Chapter 320: Opportunities and Promotion in the Medical World

Being a doctor is a truly unique profession. Whether it’s about ranking or getting promoted, seniority and years of experience matter a lot.

So why does a forty-something Chief Physician seem so young to people in the field?

Because this career demands patience and perseverance.

Plenty of young doctors glanced at Zhou Can with envy. Anyone could see that thanks to this visiting expert event, Zhou Can had taken a major leap forward.

Unlike those quiet moments when his reputation rose within one department, this time he was publicly recognized and promoted by the hospital director himself, right in front of everyone. That kind of status boost was on a whole new level.

It’s like being a star assistant in an ancient county office. This guy is great at solving tough cases, so the county magistrate keeps him close. Whenever a big case comes up, he’s the first one they call, and no one dares mess with him in the office—everyone wants to be his friend.

But once he steps outside that office, he instantly turns back into an ordinary official.

Because nobody out there knows he’s the magistrate’s favorite.

Only those inside the office really know.

Maybe only a handful of insiders are in the loop about his special relationship with the boss.

After a string of big achievements, the county magistrate decided to report his loyal service and contributions to higher-ups during a meeting at provincial headquarters.

The higher authority was impressed and decided to reward him.

An official delegation arrived, drums beating, carrying a large, honorary plaque and a formal certificate of commendation. They loudly announced his achievements and delivered the honors directly to his home.

Being praised and rewarded publicly by the authorities instantly made his reputation skyrocket.

Suddenly everyone knew how impressive he was. He wasn’t just another official anymore—he’d become a recognized and celebrated figure.

Now, whenever he ran into other officials, they’d instantly show him more respect.

Even higher-ups like captains or secretaries would greet him politely.

That’s what happened when Director Zhu publicly praised and promoted Zhou Can. No one would dare treat him like a regular trainee anymore.

“Has Xiao Zhou passed his physician certification exam yet?”

Director Zhu didn’t just promote him on a whim—he made sure everything followed proper procedures.

“Yes, I’ve passed.”

Zhou Can answered honestly.

“Good. With your certification, you’re officially a physician now—not just a medical assistant! You’ve probably got over a year left in your residency, right?”

Director Zhu nodded, his face full of warmth.

“That’s right! I never expected someone as busy as you to remember the length of my little residency.” Zhou Can managed to look both surprised and moved at just the right moment.

Life’s like a performance—the better your act, the better your luck.

And this was a pivotal moment for his career, so he played it perfectly.

Some workplace rookies think their pride is too important and that smiling at the boss or saying something nice is beneath them. Honestly, that’s not the right attitude.

Leaders are people too, with feelings like everyone else.

Open, pleasant communication is absolutely necessary.

Building a connection or just leaving a positive impression with the boss can only help you.

If you want to be considered for good opportunities, you need to put yourself on their radar.

“Haha. Do you think the hospital director is always above it all, never noticing frontline staff? For new doctors like you who show real promise, the hospital leadership keeps a close watch. Of course, we can’t remember everyone, but we care about everyone’s work and life. It’s just broader attention for most folks.”

Director Zhu was clearly pleased with Zhou Can’s response.

He laughed heartily, looking genuinely happy.

Zhou Can noticed that even when Director Zhu explained something small, he was completely sincere.

He didn’t brag or use politician-speak.

It made Zhou Can respect and like him even more.

“Xiao Zhou, the hospital’s ready to recognize your contributions and give you some rewards. For your exceptional performance, we’re opening up an outpatient consultation number just for you—you’ll get to see patients like a senior resident or above. Considering you’re still in residency, you’ll have as much freedom as possible; you can pick whichever department and timeframe suits you.”

Now that was a real game-changer.

Competition at Tuyu Hospital is brutal. So many postgraduates finish their training and dream of getting an outpatient consultation number, but few succeed.

Most are still stuck waiting in line, hoping for a shot.

For a clinical doctor, missing out on surgery mostly just limits your career growth.

For example, if two surgeons have similar backgrounds, the one who’s skilled in the operating room will always have a higher reputation and standing.

Even if a doctor never performs a surgery and still gets promoted, maybe even becomes chief, not making it into the OR isn’t always a dealbreaker.

But if you’re never allowed to see outpatients? That’s a disaster.

Most end up retiring as a mere attending, if they’re lucky.

And that’s usually in a role with little status—doing logistics, busywork. Some luck into teaching or research, but even then, they’re still at the bottom.

It’s not an exaggeration.

