Chapter Index

    He’d actually assisted in plenty of major surgeries before—especially endoscopic operations.

    In fact, he’d often been the lead surgeon.

    But this was his very first time truly leading a level-four major operation.

    It made him acutely aware of where he still fell short—mental resilience, medical knowledge, surgical experience, and high-level rescue skills. He had room to grow in all of them.

    Compared to the average doctor, he was already outstanding.

    But if he wanted to become the backbone of his department, or even the ace of Tuyu Hospital, there was still a long way to go.

    Suddenly the old saying “medicine favors experience” rang truer than ever.

    Take the recent emergency, for instance—Hu Kan’s ability to pinpoint the problem so quickly came entirely from his wealth of experience in cardiothoracic surgeries.

    Zhou Can had guessed that the patient’s unstable arterial pressure was due to excessive pulmonary vascular resistance, but he genuinely didn’t know what could cause that.

    Hu Kan, on the other hand, had casually explained that it was because of the child’s pulmonary vascular maldevelopment.

    That’s what true experience looks like.

    And when it came to saving the patient, Zhou Can ran out of options after performing atrial septostomy and using pulmonary vasodilators with no effect.

    But Hu Kan was like a living encyclopedia, constantly offering new solutions and guiding him through step by step, determined to make the operation a success.

    Some of Hu Kan’s methods, Zhou Can still hadn’t completely grasped.

    Back then, he simply followed every instruction—wherever Hu Kan pointed, he went. Even after using some rescue techniques, Zhou Can couldn’t figure out why they were so effective.

    That’s the kind of gap that separates their abilities.

    Hu Kan’s skills were clearly leagues above his own.

    When someone proposes a treatment you can’t even fully understand, but it works wonders, you can tell their expertise is on another level.

    “Dr. Zhuang, the child is in your hands now. I’ll escort Dr. Hu Kan back to Cardiothoracic Surgery.”

    Inviting Dr. Hu Kan to oversee the operation had been a brilliant decision.

    Only Zhou Can had enough influence to pull that off.

    Given Dr. Hu Kan’s condition, anyone else would’ve found it impossible to get him here.

    Being his apprentice and sharing a close bond meant it was just a matter of asking.

    “Alright! Take care on the way!”

    Dr. Zhuang finally felt the tension drain from his body.

    Watching Zhou Can fight to save the child for over three hours had put him on edge the entire time.

    “Dr. Hu Kan, thank you so much for coming to help! We’re deeply grateful!”

    After reminding Zhou Can, Dr. Zhuang turned to thank Dr. Hu Kan as well.

    “Don’t mention it. I came here to help Zhou!” Dr. Hu Kan said openly, not hiding his intentions.

    The others looked at Zhou Can with even more envy.

    A leading expert like Dr. Hu Kan—everyone wanted to learn from him, but most never got the chance.

    And yet here he was, showing Zhou Can special favor. That kind of opportunity was uniquely Zhou Can’s—no use being jealous.

    Just like that, the days flew by. In the blink of an eye, a week had passed.

    Zhou Can was so busy every day he barely had time to sit down.

    On top of his regular training, he always carved out time to study cardiothoracic surgery techniques and the Steady Scalpel Technique with Dr. Hu Kan. Compared to before, Dr. Hu Kan now taught him with even more dedication—holding nothing back.

    Luckily, Zhou Can didn’t disappoint. He was a quick learner.

    Every bit of knowledge, technique, and experience Dr. Hu Kan imparted, Zhou Can was able to absorb nearly in full.

    The progress was visible—he performed better in both surgeries and diagnoses.

    This made Dr. Hu Kan genuinely delighted, with a smile often on his face these days.

    Thanks to Zhou Can’s strong recommendation and his own foundation in the Steady Scalpel Technique, Jin Mingxi was directly transferred to Cardiothoracic Surgery for Dr. Hu Kan’s personal tutelage.

    This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for him.

    With expert guidance, Jin Mingxi advanced rapidly—changing almost by the day.

    His future was quietly taking a turn for the better.

    If he kept improving at this pace, there was no doubt his prospects would be incredibly bright.

    Cardiothoracic Surgery was already a heavyweight department. Add Dr. Hu Kan’s careful teaching and mastery of the Steady Scalpel, and Jin Mingxi would become the next Dr. Hu Kan before long.

    As for what it would cost Cardiothoracic Surgery to recruit Jin Mingxi from the Emergency Department—that was between the departments to iron out.

    Whatever the price, it wouldn’t be too steep.

    After all, Jin Mingxi was just an ordinary trainee—maybe a bit above average, but no rising star.

    Without Dr. Hu Kan’s mentorship, odds were he’d end up a decent but ordinary surgeon.

