Chapter 385: A New Standard in the Operating Room

Every surgical specialty has its own role. Master just one, and at best you’ll be a dependable assistant on the operating table. Only when you’ve become skilled in several specialties can you hope to lead as chief surgeon.

This is especially true for complex, high-level surgeries—they demand extraordinary abilities from a doctor in every respect.

That’s why many associate and chief physicians, despite their medical competence, end up assisting as first or second surgical assistants rather than taking charge themselves.

There are even some who value reputation above all who simply avoid stepping into the OR.

Excuses like being busy or lacking time are just that—excuses.

Chief physicians with true surgical flair usually stick to two or three surgeries a day. At their level, ordinary operations barely interest them anymore.

Only challenging or somewhat unfamiliar procedures are enough to spark their enthusiasm.

Zhou Can is still far from being on that lofty level, so he never turns down an opportunity. Any surgery he can handle, especially if it earns him experience, he’ll take.

He kept at it until just past six. That was when Dr. Fu Chachun, the evening shift doctor, came in to take over.

Zhou Can led his team and finished the final surgery.

Three years ago, Fu Chachun was already an attending physician.

Now, three years later, he’s 49. Honestly, most doctors who haven’t moved up to associate chief by this age usually stay as attendings until they retire.

He stood by, watching Zhou Can operate on the patient.

A look of surprise slowly crept onto his face, deepening with every passing moment, until he was downright stunned.

[Honestly, I’ve been using the Huanyuan app lately to read books and chase updates. Switching sources and listening to different voices—huanyuanapp, available on both Android and iPhone.]

“I never would’ve guessed—after just three years, Dr. Zhou’s surgical skills are this advanced! The next generation is truly formidable!”

Back then, Fu Chachun’s surgical abilities surpassed Zhou Can’s.

Three years later, to his shock, Zhou Can’s skills—in both anatomy and suturing—made this seasoned attending feel a bit ashamed.

Even a few years ago, Zhou Can already edged ahead of Fu Chachun when it came to hemostasis.

Now, Fu Chachun couldn’t even follow some of Zhou Can’s bleeding control moves.

The gap between them had grown too wide.

The surgery soon ended, and Zhou Can asked Luo Shishen to wheel the patient out.

“Dr. Zhou, with you back in the Emergency Department’s OR, it’s basically impossible for this place not to flourish now.” Fu Chachun couldn’t hide a hint of flattery as he spoke.

Imagine—a veteran attending physician speaking in such a deferential tone to a resident.

It’s not that he lacked pride, but Zhou Can’s current strength was simply something he had to look up to.

Skill is almost a direct measure of both potential and future status.

Fu Chachun no longer had any hope of promotion and would remain an attending his whole career. Zhou Can, however, with his skill and promise, was all but certain to become a chief physician.

And not just any chief, but likely a top-tier one.

Maybe Zhou Can would even achieve greater heights in medicine.

Can you really blame Fu Chachun for feeling humbled when talking to him? It’s like that innate sense of pressure—no matter how old an ant gets, it’s still just an ant. Even a baby elephant looks like a mountain from the ant’s point of view.

“Dr. Fu, I really have to treat you to dinner sometime!”

Zhou Can meant every word.

“Oh? Why’s that?”

A smile broke out on Fu Chachun’s face.

“You’ve praised me to the skies—if I don’t buy you a good meal, how could I live with myself?”

Zhou Can replied earnestly.

“Haha… Three years apart, and not only has your surgical skill shot up, but your wit has too! Name the time—your treat or mine, either way works for me.”

Fu Chachun laughed heartily.

Back in the day, he and Zhou Can were on decent terms, but not exactly close.

When Zhou Can was suspended, Fu grew distant, leaving Zhou with a less-than-great impression of him.

Now, though, Zhou Can wasn’t a novice trainee anymore—he was a star of Tuyu’s talent program. Fu Chachun’s senior status as an attending didn’t amount to much in comparison.

Meeting again after three years and getting along so well—it genuinely pleased Fu that Zhou Can hadn’t given him the cold shoulder.

“You’re generous, Dr. Fu! But it might have to wait—I’m in the OR almost every day, and after work I’m still on call to help out in Cardiothoracic Surgery. No time, really. Once things slow down, I promise I’ll invite you out to eat.”

