Chapter 651: Turning the Tide: A Surgeon’s Gamble and a Family’s Hope

The human circulatory system runs throughout the entire body, with an astonishing network of blood vessels.

Capillaries and tiny veins are especially dense, even more crowded than the tangled roots of a young forest.

When one of the major blood vessels has a problem, nearby vessels step in to compensate. Over time, one or two of these may enlarge and become the new main vessels.

Just like that, the blood flow pattern changes.

Sometimes, this shift is lifesaving—it’s the body’s way of adapting to survive.

After all, humanity has survived for at least six and a half million years, clawing through relentless evolution and brutal competition. Our bodies are far stronger than we imagine.

Zhou Can pondered the effects that this blood vessel’s change in path might have on his patient.

The patient had completely lost their hearing.

This diverted blood flow was likely connected to that loss.

He decided to check his books and look up an anatomical map of the arteries in the brain. This vessel was indeed an artery.

In fact, arteries are more prone to change since the blood rushes through them faster and at higher pressure. Veins, meanwhile, are a bit gentler.

Each has pros and cons—arteries are susceptible to plaque buildup and hardening, while veins tend to get varicose or develop clots, especially in the legs.

Flipping through a detailed atlas of the human head, he found the vascular pages and closely compared them to the patient’s unusual ultrasound images.

He quickly pinpointed the troublesome blood vessel.

“So it was this artery that changed. But the area it feeds isn’t the hearing center of the brain!”

The brain is divided into countless regions—some control hearing, others vision, others pain in a limb… every single nerve function ties back to the brain.

Digging deeper, Zhou Can realized that the area now supplied by the diverted vessel might be suffering from tissue shrinkage since its original blood supply was cut off.

The patient’s gradual hearing loss probably started there.

Here’s the big question: once brain tissue atrophies, is it even possible to recover?

And why does shrinkage in that particular area cause deafness?

Piecing it together, Zhou Can suspected most likely that the atrophied region now encroached on the hearing center.

Actually, that zone was right next to the hearing center all along.

Even though his skills in neurosurgery and neurology had become highly advanced—his diagnoses pushing level seven—

He might even be a notch above specialists like Wu Baihe or Director Yin from Neurology.

Still, there were areas where even he felt unsure.

After discussing with Wu Baihe, they decided to get the family’s input on a craniotomy.

Any brain surgery comes with risk—they might open up the skull and find nothing they can actually fix, then have to close everything up again.

But when they spoke with the family, their cooperation was beyond anything Zhou Can expected.

That genuinely surprised him.

So, following protocol, they arranged for surgery. They’d already agreed with the family: if they could treat what they found after opening the skull, they’d operate right then and there.

Once the skull was open, Zhou Can discovered his diagnosis had been spot-on.

Sure enough, that small patch of brain tissue had lost its regular blood supply and started to wither.

Even its color had faded to a pale gray.

Brainwave tests confirmed it—the neurons in that area were almost totally dead.

At this stage, he could confirm the real cause of the patient’s deafness.

Luckily, Zhou Can’s skill at vascular anastomosis was expert level—a solid seven.

Repairing this artery was no challenge at all.

He restored the blood flow on the spot, and the once “parched” region of the brain quickly came back to life. Before, its survival depended on a thin trickle from tiny capillaries.

It was hanging by a thread.

Now, with blood surging back, its color changed right before their eyes.

Bit by bit, the brain tissue filled out and became vibrant again.

Of course, a complete recovery would take time.

With luck, that could be two weeks; worst case, a year or two.

“Let’s run another test on the auditory nerves.”

Zhou Can turned to his assistant.

After testing, the assistant said excitedly, “There’s some signal starting to come back, even though it’s faint! Looks like your diagnosis was right—it really was that shrunken bit of brain causing the hearing loss.”

To the doctors present, it felt more like witnessing a surgical masterpiece than just another operation.

They all learned a ton watching up close.

Zhou Can nodded, checked everything once more, and only then allowed his assistant to close the skull.

…

After surgery, the patient’s hearing began to return—if only slightly.

The family was overjoyed, treating Zhou Can with almost reverent warmth—like he was some living saint.

Afterwards, he almost avoided that ward entirely.

About eight days later, the patient was discharged. His hearing continued to improve at a good pace.

