Chapter 459: A Life on the Line: The Surgeon’s Sixth Sense

He already had a great relationship with Director Zhang Bihua from Obstetrics, so if anything went wrong during surgery he could ask for help right away.

And honestly, he had his own reasons, too.

Tackling surgeries he’d never done before meant gaining surgical experience even faster.

Now that his suturing had reached chief physician level, he’d tasted real success and longed even more for level six skills. Just getting suturing to six wasn’t enough. His other medical skills had to keep up.

What he really wanted to know was—once a skill hit level six, was that the peak?

If there was more room to grow, what would that look like?

While he finished arranging things with the operating room and the Anesthesiology Department, the female patient’s ultrasound results came out ahead of everything else.

The scan clearly showed a pregnancy sac, about the size of a walnut, right in the mid-section of the fallopian tube, tucked close to the cervical opening.

“So it really is an ectopic pregnancy!”

After reading the ultrasound, Zhou Can was even more confident in his diagnosis.

Under normal circumstances, the pregnancy sac should take root in the uterus, like a seed. When it implants somewhere else, that’s an ectopic pregnancy.

In this case, it had settled in the fallopian tube—a space that’s incredibly narrow.

As the sac keeps growing, it gets bigger and bigger, stretching the tube until it bursts. During this, the patient usually feels abdominal pain. If the bleeding’s severe, she’ll soon see blood from below.

Sometimes when the patient urinates, she might even pass dark blood clots.

Bleeding from an ectopic pregnancy can be deadly. Surgery’s the only option.

By now the anesthesiologist had rushed in. After a quick talk with Zhou Can, she went straight into assessing the patient’s anesthesia risks.

Meanwhile, Zhou Can went to talk to the family.

Though really, there wasn’t much point. After seeing the ultrasound, the patient looked terrible—paper-pale, eyes dull and distant, her whole body shaking uncontrollably.

“Doctor, what’s wrong with my daughter? Please, save her!”

The family’s tone was frantic, and more than a little harsh.

“Please prepare yourself. Your daughter has an ectopic pregnancy. Her fallopian tube’s ruptured and she’s bleeding badly. We need emergency surgery to save her. Once anesthesia is ready, she’ll go to the OR right away. Any more delay and her life’s at risk. Honestly, her condition right now is already very serious…”

He’d barely finished saying the words ‘ectopic pregnancy’ before doubt was written all over their face.

“My daughter’s still a student. She’s never even had a boyfriend—how could she be pregnant? You must be mistaken. Get someone older to look at her, someone with more experience.”

They didn’t trust Zhou Can, thinking he was too young and must have misdiagnosed her.

“Here’s the ultrasound. The results are clear. And—your daughter started dating someone over two months ago and was too scared to tell you. She gave me this letter to pass to you. She was afraid she’d never get the chance to speak to you again.”

Zhou Can handed the letter to the family.

As the patient’s mother took it, her body swayed before she collapsed right there on the floor.

“Ma’am? Ma’am, are you alright?”

Zhou Can hurried over to check on her.

If something happened to both mother and daughter at once, that would be a real disaster.

He still needed the mother’s signature for the operation, too.

“Ah… uuu…”

The woman broke down in tears, sobbing uncontrollably.

“It’s all my fault. I ruined my daughter’s life! That Shì guy—the motorcycle driver—is a monster, a liar…”

Just then, the bloodwork arrived.

The girl’s hemoglobin was only 65. Normally, women should be at least at 110.

Based on this, Zhou Can estimated she’d likely lost over 1,500 milliliters of blood. That was dangerously high.

He stayed calm, grabbed the surgery consent form, filled in the girl’s information, and handed it to the family to sign.

By now, the mother looked completely hollow, like the walking dead.

Zhou Can pointed out where to sign and she signed there—she couldn’t even process the words on the consent form herself. There just wasn’t time to explain every clause.

Soon, the girl was moved into the OR—fluids started, blood transfusion, anesthesia, emergency surgery.

Zhou Can took the lead, with Dr. Xu guiding him from the side.

Layer by layer, they opened her abdomen and quickly found the bleeding. The once narrow fallopian tube had ruptured completely.

With it went the artery—a full break.

Her uterus was filled with blood. By rough count, she’d lost over 2,000 milliliters.

If they’d waited any longer, she probably wouldn’t have made it.

With steady, swift hands, he removed the pregnancy sac, cleaned the area, repaired the tube, and hooked up the torn artery…

Amazingly, the whole rescue went smoothly. Maybe it was because his surgical skills had grown so much. Every step came naturally, nothing felt especially difficult.

Once the surgery was over, he let out a deep breath.

At last, he’d saved her.

And this operation earned him 101 experience for Debridement Technique, 11 for Incision, and a whopping 1,013 for Hemostasis…

The biggest gain was definitely Hemostasis experience.

That skill had already reached the peak of level five, just a step from leveling up.

With all the new experience, as expected, it soared from five to six—his second chief-physician-level medical skill.

[Hemostasis, Level Six, Current XP: 1/. At introductory chief physician ability.]

He focused on the difference that chief-level Hemostasis gave him.

Before, at level five, he could reliably tell if a patient’s bleeding had stopped, and judge probable bleeding points by symptoms—skin color, GI bleeds, bloody vomit, and so on.

That’s how he’d instantly recognized the woman’s massive blood loss in this case—thanks to level five Hemostasis.

Now, with Hemostasis at six, the changes were obvious. First, as he worked to stem bleeding, his mind presented different techniques, letting him instantly choose the best way—sometimes combining several at once.

That ability went beyond what level five allowed; this was an evolutionary leap.

Before, he’d have to ponder and analyze every scenario, only choosing the right method after careful deliberation.

