably his happiest day in ages.

He’d long considered Zhou Can his rival. Watching as Zhou Can repeatedly solved difficult cases while he, a returnee PhD with his head full of medical knowledge, had nothing to show for it, left him restless and anxious.

He desperately wanted to flip the script, tired of being shown up by a homegrown graduate.

But fate, as always, is fair.

After three straight days of Zhou Can’s glory, today saw him suffer the most humiliating defeat of his medical career.

A whole day in the clinic, and he saw just two patients.

One even bailed on him—taking the test order and vanishing. That kind of thing almost never happened in a hospital.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the other patient took Zhou Can’s prescription, didn’t pay for the medication, and promptly went to register with Director Dai instead. Ended up consulting her for a second opinion.

That was a clear sign the patient just didn’t trust Zhou Can’s medical skills.

Even though Director Dai’s prescription and diagnosis matched Zhou Can’s exactly, who’s to say she wasn’t just covering for him out of professional courtesy?

Zhou Can was left out in the cold, while luck finally smiled on Du Leng.

Today, Du Leng received fourteen patients altogether. He punted two tough cases to other specialists, and handled all the rest himself.

Compared to Zhou Can, he came away with a true harvest of results.

No wonder he was in such high spirits.

Anyone would be happy watching their strongest competition stumble.

After finally getting the upper hand for once, there was no way Du Leng was going to just let the moment pass in silence.

Sudden fortune makes even the poor strut their stuff.

After days of scoldings and feeling like a failure, it was only natural he’d want to show off a little.

Today, he’d finally come out on top, the numbers looked great, and with Zhou Can suffering his own ‘cold snap,’ how could he sleep tonight without rubbing it in a bit?

Du Leng walked over, carrying his food tray, a spring in his step.

“Dr. Zhou, your luck with the ladies is something else! Whether it’s doctors or nurses, all those beauties seem drawn to you. Honestly, I’m pretty jealous.”

Usually, Du Leng and Zhou Can didn’t exactly get along, so chit-chat was rare between them.

Right now, he was just making conversation for the sake of it.

From his perspective, Zhou Can’s rapport with women truly was enviable—a parade of pretty faces by his side, and each one carried herself with genuine poise.

“Funny. It’s all about perspective. To those focused solely on the job, seeing me talk with nurses or female doctors just means we’re working hard to save lives. But in the eyes of someone as charming as Dr. Du, it looks like I have great luck with women and get to spend time with all these beauties.”

Zhou Can didn’t respond directly.

Instead, he offered an example to push back.

People see what they want. Different perspectives, different stories.

If someone always sees ghosts, it might be because they’ve got a guilty conscience. As the old saying goes: Lead an honest life, and you won’t fear midnight knocks at the door.

What it really means is that everyone reaches different conclusions when seeing the same thing.

Blind men feel an elephant and each describes something different.

“We’re all human, with basic needs! Dr. Zhou, you don’t need to act like a saint. It’s normal for young people to date around and try out different relationships. Abroad, that’s just how it is. Only those with no ability end up dating one person their whole life—or never find a girlfriend at all!”

No doubt, Du Leng had brains and could banter with the best of them.

After his comeback, he shifted gears.

“During clinic hours today, I saw you sitting there with nothing to do. Honestly, it felt kind of sad. Someone as skilled as you, yet hardly any patients—can’t help but feel for you.”

Classic fake sympathy—the cat crying over the mouse.

Zhou Can rolled his eyes, disgusted.

“If you want, I can send a few patients your way tomorrow. You wouldn’t believe it—they see ‘PhD from overseas’ on my badge and everyone scrambles for my slot, even willing to wait in line. I can hardly keep up!”

Du Leng’s real agenda was just to flaunt his good fortune in front of Zhou Can.

There was no genuine kindness behind his offer to help Zhou Can.

When did Zhou Can ever need charity? What a joke.

How could a silver-plated show-off dare bark in front of him?

“Thanks for your ‘kindness’, Dr. Du. You sure hand troublesome patients to other experts a lot. Remember the little boy who swallowed a live fish yesterday? Didn’t you kick him over to me? When I went on rounds today, his family was still talking about you—complaining that an overseas PhD couldn’t even diagnose their kid! Honestly, I was fuming. So unfair! People forget even overseas doctors are just human. Studying abroad for a couple years doesn’t mean you can diagnose everything!”

Clapping back at shameless types like this was Zhou Can’s greatest pleasure.

He couldn’t believe Du Leng had the nerve to brag. If showboating was his thing, Zhou Can was happy to point out how often he shuffled tricky cases to others.

