Chapter 513: Striking a Balance: Doctor, Patient and Reputation

Zhou Can always treated his patients and their families with warmth, but he never got too close.

He’d learned his lesson the hard way, more than once.

Some patients acted friendly on the surface, yet secretly recorded audio—or even had someone taking covert videos nearby. Others would try to befriend him, and the moment he responded, they’d bombard him with unreasonable demands.

Over time, Zhou Can developed his own method for interacting with patients and families.

Too close wasn’t good; too distant didn’t work either.

This balance—polite but not too warm or cold—was just right.

He didn’t do rounds for every single patient, only the ones needing extra attention. His time was limited, after all.

All the inpatients here had medical staff checking on them daily anyway.

The three-level responsibility system was strictly enforced at Tuyu Hospital.

When Zhou Can reached Room 4011, he paused in surprise.

Lying in the first bed by the door was a middle-aged man he recognized.

“Oh, Mr. Chen, you’ve already transferred out of the ICU today!”

The patient was none other than Chen Zhongzhi, whose surgery Zhou Can had performed himself.

Five days had passed and to his surprise, Chen Zhongzhi had moved from intensive care to a regular ward. That meant his recovery was going well and he now met the safety criteria for a standard room.

“Haha, that’s all thanks to your skills! All my test results are looking great. And would you believe my surgical wound has nearly healed after just five days?”

As he spoke, Chen Zhongzhi even lifted his shirt, peeling back the gauze so Zhou Can could check the incision.

“Recovery’s going very well. But you still have to be careful—don’t strain yourself. For aesthetics, we used absorbable cosmetic sutures, so you won’t need to have any stitches removed.”

After examining the surgical wound, Zhou Can wasn’t surprised by how well it looked.

Ever since his suturing, incision and debridement skills had reached level six, any surgery he performed generally saw wounds start healing within three to four days.

Older patients or those with weaker constitutions took a little longer.

They might need about four or five days to see initial healing.

Healthy young and middle-aged adults healed in about three days. For kids, it could be as quick as two days with obvious improvement.

There was no denying it: a surgeon’s skill made a huge difference.

The better the surgeon, the faster the healing and the lower the chance of infection. A mediocre doctor’s stitches looked ragged, like a dog had chewed the wound—healing was slow and infection, itchiness and swelling were common.

“Zhongzhi, is this the Dr. Zhou you’ve been talking about?”

Sitting by the bed was a dignified woman around fifty, dressed in a black suit and white shirt, wavy hair, a gold-framed pair of glasses perched on her nose. She came across as very stern.

Zhou Can immediately sensed her commanding presence.

That kind of aura was hard to describe in words.

He’d only felt it before around government officials or hospital directors.

That was the subtle weight of authority.

When he entered, Zhou Can’s focus had been on Chen Zhongzhi and he hadn’t even noticed her.

“That’s right, this is Dr. Zhou.”

Chen Zhongzhi introduced him to the woman.

“This is my mother. She made a special trip today to see how I’m doing.”

She stood up and reached out to shake Zhou Can’s hand.

“Dr. Zhou, thank you for saving my son. If anything had happened to him that night, I would have…” Her voice broke and she couldn’t go on.

“I was just doing my job. That night was truly dangerous—several doctors and nurses from Cardiothoracic Surgery put in a huge effort to stabilize him. But now it’s all in the past. Since the aortic dissection was repaired with a vascular stent, there shouldn’t be any more danger.”

All Zhou Can could do was try to comfort the family.

He figured that night, the patient had called his mom over to sign the forms.

Then they had an argument, and in a fit of anger, the patient smashed his phone. Worse yet, the stress sent his blood pressure soaring, which led to the aortic dissection rupturing. Luckily, the tear wasn’t too severe.

If not, he might not have survived.

“Thank you all for saving my son’s life. Thank you for designing a whole new surgical plan just for him. I’m Yang Wei, and to be honest, I haven’t been a very good mother. I didn’t care about Zhongzhi enough. But this brush with death taught me a lot about life, and made me truly cherish the bond between mother and son. Without you, maybe I’d have spent a lifetime in pain and regret.”