Roughly twenty days out, the family showed up at the Emergency Department first thing in the morning to thank Zhou Can. They brought a banner and homemade specialties from their hometown.

They told Zhou Can their son’s hearing had nearly recovered.

He could now communicate just fine.

Their biggest worry had melted away, and their son had regained his confidence—he was even starting to come out of his shell.

Hearing the news, Zhou Can couldn’t help but join in their joy.

Everything was unfolding just as he’d hoped.

Still, he hadn’t expected the recovery to go so fast. Just over twenty days after restoring blood flow, even that atrophied brain tissue was nearly as good as new.

He accepted the family’s thank-you banner, but when they tried to give him gifts—honey, dried black fungus, a big bottle of tea oil—Zhou Can politely refused.

But the family insisted.

At last, he relented and accepted. To be fair, he handed them a thousand yuan to cover their trip home.

In a way, he’d just bought those hometown treats.

Su Qianqian was expecting, so a bit of real honey and home-cooked meals with tea oil wouldn’t go amiss.

You could find these things in stores, but genuine farm produce was rare.

The gifts were full of gratitude and all the more authentic for it.

That very evening, just after eight, Zhou Can had finished an interventional neurology surgery and was preparing to head home.

His phone rang—it was a number he didn’t recognize.

Notably, the area code was from the Imperial Capital.

He did have connections there—some powerful people whose ailments he’d treated were grateful enough to ask for his number or add him on WeChat. They’d even send him festival greetings.

At his recent wedding, several dignitaries from both the Imperial Capital and Magic City attended.

But these folks always kept a low profile.

They would never let on who they really were to outsiders.

He picked up.

“Hello, may I ask who’s calling?”

“Dr. Zhou, this is Song Qingming. If you have some free time, I can send a car for you now.”

The voice on the other end was low and commanding.

“Are you Mr. Song’s brother?”

Zhou Can didn’t actually know who Song Qingming was, but the Song family patriarch’s voice sounded familiar.

“That’s me.”

“I just got off work. Where are you? I can come to you directly. If you’re in the Imperial Capital, though, that might be tough—I have surgery in the morning.”

“I’m at home. Come by. I’ll have the butler pick you up at your apartment gate.”

“Alright! See you soon.”

Zhou Can waited for the call to end, then headed to the underground parking lot and drove to the Song Family Mansion.

This time, the Song family welcomed him with the utmost respect.

The family head spoke with him for close to forty minutes, asking mostly about Mr. Song’s treatment. At last, he agreed to let Zhou Can operate.

They decided that Mr. Song would be transferred to Tuyu Hospital the next morning.

Walking out of the Song family estate, Zhou Can couldn’t suppress a surge of excitement.

He’d been dreaming of this, putting in endless work to prepare—and now, at last, he’d earned their trust.

Life is short—even if you’re lucky, you might live a century.

You have to do something meaningful.

Dr. Xu had been a mentor to him—he owed her more than words could ever pay back. Watching her trapped in suffering, he was determined to do everything he could to help.

“The Song patriarch has probably been watching me since our last meeting. As soon as I cured that young man’s hearing, he called—these two things are definitely connected.”

Zhou Can understood why people in power were both cautious and measured.

They could marshal immense medical resources and had access to more information than most could imagine.

Only when he’d proven safe, reliable and likely to succeed did they give the green light.

It really hadn’t been easy.

Now all he could do was hope the surgery would go smoothly.

That night, back at home, Zhou Can handed the gifts from the patient’s family to Su Qianqian.

She tasted some honey straight away, eyes shining, and couldn’t stop raving about it.

For a family like theirs, this sort of all-natural honey was just a bit of a novelty—they could always afford the best royal jelly if they wanted.

And they could guarantee it was the real deal, too.

Zhou Can knew exactly how risky the surgery for Mr. Song was, and laid it all out for Su Qianqian.

They were husband and wife now—there was no keeping secrets.

Not even the kindest white lies.

Couples had to be honest with one another.

Su Qianqian listened in silence, clearly worried about him taking on so much.

But seeing the resolve in his eyes, and knowing him as she did, she realized there was no point trying to talk him out of it.

Zhou Can might look cold-hearted, but that was only on the surface.

He cared deeply for his loved ones and those who had shown him kindness.

“Honey, if you’ve decided, then do it. Like you said, worst case is we lose our money and have to start over. I can handle that. As long as I have you, the rest doesn’t matter.”

