Chapter 379: A Night of Farewell and Return

“Honey, what’s wrong? Does the hospital need you for another emergency rescue?”

Su Qianqian lazily cracked open her eyes.

Getting woken from sweet dreams was nothing new for her.

Now and then, Zhou Can would get an emergency call from the hospital in the middle of the night. Even if he was in the middle of something with his girlfriend, he’d have to throw on clothes and rush off to save someone. For doctors and nurses, that’s part of the deal—you have a duty to jump in and help save lives anytime.

At least for him, these late-night emergency calls only happened once or twice every so often.

In the Emergency Department and other specialty departments with critical cases, many older Chief and Associate Chief Physicians were conditioned by years of training.

The phone rings in the dead of night and, like clockwork, they’d sit up and speed through getting dressed, ready to dash out and rescue patients.

“One of my mentors suddenly fell ill at home in the middle of the night. He’s being rescued at the hospital right now—I need to go. Pull the blanket up, I’m afraid I won’t be home until tonight!”

Zhou Can leaned down and gently kissed her forehead, then slipped out of the bedroom, quietly closing the door.

He’d barely walked a few steps into the living room when Wei Fang’s door opened. She poked her head out, eyes wary and scanning the scene.

“Wei Fang, I’m heading to the hospital for an emergency. Nothing else is going on. Get some rest!”

Zhou Can strode to the entryway, left, and closed the door behind him.

He was really satisfied with Wei Fang’s work.

Not only was she deeply loyal, but also incredibly alert. With her keeping Su Qianqian safe, he could truly relax.

……

About fifty minutes later, Zhou Can finally arrived at the Cardiothoracic Surgery operating room.

But he was already too late.

He never got to see Chief Hu Kan one last time. He was gone.

Every doctor and nurse who’d joined in the rescue looked heavyhearted. Some of the women even had tears in their eyes, quietly weeping.

Zhou Can’s chest tightened, grief weighing him down.

Scenes from the past with Chief Hu Kan kept replaying through his mind—how amazed he’d been when they first met, how tensions flared between Dr. Xu and Chief Hu, even a period when Zhou Can nursed a grudge against Chief Hu.

It wasn’t until he started his residency in Cardiothoracic Surgery that he and Chief Hu slowly began to connect.

Later, Chief Hu came to appreciate him, teaching him surgical skills in the department. More than a year ago, Chief Hu even made peace with Dr. Xu just to take him on as a true apprentice.

From then on, it was always Chief Hu, dragging himself through illness to guide Zhou Can through surgeries or case reviews or clinical medication decisions.

Back then, with Chief Hu alive, Zhou Can never thought much of it—they were together nearly every day.

Now he was suddenly gone. All the kindness, care, and help loomed even larger. Zhou Can knew he’d just lost a mentor who’d helped and cared for him countless times.

The more he thought about it, the more it ached.

He’d tasted sadness before, but the pain of losing someone for good—this sharp ache grew stronger the longer it lingered. When he first arrived and learned Chief Hu hadn’t made it, he was just a little sad.

Now, replaying all the good Chief Hu had shown him, his heart felt like it was being cut with a knife.

The hurt ran deep, and guilt crept in.

If only he’d made it to the hospital sooner. Maybe—just maybe—he could have helped save him.

At the very least, he could’ve said goodbye.

As the apprentice Chief Hu Kan cared about the most, not being there at the very end filled him with regret.

“Dr. Zhou, try not to be too upset. The dead can’t come back. My condolences.”

Deputy Director Lu was one of those who’d helped with the rescue.

He patted Zhou Can’s shoulder, speaking in a gentle, comforting tone.

“Chief Hu was fine just yesterday. How could he just be gone now? It happened so suddenly!”

Zhou Can’s voice sounded hoarse.

There were no tears, but his heart was bleeding inside.

“Severe heart failure combined with a myocardial infarction. By the time he arrived, his hands and feet were already cold. They rushed him to the OR, but before surgery even started, his pupils had already dilated. The CPR after that… we were all just fighting for a miracle, trying to snatch life from death. Sadly, we couldn’t turn the tide.”

Deputy Director Lu described the rescue in detail.

For patients with heart problems, nighttime attacks are the most dangerous. Everyone’s asleep, so it’s hard to catch the signs in time.