Zhou Can wasn’t one for elaborate dinners, but sometimes, they were necessary.

They were both colleagues in the Emergency Department’s OR, and Fu was his senior. Nurturing that relationship with a meal just made sense.

……

Coming out of the OR, Zhou Can turned to Qiao Yu. “How many surgeries did we do today?”

“Looks like twenty-one total. Three were Level Three surgeries, seven were Level Two, and eleven were Level One.”

That’s a pretty impressive record.

“We’ll see how the department decides to tally the results later! There are still about twenty days before I get my trainee final exam scores. The hospital hasn’t signed a formal contract with me yet. You’re already a full-time nurse, so if they don’t include you in the surgery bonuses, I’ll have a word with Director Lou.”

Zhou himself didn’t mind too much.

Money wasn’t an issue—the docter’s salary meant little to him anyway.

Qiao Yu, on the other hand, was an ordinary person with a family to support.

She’d previously worked in intensive care and earned a bit more than most nurses. Now that Zhou Can had recruited her away, if the workload was higher and her pay dropped, it wouldn’t be fair.

Even if she didn’t mind because of Zhou Can,

It still wouldn’t be right by her.

How Director Lou and the department managers would actually handle this kind of pay issue was anyone’s guess.

Normally, everyone wants to keep more money for themselves.

“Don’t make a fuss with Director Lou over something so small, Zhou Can. Might not look good for you. It’s just one month—basic salary is fine for me. I’m happy just to join your surgical team. Besides, I know it’s much easier to join now than it will be later.”

She blurted out his name instead of ‘Dr. Zhou’ in her rush.

“I’ll keep that in mind! You really have an eye for teams, huh? From day one, you had a feeling I’d go far…” She must’ve suddenly realized her words sounded off and quickly stopped herself. “I’ve got to borrow some books from the library. See you!”

Zhou Can rubbed his nose. “Why’d the mood shift so suddenly?”

Thinking back on her words and the embarrassed look on her face, he started to get it.

No wonder she’d blackmailed him for milk tea that time; maybe she was just taking her shot.

Zhou Can sighed softly, hoping she’d find happiness soon and things between them would return to normal.

After all, for a woman to forget a man, all it takes is meeting someone new.

But for a man to forget a woman, it could take a lifetime.

That’s a classic line from a philosopher somewhere.

He and Qiao Yu had always kept things just ambiguous enough—if Zhou Can hadn’t started dating Su Qianqian, maybe he and Qiao Yu would’ve grown closer.

But sometimes, that’s just how fate works.

He still couldn’t clock out yet. Habit dictated he head to the office first to log the day’s surgeries.

He had to also update patient records and progress notes.

Then check to make sure all the surgical orders he’d written were accurate, with no mistakes. Double-checking your own work is the mark of a responsible doctor.

Midway through writing, Director Lou walked in.

“Xiao Zhou, Old Xu told me you did excellent work today! Keep it up—if you need anything, come to me anytime.”

Director Lou smiled from ear to ear.

He’d heard how well Zhou performed his first day back in the OR and was thrilled. For years, all he’d wanted was to build a top Emergency Department.

With Zhou back and his surgical skills through the roof, the department had gotten a huge boost.

At this rate, things could be transformed in just a few months.

Director Lou could practically see a whole new department on the horizon.

“Thank you, Director Lou!”

Zhou nodded and got back to his records.

Director Lou had walked over just to give him a boost. He left soon after.

By the time Zhou finished writing, it was already half past seven.

With so few doctors in Emergency, most of the office was already empty.

“Once I make attending, maybe I’ll finally get a couple of interns—and then writing up all these charts will no longer be my personal burden.”

He found himself envying the easy lives of senior doctors.

Interns and trainees were basically resources for senior doctors. Management was even shrewder, putting strict evaluation systems in place. If an attending or chief wasn’t working hard enough, the first thing they’d do was reassign their interns and trainees.

Make a mistake, lose an intern.

Repeat until they’re all gone.

So while chief physicians might seem cold and aloof, the truth was, they cared deeply for their interns. They were just too busy, so most of the time, juniors like attendings or residents had to take charge of training.

Trainees depended. The average ones would also go to lower-ranked doctors. Only those with real talent and potential would get directly mentored by the chiefs.

