Chapter 3 The Special Patient

“Kid, let me warn you, don’t make things worse. If something happens to the patient, can you bear that responsibility?” Deputy Director Liu shouted angrily as he saw Zhuang Zhou approach.

“And if the patient can’t be saved? Can you bear that responsibility?” Zhuang Zhou retorted coolly. “If you can’t, then get out of my way. All of you crowding around like a swarm of flies will suffocate the patient. Don’t you even understand such basic medical common sense?”

He pushed Deputy Director Liu aside without ceremony, and the other doctors stepped back two paces.

Now, Zhuang Zhou stood before the patient, his expression suddenly grave. He dipped his finger in the blood at the edge of the patient’s mouth, brought it to his nose, and sniffed gently. His mind was already made up.

“Sister Lin Wen, come here and help me hold him down!”

Ignoring the ring of doctors, Zhuang Zhou called over Lin Wen, who was standing at the door.

Lin Wen’s hands were skillful and experienced. Soon, the patient’s tremors eased. Zhuang Zhou nodded with a faint smile, then placed two fingers on the patient’s wrist, carefully checking his pulse.

Looking up, Zhuang Zhou saw an elderly man in his seventies. His complexion was pale, the space between his brows dark, but his skin radiated an unnatural heat.

This illness would be difficult to treat.

Judging from the shock, the old man was suffering from a sudden outbreak of toxins within his body. The injuries he had sustained in his youth had accumulated into a lingering poison—a yin poison. The yin poison had penetrated his internal organs, and the fact that he had survived so long was a testament to his extraordinary resilience.

If the old man had only this yin poison, it would not be such a complicated matter. What made it truly difficult was that, at the same time, there was also a yang poison in him. This yang poison burned through his body like fire, causing him to suffer the agony of being scorched from within. If Zhuang Zhou’s guess was correct, it was the result of taking some extremely potent, rare tonic—one the body could not absorb, which then transformed into a deadly yang poison.

Now, the two poisons—yin and yang—were raging at once, turning the old man’s body into a battlefield. No matter which poison prevailed, the loser would be the old man himself. His body was clearly too weak to withstand such a double assault, which was why he had temporarily slipped into shock.

Zhuang Zhou took a deep breath, decision made.

He raised his right thumb and pressed lightly on the old man’s chest, at the midpoint, then, gathering all his strength, traced a line down to the lower abdomen. The old man’s tremors gradually ceased, his body growing calm. Even the incessant beeping of the cardiac monitor changed to a steady, rhythmic pattern.

Zhuang Zhou breathed a silent sigh of relief. Lin Wen, delighted, said, “Xiao Zhuang, the patient is stable now.”

Could it really be that easy?

The other doctors stared in disbelief. Their elaborate emergency procedures now seemed like a farce, while this young man had needed only a few simple moves to stabilize the crisis.

This kid’s luck was unbelievable!

“Deputy Director Liu, since the patient is stable, may I trouble you to write up your notes more clearly in the future? If your handwriting is too sloppy, the nurses can’t read it, and it could affect the patient’s treatment. If such a thing happens again, you won’t be able to escape responsibility.”

Zhuang Zhou casually picked up the patient’s chart at the bedside, flipped through a couple of pages, and addressed Deputy Director Liu with a serious tone.

Deputy Director Liu’s face turned the color of pig’s liver. Not only had he failed to take credit, but now this young upstart was lecturing him. How bizarre! This brat had stabilized the patient in just a few moves?

“Whether the patient is stable or not isn’t up to you,” he snapped. “We need a thorough examination before drawing any conclusions.”

At that moment, three figures appeared in the doorway. Leading them was a middle-aged man with graying hair. Beside him was a tall, striking military woman, dressed in army green, hair cropped short, her shining boots showing off her long, shapely legs. Bringing up the rear was a handsome young doctor, dashing yet with a shadow of coldness between his brows.

“Officer Ye, please rest assured—your grandfather’s care is our top priority. He will have the best ward and equipment in the hospital. As for the surgery, Dr. Jiang will be in charge. Don’t be fooled by his youth; Dr. Jiang is one of the top talents in Dongjiang Province. He trained under the national authority, Master Yan, a leading expert in neurology. Dr. Jiang has inherited all of Master Yan’s skills,” said Wu Dongjie, the hospital’s director.