When they finally realize, the worst has already happened.

“Has the body already been moved?” Zhou Can asked.

“It’s in the small morgue. They’ll take him to the funeral home after sunrise. The family’s over there, too.”

Deputy Director Lu replied.

“Alright, thank you, Director Lu. I’ll go over and take a look.”

Zhou Can made his way to the small morgue—what everyone called the mortuary.

He found plenty of family members gathered there, along with doctors in white coats.

One female doctor in dark green scrubs sobbed at the side of the gurney, her thin shoulders trembling. Her grief was painfully obvious.

Usually, even if a patient dies, doctors won’t come to the mortuary.

On one hand, family members are emotionally unstable after a death and can act out. If a doctor got hurt by a distraught relative—who’d take the blame?

On the other hand, the mortuary is for storing bodies. It’s dark, unsettling, crawling with viruses—nobody wants to be there. Tuyu Hospital has almost four thousand beds. That’s already a huge number, even if it’s smaller than some major hospitals with over ten thousand beds.

Most departments at Tuyu run with patient beds far beyond capacity.

Many of the beds in the corridors are temporary—not even officially counted.

Thousands are admitted daily for treatment. Lots are critical cases, some delivered by ambulance already on death’s door. A few deaths per day are sadly routine.

Nighttime is usually the peak for patient deaths.

So even now, there were several groups of relatives in the mortuary; three people had died tonight, not just one.

Zhou Can immediately recognized the grieving woman in green scrubs. It was none other than Director Xueyan.

Jin Mingxi was there as well, standing solemnly by the gurney, his eyes fixed on the yellow body bag resting atop. It needed no explanation—this had to be Chief Hu Kan’s body.

Beside Director Xueyan, family members stood weeping or with grief etched across their faces.

“My condolences.”

Zhou Can addressed Chief Hu’s son.

“Mm…” Chief Hu’s son’s eyes were bloodshot. He pressed his lips together and nodded, trying to keep it together.

Zhou Can knew Chief Hu’s son only because he’d often helped Chief Hu to the car after work.

After comforting him, Zhou Can approached the gurney, slowly squatted down, and gazed at the body bag. His face was solemn, pain spreading slowly across his features.

It kept deepening, hard to hold back.

“Teacher… Meeting you was the greatest fortune of my life. Thank you for teaching me everything, helping me grow so quickly…”

He mourned silently in his heart.

Right then, all he could think about was how good Chief Hu had been to him—their meetings, their time together.

Chief Hu’s care in life equaled Zhou Can’s pain in his passing.

Human emotions are endlessly complex—it’s what gives the world its brilliance, its color.

After a long while, Zhou Can reined in his sorrow. He gently patted Director Xueyan on the shoulder. “Yanjie, don’t be too upset. I believe when Teacher passed, he was at peace. He’d already made arrangements for the department—he must have seen this coming.”

“Wuwu…”

Director Xueyan kept sobbing, unable to stop.

“Come on, stand up. Later, when it comes time to handle Teacher’s affairs, let’s do what we can to help out and send him off with honor.”

Zhou Can helped her up.

Her body was still trembling.

Getting her out of there was the only way to help her regain control over her grief.

Before leaving, Zhou Can turned to Chief Hu’s son. “Yanjie and I were Teacher’s dearest students. We’re heartbroken about his passing. If your family needs anything, just ask me anytime. Once details of the funeral are set, please let us know.”

“Thank you both!”

Chief Hu’s son bowed deeply.

“Dad had everything set up before he passed. We’ll keep things simple. We’re planning a memorial in two days, then the burial.” Chief Hu had one son and two daughters.

The arrangements were handled mostly by the son.

“Once we’ve picked the place, I’ll let you both know!”

“Alright!”

Zhou Can nodded.

“Do you want to save my number?”

“Dr. Zhou, I have your contact. Dad listed all the important friends and students before he passed.”

Hearing that, a fresh wave of sadness swept through Zhou Can.

“Once a teacher, always a father. A teacher’s kindness is heavier than a mountain, deeper than the sea. If you ever need help, call me anytime. That’s the least I can do.”

Zhou Can again assured Chief Hu’s son he meant every word.

He doubted Chief Hu’s family was especially well-off.

If there was truly any need, he’d help without hesitation.

“Thank you!” The son nodded firmly.