    So, if Cardiothoracic Surgery gave up a few regular talents or helped secure a couple of stronger trainees for the Emergency Department, that’d even things out.

    Zhou Can had now rotated from Gastroenterology to Endocrinology.

    Aside from being directly mentored by the department’s chief physician, his daily routine there was filled with study, clinic duty, interventional surgeries, discussing difficult cases, and ward management.

    Ward management was especially interesting. The department actually assigned him an intern to help manage the beds.

    Maybe they realized how busy he was—managing over ten beds and a mountain of tasks wasn’t practical. So, they had him focus on the important ‘advanced’ work.

    Like prescribing orders, making daily rounds, fine-tuning diagnoses, and adjusting treatment plans.

    And of course, performing interventional surgeries for patients.

    One day, Zhou Can was in the office writing orders for his patients when Pediatrics called.

    “Dr. Zhou, could you come over for a moment? A patient wants to present you with a banner—you need to accept it.”

    The call came from the triage nurse outside Clinic Room 17 in Pediatrics.

    “Who’s so thoughtful? Alright, I’m on my way.”

    Hearing that someone had brought a banner for him, Zhou Can couldn’t help but feel genuinely happy.

    It was a sign of real recognition from both patient and family.

    When he arrived at the Pediatric Outpatient Department, he spotted two familiar faces from afar.

    It was the elderly lady infected with the new Bunya virus and the little girl. After a period of treatment, both were nearly fully recovered and ready to be discharged.

    From a distance, the sharp-eyed little girl spotted Zhou Can first.

    “Uncle Zhou is here! Uncle Zhou’s here!”

    She shouted with excitement.

    This time, she wasn’t accompanied by her grandmother but by a well-dressed middle-aged couple with a distinguished air—they likely did well in life.

    The grandmother had mentioned before that her daughter and son-in-law often had to travel in and out of the country for work.

    “Dr. Zhou, we’re really sorry to trouble you to come here in person.”

    Seeing Zhou Can, the old lady’s face was shining with gratitude.

    Without him, both she and her granddaughter might have been lost.

    He had literally saved their lives—no wonder she was so grateful.

    “No trouble at all. I was planning to check on another patient in Pediatrics anyway. There was no need to go to all this effort, honestly. Saving lives is our duty as doctors—it’s simply what we’re meant to do.”

    Saying the right courteous words was always necessary.

    It was how people showed humility and respect during interactions.

    “Hello Dr. Zhou, we’re the child’s parents. Thank you so much for saving our child and her grandmother. After thinking it over, giving you this banner seemed like the least we could do to show our gratitude. Please accept it as a small token of appreciation.”

    The little girl’s father finished speaking, opened up the banner, and handed it to Zhou Can with both hands.

    The bright red banner read: “Superb Medical Skills, Attentive and Responsible!” On the right, smaller letters said, “From Chen Ziya and family, with heartfelt thanks to Dr. Zhou for saving our lives.” Below was the date.

    It was just a simple banner, but it stood for the family’s boundless gratitude.

    The lettering wasn’t printed—it was embroidered.

    Clearly a custom, high-end banner—not cheap. The family had really put thought and care into this thank you.

    “Thank you, thank you! You’re all far too kind!”

    Accepting the banner with both hands, Zhou Can’s face was lit up with joy.

    “So how’s our little patient feeling now?”

    It was only right for him to check on the child’s recovery—it eased any awkwardness.

    Conversations like that helped lighten the mood.

    “I’m all better! Look, I can jump and run!” she said and actually leaped up, making everyone laugh.

    Zhou Can turned to the grandmother.

    “And how about you? Is your health back to normal?”

    “Thank you for asking, Dr. Zhou. After treatment, I’ve fully recovered! I never imagined that having a pet could be so risky—nearly cost us both our lives.”

    Even now, thinking about it left her uneasy.

    “Do you think it’s safe for me to keep a pet in the future? I’m getting older, and when my granddaughter’s not home, it gets lonely. Having a pet keeps me company.”

    She voiced a concern held by many older people.

    Especially elderly folks living alone—they longed for companionship amid loneliness.

    Not every senior found romance in their twilight years.

    For all sorts of reasons, some never remarried after losing a spouse. With their children working elsewhere, seniors often stayed behind in an empty house.

    Raising a dog or cat naturally became the obvious choice.

    “I think you can definitely keep a pet. There’s no need to give up something you enjoy because of a scare. Just take the necessary precautions—get your pets vaccinated and checked regularly, give them routine deworming, and keep their fur clean.”

    That was the advice Zhou Can offered.

    This infection had happened because there were ticks on the pet, and the grandmother hadn’t noticed—leading to this incident.