Just look around at all those doctors in their forties and fifties, still stuck as attending physicians, showing up every day just to clock in—that’s usually this crowd.

It’s not that they don’t want to move up, it’s that competition is just too fierce.

There’s never enough space for everyone.

In the end, most just accept their fate, grow older, and hope to quietly make it to retirement. That’s honestly the best ending.

But there’s one advantage to being this type—if you keep your head down, you’re much less likely to get into serious trouble.

When it comes to outpatient consultations, doctors have all heard the saying: university teaches you how to look things up in books.

Before the Medical Practitioners Law, any medical student could see patients after a few days on the job—especially in smaller hospitals. Requirements were loose.

Brand new doctors would start seeing patients, and running into conditions they couldn’t handle was common.

So what’d they do?

Doctors just worked around it.

They’d stash medical textbooks in the next room. If they ran into something tricky, they’d ask the patient to wait outside, flip through the books to check what to do, and then come back out to treat the patient based on what they’d just learned.

Nowadays, hospital residents need at least three years on the job before they can even apply for an outpatient number. That’s why it’s called a senior resident position.

Keep in mind, this only means you can apply—it’s no guarantee.

Major hospitals like Tuyu set the bar incredibly high, only letting the best attendings see outpatients.

【Honestly, I’ve been using Wild Fruit Reader for book updates and switching sources. Tons of narration voices—works on both Android and iOS.】

Let alone a resident.

In the future, requirements might go up again. Maybe only associate chiefs and above will be allowed to see outpatients.

Zhou Can hasn’t even finished two years’ training, but Director Zhu just approved his own outpatient number on the spot, giving him privileges that are almost unheard of.

This will be a huge leap for his career.

With the chance to see outpatients, he’s stepping into the spotlight and can start building a public reputation and following.

Those two things—though invisible—are often more valuable than a raise.

“Dr. Zhou, I have a favor to ask. The news said you used bone-setting techniques to treat a child’s dislocated arm. And looking at your recent consultations at Xinxiang Maternity and Child Hospital, most of your patients were kids. Would you consider joining our Pediatrics Department for consultations?”

Director Tang Fei from Pediatrics chose this moment to extend an invitation.

All these department heads and hospital leaders worked together seamlessly.

“Xiao Zhou, starting in Pediatrics seems like a great move. After all, your training is still with Internal Medicine. If you spend a day every week in Pediatrics, it’ll help your growth and progress a lot.”

Director Tan, who got along well with Zhou Can, took this chance to give him some advice.

Residency is about learning as much as possible.

Right now, Zhou Can’s diagnostic skills are at level five, matching an associate chief’s expertise. He’d be fit anywhere in Internal Medicine.

But during residency, you have to rotate through different departments.

Spending just a month or two in one place before moving somewhere else makes it hard to build momentum.

This time, Zhou Can became famous overnight—and it was all in Pediatrics.

So Pediatrics was absolutely the best place for him now.

Otherwise, he might lose steam if he chose Internal Medicine, and Pediatrics might lose its buzz as well.

“Thank you, Director Tan, for your advice, and thank you, Director Tang, for trusting me. I’d be happy to consult in Pediatrics.” Zhou Can had already thought this through.

He accepted Director Tang Fei’s invitation without hesitation.

“Alright! It’s settled. Xiao Zhou, submit your paperwork to Outpatient when you can. Someone will handle the arrangements, and we’ll assign your number tonight. You can start tomorrow.”

Director Zhu handled things personally, ensuring everything moved at lightning speed.

Most doctors wait months just for their paperwork to get approved.

But for Zhou Can, it was getting the VIP treatment.

Director Zhu was determined to strike while the iron was hot and keep his popularity in Pediatrics going strong.

“Xiao Du!”

Once Zhou Can’s business was settled, Director Zhu turned to Du Leng.

“Here! Here!”

Du Leng shot to his feet, looking extremely respectful.

Anyone without that kind of emotional intelligence would be wasting their doctorate.

After all, he was standing before the most powerful man at Tuyu Hospital—there was no such thing as being too polite.

“From what I know, your performance at Xinxiang Maternity and Child Hospital was rather ordinary and not up to expectations. You’ve got an impressive overseas degree, and that’s a great asset, but you also need a solid foundation. When I was young, I went through a cocky phase where I thought I knew it all. Turns out, I was just naïve and clueless.