Gratitude shone in Yang Wei’s eyes. It was clear she’d remember Zhou Can’s help forever.

“Just as you said, the worst is behind us now. I believe every day from here on will be filled with happiness. If you ever come to Magic City, Dr. Zhou, please let me show you my thanks—come be my guest at home.”

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She expressed her gratitude in a more reserved way.

Some families and patients, grateful for Zhou Can’s help, would ask for his phone number or even add him on WeChat.

They’d tell him what they did for a living and say he could contact them if he ever needed anything.

But Chen Zhongzhi’s mother was much more discreet—she only suggested Zhou Can come visit their home if he ever had the chance.

“Absolutely. Next time I’m in Magic City, I’ll make sure to visit your home!”

Zhou Can nodded and agreed.

He didn’t think much of it, treating the invitation as simple politeness.

He received these sorts of invitations all the time. Most people just wanted to take him out for a meal. Usually, he politely declined.

If he absolutely couldn’t refuse and the host insisted, he’d go along.

Meals like that usually led to a closer relationship, occasionally turning them into acquaintances.

You could even call them “friends.”

But for Zhou Can, these kinds of “friends” didn’t matter much. Only people like Mr. Cui and Mr. Li, or their families, counted as true friends.

In those cases, he’d reach out for help whenever he needed it.

Normal social connections like this, Zhou Can just chalked up as good karma.

“Here’s my address and contact info. If it’s convenient, Dr. Zhou, could you give me your number too? That way, I can save your information.”

She took a notepad from her bag, wrote down her address, phone number and name, and handed it to Zhou Can.

By now, Zhou Can could feel the sincerity in Yang Wei’s gesture.

He took the slip with both hands and tucked it into his pocket.

Then he left her his private phone number.

Frankly, it took a lot for someone of her rank to hand out her home address and invite him over. That was real sincerity.

Most people with any official standing never shared their home address so easily.

Why not?

Because too many people hound them for favors.

Giving out their home address was an open invitation for people to show up with gifts.

Even corrupt officials worth their salt wouldn’t let people openly bring gifts to their homes. That would be career suicide.

So Yang Wei’s willingness to write down her address for Zhou Can was a sign that she truly wanted to build a deeper connection.

Maybe they’d stay in touch from now on.

“Come on, let me give you a quick check-up.”

Zhou Can gave Chen Zhongzhi a thorough check, listening to his chest, feeling his pulse, checking the strength in his legs and so on. The results were excellent—the patient was in great shape.

Now it was just a matter of waiting for full recovery and discharge, then home for rest.

Even after he left, Yang Wei was still warm and gracious towards him. She didn’t act like she was above anyone.

That left Zhou Can with a very favorable impression of her.

But Chen Zhongzhi’s family seemed unusual. He took his mother’s surname and his parents didn’t seem to get along. Normally, for such a major surgery, both parents would come together, no matter how busy they were.

Yet his parents insisted on visiting separately.

Zhou Can never involved himself in others’ family affairs.

Once he finished rounds, there was still a pile of difficult cases and surgery plans waiting for his consultation.

Now that his pathology diagnosis had advanced to level six, solving tricky cases felt noticeably easier.

Some tough cases stumped even joint consultations involving Director Xueyan.

But Zhou Can could quickly work out the underlying pathology after just one review.

He’d pinpoint the source of illness in the end.

Yet it was the first time he felt the old saying ‘it’s cold at the top’ really applied. Technically, his progress in pathology diagnosis was a great thing.

But during diagnosis, he kept running into holes in his medical knowledge.

Even in his own field of expertise, cardiothoracic surgery, there were so many subfields where he felt his knowledge fell short.

For example, he used to think there were few heart surgeries he couldn’t handle.

But recently, he’d found that terms like mitral valve, tricuspid valve, septal muscle cords and neural signals all had much more complexity than he realized. There were just too many areas he didn’t fully understand.

He’d done plenty of tricuspid valve surgeries, so he knew the main principles.

But even so, just the day before, he’d realized his patient’s tricuspid regurgitation was only a symptom. The real reason was something deeper. While he could fix it surgically, he still couldn’t uncover the root cause.