If you want to strike, go for the weakest spot; if you want to embarrass someone, do it right.

If Du Leng had left Zhou Can alone, there wouldn’t have been a problem.

But if he came looking for trouble, he’d get exactly what he asked for.

Sure enough, as Zhou Can spoke the words, Du Leng’s face turned green and his smile froze.

He looked like he’d just swallowed a fly—utterly miserable.

“Zhou, come here! I’ve got great news—just got a call from the Tuyu Hospital lab. That little boy’s ANA test came back weakly positive. You were right all along! He’s highly likely to have systemic lupus erythematosus.”

Director Zhang had just hung up the phone and, brimming with excitement, called out the good news to Zhou Can across several tables.

She was just too elated to contain herself.

That boy’s illness was intensely complicated and hard to diagnose.

Now they’d cracked the case, it was enough to make her genuinely thrilled. Her first thought was to rush over and share the news with Zhou Can.

Because Zhou Can had been the first to suggest that bold diagnosis.

“That’s fantastic! Now that we know the cause, the kid can be saved.” The gloom from earlier vanished in an instant for Zhou Can. “This disease is terrifying, but if we catch it early and keep it under control, he can make it. Even if there’s no cure, we can save his life.”

With Tuyu Hospital’s lab finding a weakly positive ANA, it highlighted the differences in each hospital’s testing capabilities.

Xinxiang Maternity and Child Hospital, Provincial Children’s Hospital, and the county women and children’s hospitals had all tested for it, but kept reporting negative results.

These misdiagnoses had seriously misled the attending doctors, causing everyone to dismiss lupus as a possibility from the start.

Cases like this aren’t actually that rare in clinical practice.

It’s true what they say: the very thing that helps you can also be what holds you back.

Diagnostic gold standards can empower doctors to make confident calls, but if those standards yield normal results, it can lock everyone into rigid thinking and lead to missed or delayed diagnoses.

Ultimately, this delays treatment and lets the best window for saving the patient slip by.

And it’s far from a one-off occurrence.

“Well done, Dr. Zhou!”

Yang Chan beamed at him and gave a big thumbs-up.

She clearly praised him in front of everyone to help counter Du Leng’s small-minded showing off and remind everyone of Zhou Can’s strengths and achievements.

As Class Monitor, Yang Chan could never stand to see a classmate bullied.

Even if it was Deputy Director Bai or someone like Director Xie of the Surgical Department picking on Zhou Can, she’d stand her ground, asking Director Zhang for help and backing Zhou up.

“Didn’t you also guess this diagnosis, Class Monitor? Maybe we should brag about each other a bit.” Zhou Can grinned and gave her a wink.

“So annoying!”

She shot him a glare, but it sounded more like she was teasing than actually upset.

Completely different from how she treated any other man.

The sight made Du Leng seethe with jealousy—after all his failed attempts chasing Yang Chan, he watched her cozy up to Zhou Can with no effort at all.

Anyone could see Yang Chan regarded Zhou Can as a close friend, while to Du Leng, she was just ‘a guest’.

Not a guest in the sense of a visitor—more like a distant, polite stranger.

“Dr. Zhou’s appeal really is something. Dr. Yang is the most stunning, reserved flower of our department, yet she only ever shows some warmth toward Dr. Zhou.”

Ji You laughed as she teased Zhou Can.

“She was my classmate and she’s our Class Monitor. Of course it’s different!”

After answering, Zhou Can ignored the green-faced Du Leng and hurried over to Zhang Bihua’s table.

“Director Zhang, now that we’ve found the cause, shouldn’t we start that child on medication tonight?”

He couldn’t wait to see the boy’s condition improve with proper treatment.

Since the ANA result was only weakly positive, lupus wasn’t fully confirmed. The only way to know was to try the treatment.

“Yang Chan, why don’t you and Zhou talk us through how to treat this case?”

Director Zhang wanted to test Zhou Can and mentor her favorite protégé at the same time.

She really did lead by example in guiding Yang Chan.

“Hmm… Since he’s had proteinuria at 3+ this whole time, we should limit protein intake, use angiotensin II receptor antagonists, and prevent exposure to ultraviolet light!”

Yang Chan jumped in first.

Her treatment plan matched the boy’s condition pretty closely.

“Zhou, what’s your take?”

Director Zhang didn’t overtly criticize Yang Chan’s answer, but her lack of enthusiasm made it obvious she wasn’t fully satisfied.

“I’d avoid medications containing estrogen. Judging by his current symptoms and the organs and systems involved, antibiotics won’t help much. If it’s possible, pulse therapy with methylprednisolone and IV immunoglobulin would likely be better.”