The young woman, though youthful, already bore the insignia of a colonel—she was Ye Song, the old man’s granddaughter.

At the sight of the young doctor, Zhuang Zhou’s pupils contracted—Jiang Ping’an!

Jiang Ping’an—the very man responsible for what had happened to him.

Enemies’ paths are bound to cross. Rage flared in Zhuang Zhou’s eyes, then vanished just as quickly. He reminded himself: now was not the time for impulsiveness—he must endure.

First, his body was too weak; a rash move would only lead to disaster. Second, Jiang Ping’an was only a pawn; there were others behind him. If Zhuang Zhou wanted revenge, he would have to uproot all those plotting against him.

A master of toxins does not share the world with his enemy. This grudge would not be forgotten, but the reckoning would come slowly.

“What’s going on here?” Wu Dongjie’s expression darkened as he took in the noisy, crowded VIP ICU, the chaos reminiscent of a marketplace. Why were all these doctors gathered here?

Deputy Director Liu stepped forward ingratiatingly, eager for credit. “Director Wu, the patient suffered sudden shock just now. Thanks to our efforts, he’s out of danger.”

“What?” Ye Song’s face blanched at the news of her grandfather’s crisis. She rushed to the bedside to check on him.

“For now, he’s safe—the crisis is under control. But if he’s not treated promptly, the outlook is grim,” Zhuang Zhou said quietly.

“What caused this sudden episode, Liu Honggeng? What have you been doing?” Director Wu’s voice was sharp.

Seeing Wu Dongjie’s anger, Liu’s words faltered. He knew the director’s temper too well—complaining now would only backfire.

“Please don’t worry, Director Wu. The case is unusual, but it’s under control,” Liu Honggeng said awkwardly.

“Hmph, if not for Zhuang Zhou, the patient might already be dead,” Lin Wen interjected, unable to hold back.

A moment ago, these people had all been happy to watch Zhuang Zhou and her being mocked; now they were scrambling to take credit.

Ye Song and Director Wu both looked puzzled.

“You’re a new doctor here?” Director Wu asked.

Zhuang Zhou shook his head with a smile. “Director Wu, I’m a sophomore at Dongjiang Medical University. My name is Zhuang Zhou.”

He remembered from his predecessor’s memories that Director Wu Dongjie was likely to become the next national master—a man of outstanding skill and impeccable character, who also served as executive vice-chancellor of Dongjiang Medical University.

“Oh?” Director Wu was still puzzled. “Isn’t it a bit early for your internship? What are you doing here?”

Jiang Ping’an stepped forward with a smile. “Director Wu, he’s my patient. My junior was in a car accident—he’s receiving treatment here.”

Zhuang Zhou nodded, playing along. “Indeed, thanks to Dr. Jiang, I’ve come back from the dead.”

Their words held a hidden edge, but Director Wu paid it no mind—his focus was on the old man in the bed, whose identity was too sensitive. Orders from above had been explicit: spare no effort, no mistakes allowed.

He moved to the bedside, checked the old man’s pulse, and suddenly his expression changed dramatically.

“Who… Who did this?”

Director Wu’s reaction was so intense that everyone in the room, except Zhuang Zhou, looked astonished.

“Director Wu, I must admit a mistake. One of our nurses was negligent, which led to the patient’s crisis,” Liu Honggeng quickly tried to shift blame onto Lin Wen.

But Director Wu ignored him, his face animated. “I’m not asking about that—I mean, who performed the emergency intervention just now? This technique… could it be?”

Lin Wen caught the excitement in his eyes and replied, “Director Wu, when Deputy Director Liu and the other doctors were at a loss, it was Zhuang Zhou who stepped in and stabilized the patient.”

“Oh?” Director Wu turned to Zhuang Zhou, eyes shining with excitement.

Zhuang Zhou understood why—his earlier technique must have deeply shocked Director Wu.

Director Wu hurried to him, demanding, “Was it you? The Three-Fingered Lifeline?”