Sheng Xia, Cheng Liang

Cheng Liang’s mood was at its worst.

It wasn’t entirely because of the medical dispute. After encountering this kind of thing many times, not only his heart grew colder but also the anger he could muster became less.

He was angry because of Director Lin’s attitude—the first reaction of this conservative surgeon who had performed surgeries all his life when encountering such an incident was to protect his own hands.

And also because of his behavior of provoking the patient’s family in the end, he was pressed in the office and berated for an hour. Obviously, his neck still had red marks from strangulation, and his wife and children were desperately calling him after hearing about the incident.

Director Lin didn’t care about medical disputes, he only cared about what plan should be used to treat the patient, and he only cared about whether or not the students he taught were making progress.

Cheng Liang admitted that he would never be able to reach such a state in his life. Yet, after being held hostage with a knife, the first thing Director Lin did was educate him, advising him not to be strong as a doctor in this kind of situation, in case he stimulated the patient’s family, as they might still have a knife.

He said it wasn’t worth it.

This kind of profound sentiment made him angry.

Angry for Director Lin.

“Why me?” He asked Director Lin seriously, which was a rare occurrence. “You have so many students, many of whom are more talented than me. Why just me?”

He had been guided by Director Lin, given various opportunities that made others envy him, and taught painstakingly.

He, on the other hand, was like a stubborn rock.

“People with better talent than you are not as straightforward as you, and those who are as straightforward as you don’t have such a solid foundation as you.” Director Lin always answered Cheng Liang’s questions.

Cheng Liang was straightforward, had little material desires, and had good talent. He was the most suitable student he could find to inherit his mantle.

But he hadn’t reached enlightenment yet. He was too straightforward, so there was a gap between his world and the real world. Therefore, he couldn’t figure out many things and it was really hard for him to really be motivated.

“Being a doctor is a special profession. They can touch life and death, and they can see the worst of human nature,” Director Lin’s neck was still red from the strangulation. “To persist in such a profession and enjoy it, you need conviction.”

“Some doctors’ belief is in saving lives, while others’ belief is in researching techniques. At my age, besides saving lives, all that’s left for me is educating students.”

The prime time for a surgeon to perform surgeries isn’t long. Passing on knowledge from generation to generation, letting the younger generation take fewer detours, is Director Lin’s current focus.

“You need to find your conviction.” Director Lin left Cheng Liang with these words.

As a result, Cheng Liang’s mood became even worse.

He would turn thirty next year, but he still couldn’t find his conviction, and he didn’t even know where to start.

He just felt irritable—irritable communicating with patients, irritable with hospital personnel, irritable mentoring students, and irritable with quarterly evaluations.

After experiencing such an incident in the afternoon, he still had to work normally at night, which made him even more irritable.

“Here’s a list of problems that may occur during surgery, and these are the possible complications after surgery,” Cheng Liang pointed out the clauses of the preoperative communication consent form with a pen, and read them to Sheng Xia one by one.

“If you have any questions, ask me at any time,” he noticed halfway through that Sheng Xia was unusually quiet and emphasized, “Signing this paper means you understand and agree to the risks mentioned above and are willing to undergo surgery voluntarily.”

Sheng Xia just nodded thoughtfully, still not saying anything.

Cheng Liang looked at her steadily for a while, then lowered his head and continued to read the preoperative communication that he had read countless times. Her friend’s reaction was more normal than hers, asking several times about some scary terms, and her face turned pale when she went out.

Sheng Xia seemed too calm, even a little absent-minded.

“Sign it,” finishing reading a piece of paper didn’t take much time. Since the patient herself didn’t care, and he had reminded her, it was enough.

Cheng Liang began to feel irritable again.

“Dr. Cheng.” Sheng Xia didn’t take the pen but raised her head to look at him, and finally spoke.

They were sitting very close to each other to read the informed consent form. When Sheng Xia looked up, she almost bumped into Cheng Liang’s chin, and her hair brushed against his face.

Cheng Liang’s office chair slid back half a step without a sound, and he politely asked, “What’s the matter?”

It turned out she wasn’t refusing to ask, she just wanted to ask all the questions together.

Cheng Liang wasn’t sure whether to breathe a sigh of relief or to brace himself. In his impression, Sheng Xia wasn’t a difficult patient, but today’s medical dispute made him instinctively wary.

“For my situation,” Sheng Xia spoke while carefully choosing her words, “who is alone in a foreign place and whose parents and relatives cannot come over for the surgery, can I also entrust a friend to sign on my behalf? Would just signing an authorization letter be enough?”

Cheng Liang’s pen spun in his hand as he frowned slightly. “Yes.”

This question sounded too much like the prelude to stirring up trouble.

His previous sympathy was in vain, and this person even ate one of his oranges.

Sheng Xia fell silent for a moment. She hesitated whether to continue asking, wondering if she was being too meddlesome.

“So…” she eventually spoke up, “in a situation like Aunt Liu’s, if she finds someone she trusts to sign the consent form, is that also feasible? After all, Aunt Liu is currently a conscious, competent adult.”

This was the first thought that popped into her mind after searching for the preoperative communication process on the internet yesterday. What if Aunt Liu had an accident while under general anesthesia and needed a family member’s signature? Which one of her family members would genuinely want to save her?

Cheng Liang remained silent for a long time.

For some reason, the anger he had been feeling since the afternoon began to burn again, almost uncontrollably, along with his irritability.

“You’re scheduled for a cholecystectomy tomorrow,” he said. “Although it’s a minimally invasive procedure, according to the classification of surgical risks, this surgery is a level three surgery, which is just one level lower than the highest-risk level four surgery.”

