Chapter 638: A Final Lesson Before the Storm

“Excellent! Wonderfully said! Looks like Director Zhu and the others really picked the right person. For years, the Pharmaceutical Division has been plagued by endless infighting and corruption. Most of our research and resources have gone to flashy, empty projects. No wonder the medicines we’ve released look impressive but deliver mediocre results. Everyone in the R&D center has been waiting for someone truly wise to take charge. Now, it feels like that day has finally come.”

Mr. Ye looked visibly energized after hearing Zhou Can’s words.

Still, it was clear he had his doubts about what kind of person Zhou Can really was.

But that was only natural.

After all, Zhou Can had only taken over the Pharmaceutical Division a couple of days ago. Even though he’d already made a big splash, no one knew yet if he could truly steer the division in a new direction.

No matter what, Zhou Can’s vision gave Mr. Ye hope.

At least it was a glimmer to hold onto.

……

In the blink of an eye, more than half a month had passed. Once Zhou Can fully took charge of the Pharmaceutical Division, the whole department underwent a complete transformation.

He quickly set several key development goals for the division.

The first was developing preventative medicines.

Lots of people treat preventative medicine like health supplements, but that’s a mistake.

As the saying goes: the best doctor treats illness before it happens.

Nipping disease in the bud is always the most effective way to heal.

Why do herbal detox teas sell so well?

Why are they so popular on the market?

Because at their core, they’re actually preventative medicines.

In Japan, a whole range of herbal decoctions now has a stable market. Their R&D, ingredient cultivation, processing, and sales have formed a complete industry chain.

That, without question, pointed Zhou Can in the right direction.

For Han Hun Pharmaceuticals to turn losses into profits, step one was rooting out all the freeloaders and parasites inside. That was the only way to stop the bleeding and cut internal waste.

Step two was even more critical: they had to launch medicines the market would actually accept and drive strong sales.

If they could pull that off, Han Hun would finally be standing on solid ground.

“First survive, then seek to thrive.” That was the strategy Zhou Can used to save the Cardiothoracic Surgery Department from collapse all those years ago.

Zhou Can might look unpredictable, but at his core, he’s solid and steady.

He likes to take one step at a time, keeping his feet firmly on the ground.

So far, he’s outlined two main strategies for the R&D center: focus on preventative medicines and on practical clinical treatments.

Do everything possible to play to their strengths and avoid going toe-to-toe with mature Western medicinals in established markets.

For example, when it comes to the common cold, Western medicines are cheap, fast-acting, and come in endless varieties.

Trying to compete in that space is just fighting a hopeless battle.

You could pour in endless amounts of money and get nowhere.

But areas like bone fracture healing, dispelling surface illnesses, nodules and early tumors, or treating kidney disease and kidney failure—those are fields where Western medicine, with only two hundred years of history, hasn’t yet found real solutions.

Take bone fractures. Western doctors fixate on surgery and internal fixation, maybe prescribe some calcium, control infection, and just wait for the bone to mend itself.

But traditional Chinese medicine has all kinds of bone-healing recipes that stimulate bone growth and speed up healing.

Imagine a day when, instead of surgery, you simply realign the bone externally and use medicine internally and externally to heal the break. Who would still want a row of steel pins drilled into their bones?

And then there are breast or thyroid nodules—the two areas most prone to such growths.

Western medicine relies on imaging to assess if they’re dangerous. If not, you just keep watching. If they are, or might become malignant, straight to surgery.

No question, that approach isn’t kind to young women.

Even with the most skilled surgeons, removing a benign breast nodule almost always leaves a scar.

Women can end up feeling self-conscious, even rejected by their husbands or boyfriends.

But if a traditional medicine to dissolve nodules could make them disappear or restore healthy tissue, that would be a real blessing for patients.

A major hospital in the capital is already ahead of the curve in this area.

Their research into herbal medicine for breast hyperplasia has already helped countless patients.

Once Zhou Can set the division’s direction, he left it to his team to execute. He only carved out a little time each day to check in on overall progress.