To have a wife like that—what more could a man ask for?

Zhou Can pulled her close. With her unwavering support, every doubt in his heart vanished.

Next morning at the hospital, Mr. Song and his family were already there—they’d moved him to the Tuyu Hospital Emergency Department in record time.

He was set up directly in the ICU.

Director Gao, the hospital’s new head, heard the news and bustled around making arrangements himself.

There’s real power in privilege.

It gave you access to unlimited resources—and, somehow, you rarely had to pay.

“Young man, the family head can’t be here. We’ve been told to follow your instructions in every way and make sure the operation goes safely.”

The butler relayed the message to Zhou Can.

“Thank you for trusting me. I’ll give it everything I’ve got.”

He gave his word on the spot.

“Director Zhou, this is a matter of the highest importance. The whole hospital stands behind you. Anything you need, I’ll handle personally to guarantee success.”

Director Gao was desperate to win favors with the Song family.

Even without their patriarch present, he stayed eager.

Since Gao took over as director, his relationship with Zhou Can had been far from warm.

Though there’d never been open fights, it was obvious Director Gao was wary, finding subtle ways to sideline or suppress him—especially when it came to hospital management. Zhou Can’s influence had been nearly stripped away.

Even his deputy position in Quality Control had been hollowed out and handed to Gao’s pet Hospital Assistant, Han Cheng.

Zhou Can once wielded major power in quality control; now, he was just a bystander.

Hospital Assistant Qin had it even worse.

He spent his days quietly reading the newspaper and running pointless errands.

And they weren’t the only ones—Director Fang from the Administration Office had been squeezed out as well.

The administration used to be under the director’s direct authority. Gao wanted his trusted people in charge—it was entirely normal.

That’s why everyone jockeys for position when a new boss comes in.

Everyone wants a leg up.

Fang’s rank was too high to simply fire, so she was bumped up to Vice-Director—with all the title and none of the real power.

After all, the hospital wasn’t a dictatorship.

Gao’s trick was to find a pretext, then promote his own person, Ying from the Medical Office, as director of administration.

Fang was forced into her new, toothless role.

Vice-Director in name, no real authority.

Say what you will about Director Gao’s skills, he was a shrewd operator.

Most of the hospital was firmly under his control by now.

Yet clinical medicine was the lifeblood of the hospital and ran on its own set of rules. Gao couldn’t easily sink his teeth in.

So far, only Director Lou from Emergency had thrown his lot in with Gao.

The other department heads and specialists all stood their ground—they didn’t care much for Gao’s opinion.

He was smart enough not to provoke such technical talent.

For now, a careful balance held.

Director Gao was biding his time.

Maybe he’d wait until heavyweights like Director Tan from Internal Medicine and Director Xie from Surgery retired—then swoop in.

…

At that moment, Director Lou rushed in.

He must have heard the news and hurried over from home.

When he learned Zhou Can was doing the surgery, Director Lou seemed annoyed.

He greeted Director Gao first, then fixed Zhou Can with an icy look.

“Zhou, why didn’t you report such a major event to me? Do you even respect me as Vice-Director of Emergency?”

It was the first time Director Lou had ever criticized Zhou Can publicly.

He sounded angry, and his face was grim.

“Director Gao, I have a request. Mr. Song’s case is huge—if anyone’s going to lead the surgery, it should be me. Zhou is too young. He’s got skills, sure, but what he lacks is experience. With me at the helm, I can better coordinate emergency resources and add another layer of safety to the operation.”

Director Lou’s request was firm and unwavering.

It was obviously an attempt to claim the credit.

If the surgery succeeded, the glory would be immense.

He had no intention of letting that slip by.

“Yes, Director Lou’s request makes sense. It should help Mr. Song’s surgery succeed—I support it.”

Director Gao gave his approval.

After all, Lou was the only Vice-Director openly backing Gao.

He wouldn’t quash this chance to build loyalty.

“Thank you, Director Gao! Zhou, don’t just stand there—get ready for the operation! If anything goes wrong, you’ll answer to me.”

It had been ages since Lou called Zhou Can ‘Zhou’ in public; lately, he’d always said ‘Director Zhou.’

This time, Zhou Can had left him out of the loop, and Lou’s outrage was written all over his face.