Now, it came automatically. The choice was natural—skills honed by repetition had become habit.

It was as easy as drinking or eating. After thousands of drills, all the techniques were his.

What started as skill had become instinct.

Second, after anastomosing blood vessels, he used to have to remove hemostats or untie ligatures, run a perfusion, and only then see if blood flow was good or there was a leak.

Checking for a clot meant relying on imaging, angiography, or ultrasounds.

Now after connecting vessels, a just a glance let him judge if the connection was clear, if the vessel was too narrow, even the hidden risk of clots.

Third, by observing the color, viscosity, clarity, and speed of bleeding, he could now judge the health status of a patient’s blood.

It wasn’t as precise as a lab instrument, but he could nail the important indicators with impressive accuracy.

This was all-new—a skill he’d never possessed before.

Not just could he pinpoint precisely where bleeding was happening, he could immediately assess severity, too.

So, for this particular woman, if he re-examined her, he’d immediately know her bleeding rate—assuming he checked her lower body for signs of blood.

But for most female patients, there’s no way they’d let a male doctor check their private areas unless they were unconscious.

So in most situations, he’d have to ask about symptoms rather than see for himself.

Feeling the advantages of level six Hemostasis, Zhou Can was fired up.

His capacity for stopping bleeding had taken a quantum leap, but that wasn’t all. He’d also discovered a subtle connection between his Hemostasis and Suturing at level six.

It was like an invisible thread now linked the two skills together.

Just like complex surgeries today rely on teamwork between different departments, his advanced Hemostasis and Suturing now worked together like two expert crews, strengthening each other.

While closing wounds, he could use his Hemostasis sense to choose the best suture method, even knowing if subtle bleeding remained beneath the surface or if the blood supply to the wound was healthy.

And when stemming bleeding, he drew benefits from his Suturing skill in return.

The synergy between the two was a well-earned surprise from mastering a second skill at level six.

None of his other skills at level five had ever given him anything like this.

He wondered—if all his skills reached level six one day, what would happen then?

If everything worked together, could he become a god of life itself?

At the very least, he’d stand at the very top of the medical profession.

No one could master every medical skill at this level in one lifetime—time, energy, and raw talent just didn’t allow it. Usually, getting even two or three surgical skills to level six let someone dominate the OR.

Pathology diagnosis and pharmacology were even harder to master.

If you could upgrade just one of those to level six, you’d become a renowned expert at any major hospital.

With the female patient sent out of surgery, Zhou Can stayed behind.

Qiao Yu and Ma Xiaolan quickly cleaned up and prepped for the next case.

He kept working right up until the day was done. Other than grabbing lunch and bathroom breaks, he spent the whole day in the OR saving lives. That kind of dedication was why the Emergency Department’s revenue was so high.

It all came from Zhou Can, the core of the team, who kept things running, handled a mountain of surgical cases, built up the department’s reputation, and earned recognition from both patients and their families.

When the shift finally ended, he left the OR completely exhausted.

One day of operations—it really did take it out of him.

“Dr. Zhou, may I trouble you for a few minutes?”

A middle-aged man had apparently been sitting outside the OR for quite awhile. With a calm but shrewd look and a pleasant smile, he was hard to ignore.

“What can I help you with?”

Zhou Can guessed he was probably a family member.

“Here’s my card! Could we chat somewhere private?”

The man didn’t say what he was here for and just handed Zhou Can a business card.

Zhou Can read the card: Zhang Mingxing, Deputy Director of Business, Third Hospital.

He couldn’t believe someone actually had that name.

What rattled him most was the man’s identity—someone from the Third Hospital and a vice director, no less.

It was quite an honor to have a deputy director personally come and wait outside the OR for him.

He could almost guess the man’s motive with his eyes closed.

Back when Xinxiang Hospital tried to recruit him, it was much the same. Their Director Tian talked with him a lot but Zhou Can turned the offer down.

The longer he worked at Tuyu Hospital, the more he thought of it as home.

It had familiar faces, a stage where he could shine, and the learning and work environment he loved.

He was growing every day at Tuyu.

The hospital leaders looked after him—maybe it was part of a great talent development system.

He wasn’t the only one getting chances. Other outstanding young doctors and nurses were nurtured with plenty of opportunities, too.

From one-on-one teaching to clinical practice, ongoing training to academic research, Tuyu Hospital’s systems were solid and healthy.

Any institution could have issues in places like Security or General Affairs. That’s universal.

With thousands or even tens of thousands of staff, you couldn’t expect everyone to live above temptation. Most folks have families to feed and want to climb the ranks to prove their worth.

Give people enough power and it’s only natural that a few might try to make some extra cash on the side.

As long as they don’t cross the line, that’s just what society’s like these days.

Whether it’s hospital management or government departments, most just turn a blind eye.

If you really enforced every rule, all the talented ones would just quit, and those who stayed probably wouldn’t be honest anyway.

If easy money’s right there and there’s nothing really immoral about it, why not take it?

On the other hand, if someone goes too far and does something truly illegal, they’re just asking for trouble.

Take Chief Mi from Security, who was living easy—until he made the mistake of targeting the clinical departments, demanding things shamelessly and taking revenge. Sooner or later, trouble was inevitable.

Even if Zhou Can hadn’t gotten him in trouble, someone else would have.

The saying ‘what goes around comes around’ is no empty threat.

With the deputy director’s intentions clear, Zhou Can quickly made up his mind.

“Director Zhang, if you have something to say, you can say it right here. But if I already wouldn’t agree to your proposal, it’s probably better not to say it at all.”

He’d already turned him down—politely but firmly.

He was sure Director Zhang would understand exactly what he meant.