One day, as usual, he headed to the Emergency Department. Not long after finishing his rounds, he received a call from Director Zhu himself.

“Zhou, come to my office.”

“Yes, sir—I’ll be there as soon as I’ve finished.”

Zhou Can had no idea what Director Zhu wanted to see him about.

Work had been especially busy lately. Ever since Qiao Yu left for overseas, he’d struggled to find a new surgical nurse he could truly rely on.

It wasn’t that his standards were too high; it’s just that a chief surgeon and their instrument nurse need to develop real teamwork.

He was doing major surgeries every day, and swapping in a nurse who didn’t mesh well could seriously slow things down.

Sometimes it even put him in a bad mood.

The surgical nurses they’d found so far were all outstanding—real standouts in their field.

But when it came to working with Zhou Can, something always felt a bit off.

Director Lou and Dr. Xu had been racking their brains trying to help him with this.

Because it affected the department’s entire surgical workload.

After finishing his rounds, Zhou Can quickly made his way to Director Zhu’s office.

As always, Hospital Assistant Qin was there at his desk, working away. With leadership about to change hands in the hospital, Qin was under a lot of pressure.

“Director Zhou! The Director is waiting for you inside.”

Unusually, Assistant Qin stood up and greeted Zhou Can with a smile.

Normally, as a senior leader and the true head of Quality Control, Qin was Zhou Can’s boss. At most, he’d just nod or politely exchange a few words.

Usually, it was Zhou Can who initiated the greetings.

So today’s welcome was a little strange.

Zhou Can found it odd—something big must be brewing at the hospital.

It felt like a storm was brewing, the air thick with anticipation.

Mid-level and senior staff had been quietly maneuvering, all preparing for the arrival of the new hospital director.

A new leader brings a new team.

With new leadership, there would be some major personnel changes.

Anyone who seized the moment might take their career to the next level.

Miss the chance, and you could end up stuck—or out in the cold.

After a quick chat with Assistant Qin, Zhou Can headed into the director’s private office.

Inside, he found Director Zhu practicing calligraphy.

Sheets of rice paper lay scattered on the floor and the desk, each marked with the character for ‘nine.’

‘Nine’ is the formal way to write the number 9 in Chinese.

Why was Director Zhu writing ‘nine’ over and over?

Was he reluctant to step down?

It’s true—power and position are hard to let go, but when it’s time, you have to move on.

This wasn’t something Director Zhu could control.

“I never realized your calligraphy skills were so refined! Your characters are precise and balanced, but there’s a hint of sharpness beneath the surface. It all feels confident but composed.”

Zhou Can picked up the stray sheets from the floor.

“Ha! You figured it out? My old mentor told me, ‘Be smooth when dealing with people, but have a core of integrity when making decisions.’ He said that an ordinary leader can try to be agreeable, but the top leader needs to be firm when it counts. I’ve got one week left before retirement, so I’ll pass those words on to you.”

Director Zhu’s words carried deeper meaning.

Was he hinting that he wanted Zhou Can to become the next hospital director?

Did he mean Zhou Can should aim for the top job someday?

“Thank you, Director. I’ll remember your advice.”

Zhou Can dared not say any more.

When the director gives you advice, you accept it gratefully.

And you make sure to show genuine respect.

“You’re getting married the day after tomorrow, right?”

“Yes! Please don’t forget you promised to officiate for Su Qianqian and me.”

He’d sent an invitation to Director Zhu long ago, asking him to preside over the ceremony.

“The day after tomorrow is Sunday—a perfect date. I’ll be there on time to officiate and give you my heartfelt blessings.”

Director Zhu agreed with a smile.

Zhou Can’s invitation made him quite happy.

It showed just how much Zhou Can respected him.

Otherwise, why invite a retiring director who’s on his way out?

“Take a seat.”

Director Zhu set down his brush, still looking fondly at the last ‘nine’ he’d written.

“Calligraphy is a lot like life—every time I finish a character, I think I could do it better. There’s always some flaw, something to improve. The biggest danger in life is getting too satisfied with yourself.”