Zhou Can’s pharmacological reasoning was still just junior attending level, so his answer wasn’t perfect.

But compared to Yang Chan’s, his was clearly in a different league.

Yang Chan’s answer was textbook, like reading off the manual. Zhou Can’s offered solutions grounded in firsthand clinical experience.

There really was a big difference between the two.

“Both your treatment plans have merit. But given the situation, Zhou’s suggested pulse therapy is the best choice. We’ll start with methylprednisolone and immunoglobulin, but after five to seven days, we’ll have to reassess and adjust.”

Director Zhang summed things up.

She made sure to save face for Yang Chan, but the final plan matched what Zhou Can had proposed.

Director Zhang was always quick to act. With the diagnosis confirmed and a plan in place, she went straight to the ward, checked the child, and wrote the medication orders herself.

But she didn’t take over Zhou Can’s duties.

She had him enter the orders, staying behind the scenes to advise and supervise.

This way, the younger doctors got their chance to shine.

Many seasoned staff try to grab the credit for themselves. Director Zhang’s selfless approach made her all the more admirable.

Zhou Can didn’t say it out loud, but he respected her deeply.

Especially after his ‘even the best wine fears an empty alley’ experience earlier, he felt even more motivated to build his reputation.

He would never claim credit he didn’t earn.

But since this patient had always been his responsibility, and his contribution to the diagnosis was huge, having him issue the treatment orders was fair.

It genuinely made sense for him to handle the orders.

Once the orders were in, all that was left was to wait and see how the medication worked. That feedback wouldn’t come until tomorrow.

Every treatment takes time.

Treating lupus is a long journey—like hypertension, diabetes, or COPD, most cases need lifelong medication. There’s no cure.

After leaving the ward, Zhou Can knew Zhang Bihua would be staying late for two surgeries that night.

He volunteered eagerly, asking to join her in the OR.

Just in time—the pregnant woman had been weaned off the ventilator at lunch, her vitals had held steady all afternoon, and she was breathing well on her own.

She could now be moved to a regular ward.

With less to do, Zhou Can could now focus more on learning.

Surgery had always been his strong suit, and he planned to stick with it for his medical career.

Even his rotation in internal medicine was just groundwork for a future in surgery.

Director Zhang liked him a lot, so she happily agreed to his request.

But jumping straight into major surgical tasks was almost impossible for him.

Any time you want a senior doctor’s trust, you have to earn it bit by bit.

Supervisors never hand over patient care lightly—especially anything that involves picking up a scalpel. It’s seen as the highest-risk, hands-on activity.

Not just for trainees—even residents with two or three years under their belts might never have held a scalpel in surgery. That’s perfectly normal.

…

The next morning, after breakfast at the hotel, Zhou Can headed with the experts to Xinxiang Maternity and Child Hospital.

The seven-day specialist clinic was almost over—today was day five, nearly the end.

Looking back, Zhou Can felt the last four days had taught him more than a month of residency at Tuyu Hospital. Getting roped in by Director Shang of the Gastroenterology Department to attend the special clinic was absolutely the right call.

That’s life—if you don’t venture out, you never know what tomorrow holds.

If he hadn’t done solo clinic sessions, he wouldn’t have realized just how crucial reputation is for a doctor. Watching the other experts attract patients and seeing Director Zhang’s long queues, while Zhou Can’s desk stayed empty, stung more than he’d expected.

But it’s exactly these experiences that show him what to aim for in the future.

It’s like a rich kid: while his parents are paying, he spends freely and never thinks twice. He doesn’t know how hard it is to earn that money.

But after a family setback, when there’s nothing left, he finally learns the value of every cent.

If only he’d learned that lesson earlier—if he’d saved even a little, he’d never go hungry after the fall.

Sometimes, understanding means more than anything else.

The first thing Zhou Can did when he arrived at the hospital was rush to check on the boy in the ward.

After starting medication, the boy’s temperature dropped, almost returning to normal. His cough, vomiting, and stomach pain eased considerably. His stools, once watery, were now light brown and loose.

Diarrhea episodes had dropped from twenty a day to just five.

And the boy’s father was thrilled to tell Zhou Can his son had eaten two buns and had a bowl of porridge that morning—clear sign his appetite was back.

All the evidence pointed to the diagnosis being lupus, and things were finally looking up.

This kind of improvement was a world apart from that of two days ago, when fasting, GI decompression, IV fluids, and acid suppression only brought short-lived results.

Now, they’d identified the real cause and begun truly effective treatment.

The earlier recovery was just a temporary illusion—this time, it was real.