    After accepting the banner and chatting for a bit, Zhou Can took his leave.

    He went on to check the young patient with congenital heart disease, who’d spent a few days in the ICU. Now, less than four years old, the little boy had already been moved safely to a regular ward.

    The boy looked full of energy.

    His skin was now a healthy yellow instead of a ghastly purplish-blue, and his breathing was steady and normal.

    The family was thrilled to see Zhou Can making his rounds.

    After his checkup, Zhou Can left the ward and immediately bumped into a familiar face.

    “Director Dai, hello!”

    “Haha, Dr. Zhou, you’re looking well! I heard a grateful family just presented you with a banner—congratulations!” Director Dai smiled warmly.

    “It’s nothing! I’m sure you’ve got banners stacked up by now.” Zhou Can truly didn’t think it was a big deal.

    Most chief physicians had received thank-you banners from grateful patients and families.

    “I’ve had a few, but they’re hardly piled to the ceiling. Besides, this isn’t the first good thing you’ve done, Dr. Zhou! I hear the department’s already using your congenital heart case to publicize our work—your reputation in Pediatrics is about to skyrocket!”

    Director Dai’s tone was tinged with sour envy.

    But really, who was to blame?

    Back when the patient’s family came making a fuss, Director Dai had shirked responsibility, afraid of trouble, pushing Zhou Can forward to face the family alone.

    Even when it came time to take the case, Director Dai claimed she wasn’t experienced with congenital heart disease.

    Now that things had turned out well, she was the one jealous. Zhou Can really didn’t want to deal with her.

    “Is that so? You sure are well-informed! Still, the credit for that surgery goes to Director Zhuang and Dr. Hu Kan from Cardiothoracic Surgery. Without their guidance, I never could have done it. The whole team deserves recognition—not just me.”

    Sometimes, saying the right thing was essential—and you had to do it well.

    Their conversation would easily reach Director Zhuang and the team. Hearing those words would make them feel glad.

    If Zhou Can selfishly claimed all the credit, he’d just end up making a lot of enemies.

    “You two look like you’re having a great chat. What’s the topic?”

    Director Yan approached with her assistant.

    After a few days away, she seemed noticeably older. The recent Bunya virus scare must have weighed heavily on her.

    Fortunately, after days of observation, neither she, her grandson, nor family caught the disease.

    Now, she was back at work like normal.

    It wasn’t just Director Yan—anyone who had physical contact with the elderly patient that day, even staff who just stood nearby, had been pretty shaken.

    That incident had left a real mark on the Pediatrics Outpatient Department.

    They all deeply remembered Zhou Can’s reputation.

    From now on, when Zhou Can warned them about safety, no one would dare ignore it.

    Director Yan greeting him so warmly meant that, in her eyes, Zhou Can’s stature had clearly risen.

    Skill truly does win you respect and standing fast.

    “Hello, Director Yan! We were just chatting about a congenital heart patient. Are you feeling all better now?” Zhou Can asked with genuine concern.

    Director Yan flushed a bit and forced a smile. “Thank you, I’m fine now. Just had a few days of fright. If I’d listened to your advice that day, I wouldn’t have been so worried.”

    Thinking back, she really did regret it.

    “I’m glad you’re well! I just mentioned it in passing. You’re always careful, it’s natural to have doubts. Please take care of yourself—you’re a pillar of Pediatrics. If anything happened to you, it’d be a huge loss to both the department and Tuyu Hospital.”

    After a few kind words, Zhou Can took his leave.

    Everyone liked hearing words of praise.

    From now on, Director Yan would only treat him more kindly.

    Maintaining good relationships with the senior staff was critical for Zhou Can’s career. As long as he kept doing what he was doing, things would go smoothly.

    At least for now, Zhou Can was thriving at Tuyu Hospital.

    “Dr. Zhou, Director Tang heard you’ve arrived and would like a word in the office.” A young female intern addressed Zhou Can with great respect.

    Zhou Can was pretty much the gold standard among trainees.

    What he had achieved was truly unprecedented—no one before or after could match it.

    Many young interns and trainees at the hospital already considered him their role model.

    Chapter Summary

    Zhou Can reflects on his first time leading a high-level surgery, recognizing the gap between his skills and the expertise of mentors like Dr. Hu Kan. He dedicates himself to learning, making rapid progress and gaining recognition, including heartfelt thanks from grateful patients. Fellow trainees such as Jin Mingxi also benefit from this environment. As Zhou Can builds strong relationships with senior staff and maintains humility, his reputation flourishes. The chapter highlights his tireless growth, meaningful mentorships, and the respect he earns throughout Tuyu Hospital.

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