He shared another piece of wisdom with Zhou Can.

“You’re outstanding in every way—whether it’s your medical expertise or your management skills. I’ve met very few people with your talent. But because you’re so good, remember: ‘Heaven is jealous of the gifted.’ Sometimes, leaving a little room for imperfection isn’t a bad thing. There’s no need to chase absolute perfection in everything.”

As they say: A person’s last words are always honest.

Just as birds sing quietly before they die.

This was probably the last talk Director Zhu would have with Zhou Can before retiring.

It felt like a final, parting message.

Zhou Can listened intently and nodded, making sure to show he understood.

“Selling you the Pharmaceutical Division settled the last worry I had on the job. I knew for years there were major issues there, but I couldn’t touch it. One change risked unraveling the whole hospital. I needed stability. Tuyu Hospital—step by step, working hard—finally got to where it is today. If one flawed division ruined our reputation or caused mass upheaval, it would’ve been a disaster.”

“Now that you own it, with private ownership, you can act decisively. Honestly, I thought it would take you five to ten years to really turn it around. I never expected you to pull it off in just a few days. That truly impressed both me and the higher-ups.”

Director Zhu spoke warmly about the Pharmaceutical Division handover.

As director, he was well aware of the problems within the division.

It was like the Security Department a few years back—bloated and uncontrollable—even the director’s authority couldn’t fix it.

Truth is, everyone looks out for their own interests.

Director Zhu back then just wanted stability and hoped that with a good record, he could move up the ladder.

Any remaining problems would be left for his successor to deal with.

But fate had other plans. When Zhou Can spoke up, it sparked a massive protest.

That single event put an end to Director Zhu’s rise.

Whether he ever blamed Zhou Can—no one could say.

At least, on the surface, things between them had remained cordial so far.

“Honestly, I was just lucky.”

Zhou Can downplayed his achievement.

Inside, he did grumble a little—knowing there were serious problems, and still selling it to me?

Fine, but the least he could have done was warn me!

If Zhou Can hadn’t had the skills to spot the issues quickly, he’d still be at the mercy of those freeloaders.

“I can tell from your face you’re not thrilled. Mad at me for selling you a broken department?”

Director Zhu smiled at him.

“I wouldn’t dare!”

Zhou Can said the right thing, but inside he was being perfectly honest.

He didn’t expect Director Zhu to read his expression so easily.

If you want to deal with major figures, you need to learn to hide your true feelings.

Which is a lot easier said than done.

“Heh—you clearly don’t mean what you say. Back when you led the Emergency Department in protest, you ruined my chance of promotion, and I never held it against you. So don’t sweat something minor like this.”

With retirement looming, Director Zhu sounded a lot more relaxed and friendly than before.

He seemed warmer and more approachable.

“Selling you the Pharmaceutical Division wasn’t just unloading a problem—it was a bargain for you. There’s a saying: ‘If it’s cheap, it isn’t good.’ When you bought it, you should’ve expected a catch. In fact, I couldn’t spell it out, but I did make sure to tell you the division had been losing money for years. So you can’t say I misled you.”

After that explanation, Zhou Can let go of his frustration.

The old really do know best.

He had been warned about the division’s losses.

“Honestly, there was a backup plan. If you hadn’t wanted to buy, I’d have tried to scrape together the funds to buy it myself, then clean house from top to bottom. But with my limited resources and my position, that would have stirred up too much controversy. You, on the other hand, really are the chosen one for the job. You’ve got the money, the skills, the loyalty, and you’re a true patriot.”

That was exactly it.

Zhou Can had the resources, the ability, and deep dedication to the hospital—and to the country.

“Alright, let’s call it water under the bridge. Now that you’ve turned the division around, I’m sure it’ll soon make us all proud. I’ll congratulate you in advance—may you have both fame and fortune.”

Director Zhu then added, “Actually, I called you here to discuss something urgent. The hospital wants to promote you—directly—to Deputy Director of Quality Control. It’s a big responsibility, and you’d have to take the job right away, maybe as soon as tomorrow. Do you accept?”