“Take care!”

Supporting Director Xueyan, Zhou Can walked away.

Just before he left, Zhou Can noticed Jin Mingxi still standing there, silent, face solemn.

Jin Mingxi was actually an incredibly loyal person.

Though Chief Hu only taught him for about a year, as soon as Jin Mingxi heard the news, he showed up early for this farewell. Actions like this really touched people.

Chief Hu mentored many students. Yet even some old apprentices didn’t show up, even those he mentored for years.

Maybe some hadn’t heard.

But some just didn’t care this much.

Plenty of people are cold—when someone’s gone, feelings fade fast.

Zhou Can had barely left with Director Xueyan when her phone rang.

She slowly fished it out and answered.

To respect her privacy, Zhou Can let go of her arm and stepped aside.

She simply responded, “Okay. I understand,” then hung up.

“The hospital just called—they want me in on an urgent meeting.”

“Do you want me to take you there?”

Zhou Can looked at her with concern.

“It’s fine. I can handle it.”

She wiped away her tears and hurried off.

Chief Hu’s sudden death was a huge event for the hospital. He was one of their most renowned figures.

And it was only just after four in the morning. An emergency meeting at this hour could only be for crisis planning.

Though Zhou Can was one of Chief Hu’s top apprentices, he didn’t have the rank or department status to join that kind of meeting.

……

By around 7:50 in the morning, Zhou Can was back in the Emergency Department.

The loss of an important doctor didn’t stop the hospital’s work. Everyone got on with their jobs. Even heavy hearts had to be set aside for now.

“Morning, Dr. Zhou!”

“Morning!”

“Dr. Zhou, you’re finally back in our Emergency Department! That’s great news!”

Colleagues greeted Zhou Can left and right, grins bright with excitement.

A familiar figure appeared, face expressionless. It was one of Zhou Can’s two mentors—Dr. Xu.

“Good morning, Teacher!”

Zhou Can hurried up to say hello.

“Hurry up and get prepped in the operating room!”

Dr. Xu’s voice was clearly tinged with hoarseness. He must have already heard about Chief Hu’s passing.

Zhou Can headed straight for the OR, while Dr. Xu went to greet the outpatient doctors.

Nothing else to it—Emergency runs the hospital’s busiest department. Now that Zhou Can was back, they could keep more surgical cases for their own team.

That’s the department’s biggest advantage.

Inside the OR, Zhou Can saw both familiar and new faces.

Compared to before, the operating room had been expanded.

There were now three permanent operating tables.

And each table sat in its own cubicle.

Turns out, even after being away for three years, some things had changed in Emergency.

“Morning, Dr. Lu! Morning, Dr. Cui!”

These two were doctors Zhou Can knew well.

Dr. Lu sticking around was a real surprise.

Maybe a round of staff competition in Emergency pushed Dr. Lu into gear, plus he did have some natural talent. He used to be a bit lazy and not very diligent.

But after some pressure, he gradually became more competitive.

He wondered how Dr. Lin Ping was doing now.

Back then, Dr. Lin Ping had poor skills and insight. After four years as a resident, he still wasn’t all that capable. Who knows if he finally got eliminated.

“Dr. Zhou, you really look a lot more handsome now! And you’ve got a totally different presence!” Dr. Lu looked him over from head to toe, marveling.

“You always know how to make my day, Dr. Lu! It’s great to see you all again.”

If not for Chief Hu’s passing, Zhou Can would have cracked a broad grin at that.

But the sadness in his heart made it impossible.

“Dr. Xu made arrangements yesterday. That table over there is yours now, Dr. Zhou.”

Attending Dr. Cui nodded toward the inner cubicle.

There, Zhou Can could just make out a familiar female figure, moving around. He stepped inside.

“Qiao Yu! It really is you!”

He was beside himself with joy.

“Thanks for not forgetting our promise, Dr. Zhou. You got me transferred over from the ICU. I’m all set!”

She grinned, waving at him.

The operating table was already spotless. All the surgical instruments and medications were neatly arranged.

Qiao Yu made her enthusiasm clear by throwing herself into work—she was absolutely thrilled to be his instrument nurse.

“I heard you spent your spare evenings working for free in the surgery department just to make sure you’d be a great instrument nurse for me. Is that true? I was incredibly touched when I found out.”