Chapter 221: Chapter 218 Illness and Death
What was going on today, everyone was heading to the bar, first Qin Miaoke, and now He Qianhui.
But Zhang Hao still pressed this question in his heart and didn’t ask it aloud.
"Why haven’t you gone back so late?"
He Qianhui had purposely chosen a quiet spot, much quieter than near the dance floor at least.
"I had already gone back, but my colleague said this client was a bit tough to handle, so they called me out again to come here and have some fun."
"That client was just taken away by a beauty, so I excused myself under the pretext of going to the bathroom to give you a call, lest you miss me."
Although the camera’s view was limited, it wasn’t hard to tell that He Qianhui must be dressed to attract attention tonight.
"After you finish up later, hurry back and take a hot bath, then have a comfortable sleep—you’ve had a tough time with this business trip."
Even though he spoke of it being tough, Zhang Hao didn’t say a word about quitting the job so he could support her.
He knew if He Qianhui wasn’t happy with her job, she could quit and find another one.
Since she hadn’t done so, it meant she must like it quite a bit.
Previously, she had been confined by her cousin at home, being just a housewife, as if her value was nothing beyond taking care of a man and bearing children.
Now, she had a career she loved and was also appreciated by other men.
Perhaps she already had a bunch of admirers behind her now.
"Once I’m done with my work here, I’ll ask for a few days off from the company, to really rest up at home."
Zhang Hao, holding a beer, moved to the balcony and opened the window to enjoy the evening breeze.
"You think having days off means relaxation? By that time, you’ll hardly be able to get out of bed."
When two people are so attuned to each other, this is how they talk—sounds so serious, but think a bit more and you could easily find it too indelicate.
"Your mouth really knows no bounds, but even so, I like that about you."
"I won’t talk to you for now, I need to go back. Wait for me at home for a few more days."
After hanging up the video call, Zhang Hao finished his remaining beer and casually threw the empty can into the trash.
He returned to his bedroom, dragging his slightly tired body.
Between the sheets, he seemed to still smell a faint fragrance, all of it He Qianhui’s scent.
Surrounded by this fragrance, Zhang Hao could sleep very peacefully, all the way until dawn.
He had a good rest last night, free of distracting thoughts, and woke up feeling refreshed and invigorated.
But as soon as he arrived at the hospital, things became a bit awkward.
Upon entering the department, whether nurses or doctors, none had a smile on their face.
It was as if it was sunny outside, but cloudy in here.
"What’s going on with all of you, looking so heavy-hearted?"
Lin Wan, being close to Zhang Hao, explained the situation.
"Just now, we lost a patient, and their family is accusing us of lacking in medical skills, which caused us to miss the best timing for treatment."
"Who was it?" asked Zhang Hao.
In his recollection, the conditions of patients under his responsibility were all within controllable limits; death seemed unlikely.
"It was the Surgery Department, a patient admitted the day before yesterday, after a day and night of attempts to save him, we still couldn’t snatch him back from death."
Hearing that it wasn’t related to his department, Zhang Hao felt somewhat relieved.
"These are all trivial matters." Zhang Hao said.
As he spoke, the others all looked at Zhang Hao.
"How can you say these are trivial matters, that was someone’s life."
Seeing another doctor so agitated, Zhang Hao’s reaction could only be described as quite indifferent.
"From the moment people are born, they are headed towards death, even if not sick, they will die of natural aging over time."
"Being a doctor for such a long time, we should learn to be detached from life and death," He Qianhui said.
"Once engulfed by the shadow of death, if prolonged, even if the patients don’t have issues, we will. You know that, right?"
Understanding the meaning of Zhang Hao’s words, everyone’s mood seemed to have lightened somewhat.
"Let’s focus more on today’s work, hoping that similar incidents won’t occur in our department. I don’t want to be scolded by the boss."
An hour had passed, and Qin Miaoke still hadn’t shown up for work.
Zhang Hao was a bit worried, fearing that something might have happened to her last night.
Taking the opportunity of going to the bathroom, he called her.
He thought she wouldn’t pick up, but after two rings, her groggy voice came through.
"Qin Miaoke, do you see what time it is? Do you still want to study?"
The next second, he heard Qin Miaoke scream "Ah!", followed by a clattering sound.
Zhang Hao knew this girl must have overslept, despite his repeated reminders last night not to be late for work.
It seemed she had let his words go in one ear and out the other.
Another half hour passed before Qin Miaoke finally arrived, but even so, she was an hour and a half late.
However, considering it was her first offense, Zhang Hao didn’t reprimand her too much.
The department’s work went on as usual.
It wasn’t until the afternoon when the two were preparing to attend an exchange competition.
Just as they were leaving, the chief surgeon suddenly approached Zhang Hao.
To see if he could spare twenty minutes to see a patient.
Seeing there was still time, Zhang Hao first went to the surgical department.
The patient was in a private room, obviously wealthy and influential, seeking treatment at their small hospital was like gilding the lily.
"What’s the current situation of the patient?" Zhang Hao asked.
"We’ve done all kinds of tests, all normal, but the patient insists they’re suffering from unbearable headaches, and their feet feel like they’re being pricked with needles whenever they touch the floor."
"After discussing with several other doctors, we suspect it might be psychological."
"You understand traditional Chinese medicine. Could you assess from that perspective what’s actually wrong with them?"
After getting a general understanding of the patient, Zhang Hao went with them to the patient’s room.
The patient lay on the bed, pale-faced, even their lips colorless.
The chief surgeon brought the patient’s medical report, which indicated all values were normal.
There were no red flags.
"Most likely, it’s a psychological issue. I’ll take her pulse," Zhang Hao said.
The patient seemed to be sleeping, but this wasn’t ancient times.
There weren’t so many formalities in saving lives, especially with another doctor present.
Even if he had any inappropriate intentions, he couldn’t act on them under someone else’s watchful eye.
After taking the pulse, Zhang Hao already had a preliminary diagnosis.
"Don’t worry, the patient’s condition isn’t as serious as imagined. I’ll prescribe a formula when I get back," Zhang Hao said.
After leaving these words, he turned and left, leaving the chief surgeon in the room, staring blankly.
The chief surgeon then looked at the patient still lying unconscious on the bed and silently walked out.
Qin Miaoke had been waiting in the car for a while, and once again, her bag was bulging.
Zhang Hao couldn’t resist asking, "What exactly is in your bag that you always carry it with you to every event, yet I’ve never seen you take anything out?"
Qin Miaoke chuckled and said, "It’s a secret. You’d better hope that you’ll never need to use it."