“Eventually, I realized that I hadn’t conquered the world—if anything, the world stomped on me whenever I tried to act like a hotshot and failed at the basics. It was my mentor’s harsh words that woke me up. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

Director Zhu didn’t mind using his own embarrassing stories to warn Du Leng, showing just how much he valued him.

Exceptional talents like this were precious for Tuyu Hospital.

He offered Du Leng extra support and space for development.

“Thank you for your guidance. I’ll take your lessons to heart, focus on solid clinical skills, and do my best to live up to your expectations—and those of Director Xie and the other leaders.”

Du Leng promised sincerely.

“It’s great that you can recognize where you need to improve. Keep working hard!”

Director Zhu made a gentle downward motion with his hand.

“Take a seat.”

He looked over at Gao Jian, Yang Chan, Chen Jiaojiao, and the others.

“You all did well this time—even if there were a few flaws, your strengths stand out. Keep at it, become pillars of Tuyu Hospital as soon as you can. Xiao Gao, Xiao Chen, your residency should be nearly two years done, right?”

Director Zhu turned to Gao Jian and Chen Jiaojiao.

“Thank you for thinking of us. We’re almost done with residency!”

Both were postgraduate degree holders.

Their programs were a year shorter than Zhou Can’s bachelor’s track.

These days, the eight-year combined bachelor’s-master’s-doctorate program is popular. Graduates skip residency, work for a year, and jump straight to attending.

Of course, everyone has their own path—degrees aren’t everything.

Both Gao Jian and Chen Jiaojiao graduated from Imperial Capital Medical University, earning the attention of upper management with their outstanding performance.

“Internal Medicine and Pediatrics are both excellent departments. Work hard! Tuyu is rolling out talent reforms, and you’ve caught the right wave. If you put in the effort, I’m confident you’ll climb fast and achieve great things.”

Both smiled brightly at the director’s encouragement.

Skills matter, but so does opportunity.

This time, they’d really caught a lucky break.

“Alright, everyone! I know you’re all tired, so I won’t keep you. The twenty-seven of you get half a day off—go home, visit your family, rest, and come back ready to work.”

Doctors and nurses are so busy that having even half a day off feels like a real treat.

The younger staff cheered in excitement.

Once the leaders left, everyone headed home with their bags.

Zhou Can emerged as the biggest winner.

“Dr. Zhou, will you be able to see patients in Pediatrics tomorrow?” Director Tang Fei checked in with him.

“I’ll need to check with Director Shang from Gastroenterology. If he agrees, I’ll confirm and get back to you, is that alright?” Zhou Can was still technically a trainee in Gastroenterology—no matter how high his status, he didn’t dare get cocky.

It’s important to always ask permission when you should.

That’s a mark of respect for leadership.

“Of course—you should check with Director Shang. Here, write down my number so you can notify me once you’ve confirmed. That way, I can make sure everything’s ready in the outpatient room.”

In major hospitals, outpatient rooms are in short supply.

Each one can only accommodate a single physician.

With only so many available, scheduling needs to be done carefully, just like operating rooms.

Otherwise, doctors end up fighting for spots.

Zhou Can saved her number and headed to the dorm with his luggage.

The first thing he did back at the apartment was call Director Shang for permission. After congratulating him, Director Shang gave his approval without hesitation.

After all, Zhou Can had just earned glory for the Gastroenterology Department, and now that his status had risen, Director Shang wanted to foster goodwill whenever possible.

After getting the green light, Zhou Can called Director Tang Fei to confirm.

Everything was settled.

He tossed his dirty clothes in the washer—between the rescue this morning, his soaked uniform, and running gear, none of it had been washed yet.

As for the middle-aged man he rescued earlier—who knew who that guy really was?

Judging by his muscular build and the scar that ran over his forehead and face, he probably wasn’t any sort of ordinary citizen.

But given the chance, Zhou Can would do it all over again.

Through a doctor’s eyes, even a hardened criminal in danger of dying deserves treatment. That respect for life—that’s what being a doctor is all about.

The law would handle the rest if it really came down to it.

Just then, his phone rang.

“Hello, is this Dr. Zhou?”

“Yes, speaking.”

“I’m the information officer for Outpatient. Do you have time now to bring your ID, physician’s certificate, qualification certificate, academic credentials, and so on… over here so we can register your outpatient physician number?”

The young woman’s voice was warm and sweet.

“Sure, I’ll be right over. Who should I ask for when I get there?”

“My name is Yan Lele. Just look for me, or call this number if you get lost.”

She was the picture of respect toward Zhou Can.