Basically, he could cure the issue through surgery but never fully explain why the patient got sick in the first place.

All he knew was the tricuspid valve wouldn’t close right—he couldn’t determine exactly why.

Not even after thorough workups.

He’d felt this strange sense more than once lately.

And it was only happening more often.

Back when his pathology skills were level five, his confidence was rock-solid—he felt unbeatable, with no case too difficult.

Now he often felt lost, like a brand new student who didn’t know where to start.

The sea of medical knowledge was just far too vast.

He realized he could spend a lifetime and still never learn it all. With that came a new respect—he felt about medicine the way he felt about life.

If he borrowed a metaphor from Buddhism, he was probably at the stage ‘the mountain is no longer a mountain, and the water is no longer water.’

His level in pathology diagnosis now was all about chasing the core origins of disease.

This was definitely a good sign—it meant real progress.

But it also brought plenty of frustration and dented his self-confidence.

Maybe someday he could ask Dr. Xu if they’d ever felt the same way.

……

Cardiothoracic Surgery at Tuyu Hospital had soared, its performance already surpassing Dr. Hu Kan’s best days.

Now it stood as a true landmark for Tuyu—not just a golden reputation.

After Zhou Can’s breakthrough surgery for Chen Zhongzhi, and with Director Xueyan’s guidance, he started writing a paper in this field. The hospital was quick to help with his publicity, too.

The results from his graduate entrance exam hadn’t come out yet. He’d have to wait until late February, maybe even March.

As long as he passed the first round, he was basically in.

The next stage—the interview—was easier by comparison.

Normally, about one and a half people made it through for every admission slot. In some places, the rate could be even better: two out of three would be accepted.

In other words, two out of every three interviewees got in.

The interview process itself was practically a formality for Zhou Can.

If the hospital thought he might not clear it, they could recommend him for an exemption. That was like giving him a guaranteed spot, but the process would be more involved.

With Zhou Can’s growing reputation, more outside doctors sought his advice.

This caused him a lot of headache.

Time was already scarce. Some of the visiting surgeons truly wanted to pick his brain or discuss medicine. Others? They were just looking to ride his coattails for fame.

Some would hang around for a couple of days, barely exchange ten words, then go home and boast about ‘deep exchanges with top cardiothoracic surgeon Dr. Zhou Can from Tuyu Hospital.’

This would get plopped onto their resumes and heavily advertised.

Plenty of patients who didn’t know better actually believed their hype and chose those doctors for treatment.

If the treatment worked, fine.

If it didn’t, all the blame landed on Zhou Can. His reputation suffered.

After catching two incidents like this, Zhou Can was much more cautious with other doctors. The hospital’s legal team also pitched in to help protect his rights.

One day, as usual, Zhou Can headed to his shift in the Emergency Department.

Just as rounds were about to wrap up, his phone rang.

He’d been getting so many calls lately that sometimes he just ignored them.

Especially the ones from unfamiliar numbers.

He checked his phone and his expression changed a bit. It was Deputy Director Lu from Cardiothoracic Surgery—someone he used to work with.

Back then, that man had worked under Director Xueyan. He was her right-hand man.

Later, he’d been poached by the Third Hospital for a much higher salary.

Rumor had it the Third Hospital offered him a package way above even what Associate Director He had gotten to leave. The invitation came right from Vice Director Zhang of the Third Hospital.

That incident had really angered Associate Director He. After that, he refused to ever deal with the Third Hospital again.

“Hello, Director Lu!”

Zhou Can picked up.

Honestly, he had little respect for traitors who left Tuyu Hospital.

These people had betrayed their old hospital, joining with the Third Hospital in an all-out attack on Tuyu’s Cardiothoracic Surgery department. There was no professionalism in that.

“A true gentleman earns his wealth the right way.”

Of course they wanted to make more money and give their families a better life—there was nothing wrong with that.

But turning your back on your old employer and stabbing them in the back? That was just low, no better than a backstabber.

Zhou Can wondered why Deputy Director Lu was suddenly calling him now.