“Even a senior attending physician like me can only perform this surgery under the guidance of a superior physician.”

He shouldn’t be like this.

Reading according to the informed consent form, which had been carefully deliberated over countless times by the hospital’s legal and medical departments, was the safest thing to do.

He shouldn’t have been confronting her like this after experiencing a medical dispute in the afternoon.

But the nameless indignation in his heart couldn’t be vented. Looking at Sheng Xia’s clear eyes, his mouth began to act on its own accord.

“You have been having a low-grade fever since you were admitted to the hospital. Chronic cholecystitis will definitely cause cholecystic adhesions. If the adhesions are severe and make laparoscopic cholecystectomy difficult, it may even be converted to open abdominal surgery during the surgery.”

“The gallbladder is an organ for concentrating and storing bile in the body. After the surgery, your digestive function will definitely not be the same as when you had your gallbladder. You will experience diarrhea and indigestion more frequently than ordinary people.”

“These are the questions you should be asking me, the things you need to consider tonight.”

Rather than asking about the condition of a fellow ward patient with whom she had only spent a few days.

“But surgery is necessary…” Sheng Xia was confused by Cheng Liang’s series of words. “I went to several hospitals and did a lot of tests before I decided to have the surgery. They all said that my current gallbladder must be removed.”

Cheng Liang: “……”

He needed to consider changing careers. His recent state of mind had reached a point where patients had to persuade him that the surgery was necessary.

“I just want to ask if Aunt Liu’s situation can also designate a trustee while she’s conscious,” Sheng Xia brought the topic back.

Since she had decided to be a busybody, she had to stick to it.

“Do you want to do it?” Cheng Liang asked.

The question was very abrupt, and the tone was strange.

Sheng Xia was stunned.

“Bed 15 is a regular in the hospital. We are very familiar with her family situation,” Cheng Liang said, looking at Sheng Xia.

At that moment, Sheng Xia felt as if she saw Cheng Liang facing the troublemakers in the evening.

“She doesn’t have the kind of person you’re talking about.”

Someone she could trust, someone who would first think of saving her in a critical moment.

People who have been sick for a long time are always isolated and helpless.

“So, do you want to be her trustee? Help her make decisions about whether to continue treatment when she loses consciousness, to help her decide what method and what medications to use?”

“Take on her life, or, to be kinder, help her solve her financial problems?”

This question was exceptionally malicious, and his tone sounded exactly like when he told the young man holding the knife in the evening that his grandfather had died from blood loss, that he could have been saved but his family refused to sign the consent form and he was dragged to death.

With resentment, as if Cheng Liang wasn’t asking Sheng Xia, but himself.

Is the so-called belief really like the Buddha who cuts his flesh to feed the eagle?

Is it because he couldn’t be that selfless so he couldn’t be the kind of student Director Lin was satisfied with?

He looked at Sheng Xia’s round eyes and thought of the way she looked when she was streaming, looking at the camera and saying that it was too lacking. He thought of the smile on the corner of her lips when she understood in a second after watching the video he took.

“Sorry.” Cheng Liang suddenly woke up. “It’s been a bit much today, and I’m not in the best mood.”

He took the initiative to apologize honestly and did not continue the topic.

“The question you asked is doable.” He replied, treating her like any other patient, being a professional doctor. “As long as Bed 15 finds a suitable candidate, it’s possible to communicate with Director Lin before the surgery.”

“Are there any other questions?” He asked, handing her the pen again, “If there are no more questions, just sign here.”

This time, Sheng Xia took the pen. Her handwriting was very beautiful, each stroke was sharp, very different from her gentle appearance.

“Aren’t you having candy today?” She asked after signing.

Cheng Liang frowned.

Sheng Xia took out a lollipop from the pocket of her hospital gown. It wasn’t the brand he usually ate, more like the strawberry lollipops from a convenience store, and there was a big pink strawberry in it. She held it and handed it to him.

Cheng Liang: “……”

“I see you eating candy every day.” Sheng Xia returned the signed consent form to Cheng Liang.

She bought it at the convenience store downstairs. She didn’t like candy, but when she saw lollipops, she thought of Cheng Liang and couldn’t help but buy a few.

“Dr. Cheng,” she said, “thank you for your hard work tomorrow.”

“I understand the risks of the surgery, and I know that surgery is necessary for my current condition. I’m also aware of the possible postoperative complications.”

“For the sake of my health, I will have a light diet after the surgery and have regular check-ups, so that your hard work will not be in vain.”

On this particularly disheartening evening, the girl in front of him gave him candy and words that were sweeter than candy.

It was comforting.

“And thank you for Aunt Liu’s matter as well.” She thanked him again, stood up, adjusted her chair, and turned to leave.

“Sheng Xia.” Cheng Liang stopped her.

“You can’t be Aunt Liu’s trustee.” Cheng Liang said.

Even if he met all Buddhas who liked to cut their flesh and feed it to eagles, he couldn’t watch them jump into the abyss one by one.

Sheng Xia was stunned and smiled: “Of course not, I’m just a ward mate with her.”

Even Aunt Liu herself probably wouldn’t have such thoughts.

This Dr. Cheng……

His thought process when he was angry and awkward was quite cute.

It somehow matched his world-weary face.

Cheng Liang: “……”

He didn’t know what Sheng Xia’s smile meant before she left, but he looked at the lollipop she left behind, and for some reason, he didn’t like it at all.

It was as if this girl had stabbed him again, and it hurt.

“Tch.” He snorted softly, opened the drawer, and tossed the lollipop inside.

In there, there were many pens he had secretly saved.