In short, they were the ones being groomed.

It’s a sign of intense competition. Many interns think it’s okay to slack off since it’s just training, but that’s a huge mistake.

Lose your early advantage, and you’ll always trail behind the ambitious, hardworking medical students. The gap just gets bigger.

Once everything was done, the cafeteria was already closed.

But really, Zhou Can hadn’t planned to eat there anyway. Back home, his girlfriend would be waiting with a hot meal.

After the passing of Director Hu from Cardiothoracic Surgery, the hospital must’ve tried to keep the news under wraps.

At least Zhou Can hadn’t heard anyone discussing it.

Even in the lunchroom or department group chats, nobody had said a word about it.

Of course, secrets don’t last long, and since it all happened today, word just hadn’t spread yet. Even if Tuyu Hospital could contain the rumors, it wouldn’t last.

Rival hospitals were sure to make use of the news as soon as they got wind of it.

They’d definitely find ways to spread news of Director Hu’s death.

When that happened, Cardiothoracic Surgery would face an unprecedented crisis.

Their only hope would be to quickly prop up a new leading figure.

But that’s easier said than done.

Right now, the department had no one capable of filling that role. Plenty of solid mid-level staff, but no one to truly lead.

Zhou Can could see the danger ahead, and a sense of unease set in.

If Director Hu had hung on for another couple of years, Zhou would’ve had time to master several specialties at the chief level and handle the fallout with confidence.

As it was, everything felt rushed.

All anyone could do was take it one step at a time.

The hospital’s leadership surely saw it coming as well. Director Hu’s health had been poor for ages—no way the leadership, headed by Director Zhu, hadn’t prepared.

Director Zhu, with his far-sighted vision and tough methods, was nothing if not effective.

He was the definition of diligent and reform-minded.

Just look at the way Tuyu had raced forward in recent years.

Today, Zhou Can hadn’t visited Cardiothoracic Surgery.

Normally, he’d go straight there after work.

Director Hu used to set aside two or three surgeries tailored for him, coaching him through each operation, diagnosis, and treatment.

Heading down to the parking garage, Zhou Can climbed into his Mercedes.

He took out his phone and sent a voice message to Director Xueyan.

“Sister Yan, feeling any better? How’s the Cardiothoracic team holding up?”

Director Xueyan, being a woman, had always gotten a lot of guidance from Director Hu. His sudden passing hit her harder than anyone.

Women often feel things more deeply, and her grief was all the stronger for it.

“Thanks for your concern. I’m feeling a bit better. The department is stable for now.”

She replied by text.

Her voice was probably hoarse by now.

“That’s good to hear. Get some rest and try not to overthink it. Things have a way of working out. I believe Cardiothoracic Surgery will make it through this.”

Zhou sent her a text back.

It was a matter of respect.

By seniority, Director Xueyan was ahead of Zhou Can, though they weren’t in the same department, so she technically wasn’t his superior.

“Mm, thanks!”

She clearly wasn’t up for talking much.

Only because their relationship was close did she reply at all.

……

Driving home, Zhou Can received a call.

He switched on his car’s Bluetooth and answered.

“Who’s calling?”

“Dr. Zhou, this is Mu Qing from the TV station—forgot me already?”

Her voice was as charming as ever.

It’s hard to explain, but to any man without much self-control, that sultry tone could make you weak in the knees.

“No way! Remember when Hu Haikun got caught? I tipped you off immediately so you could be the first to report it, didn’t I?” Zhou Can had kept his promise to give Mu Qing a big scoop.

That more than settled his debt to her.

“Hehe, I sure remember! I know you treat me well! So, how about sharing the next big story too?”

She switched into a coy, playful tone.

“Auntie, please! All day I’m busy saving lives in the OR—where would I even get any inside news? Just spare me, okay?”

Zhou Can was no fool.

At a time like this, the fact that she called almost certainly meant she’d heard about Director Hu’s death.

Journalists are always digging for hot news.

The bigger the exclusive, the more social impact and the higher their status at the TV station.

Everyone works hard for their own career.

“I heard your hospital’s Cardiothoracic director, Dr. Hu Kan, just passed away. Is that true?” She came right out and asked.

Just as expected.