Chapter 39 He is no longer beautiful
The ambulance drove with its sirens and lights flashing, and stopped downstairs of the hospital. The medical staff quickly carried the patient to the emergency room.
The diagnosis was acute gastric perforation, and the patient went into shock, requiring immediate surgery.
After the preoperative preparations were completed, before entering the operating room, Zhou Wangchuan closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled, regaining his composure.
His shoulder was patted from behind. Xu Yong was standing behind him.
"Deputy Director Zhou, emotional instability is the most unacceptable thing on the operating table," Xu Yong said bluntly. "I've heard that the patient just brought in is a family member of yours. Emotions can affect decision-making during surgery. I suggest replacing the lead surgeon."
Half an hour ago, Zhou Wangchuan received a phone call and his expression immediately changed. He hurried away with the ambulance. Xu Yong saw it all.
Zhou Wangchuan said, "Director Xu, I can do it." The two had reconciled last time, and he knew that Xu Yong was just discussing the matter at hand.
He added, "The patient is my family member. I understand his physical condition, and my impromptu decisions on the operating table will be more accurate."
His voice was calm, and at least on the surface, he had completely regained his composure.
Xu Yong said, "Concern can lead to confusion. I hope you won't be too stubborn. Otherwise, you'll harm yourself and the patient. But if you insist, I respect your decision."
Zhou Wangchuan said, "Thank you."
He glanced toward the operating room, where the unconscious man lay unconscious on the bed. His voice softened, "Besides, I know he doesn't want a scar. I will do my best for him."
All preparations are completed and the operation begins.
Zhou Wangchuan had performed many gastric perforation surgeries, but none as tense as today. Halfway through the procedure, his back was drenched in sweat, and beads of sweat were oozing from his forehead, yet his hands remained precise and steady.
A doctor's heart can be anxious, his eyes can be wet, but his hands must not shake. As long as his hands remain steady, he is rational and focused.
Her pale skin, even against the backdrop of blood and knife wounds, still looked beautiful.
At the most dangerous juncture, Zhou Wangchuan took a deep breath. Normally, he hesitated for a few seconds at a decision he wouldn't hesitate at all. Even with a 99% chance of success, he still feared the 1% uncertainty.
Finally it was time to sew, and the last stitch was placed.
For more than four hours, Zhou Wangchuan didn't even glance at the unconscious, bleeding face, maintaining the rationality of a surgeon. He knew that even a single glance would cause his heart to flutter and his hands to tremble.
With a click, the operation was over as the excess cotton thread at the wound suture was cut off.
Zhou Wangchuan finally raised his head and took a look at the unconscious man. He took off his gloves and gently stroked the side of his face.
His voice was barely audible: "...I'm sorry."
***
Shang Mu woke up with a sharp pain. Before he opened his eyes, a soft groan of pain came from his throat, and he subconsciously wanted to curl up.
"Awake?" A familiar voice came from beside me immediately.
Shang Mu opened his eyes and saw Zhou Wangchuan's worried face.
"Baby, are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere?" Zhou Wangchuan sat down beside the bed and held his cold hand in his palm.
It was night, and it was pitch black outside the window, with a warm yellow lamp on at the head of the bed.
This was a single-bedroom ward, clean and simply decorated. Shang Mu sniffed the disinfectant in the air and belatedly realized he was in the hospital. The gradually waking pain made him frown, his expression blank, unable to recall why he was here.
Zhou Wangchuan held his hand and told him bit by bit, "Baby, you fainted at the company this morning, and then you had surgery this afternoon and slept for over eight hours. You're sick, and you need to rest for a while. The anesthetic must have worn off by now, so does the incision hurt?"
Shang Mu's consciousness gradually became clear. He recalled the bright red, the intense and terrifying pain, the smell of cedar aftershave he smelled before he fell into a coma, and the familiar warm hug.
However, after listening to Zhou Wangchuan's words, he caught a terrifying word and said weakly: "...blade?"
His voice was hoarse like a broken gong, and the pain in his wound worsened when he spoke, but he persisted, "Are there any... scars?"
Zhou Wangchuan paused for a moment, then stroked his hair nonchalantly. He didn't answer directly, but simply said, "Once the wound heals, it will slowly disappear. Don't think too much about it, okay? Have a good rest..."
Shang Mu was so clever, how could he not understand the hidden meaning? The heavy hammer hit him hard on the head, and he looked like he had been punched in the head, dazed and dizzy, unable to tell east from west. He suddenly felt hopeless, and nervously clenched the bed sheet, the veins on the back of his hand bulging.
There will be permanent scars on his body and he will no longer be beautiful.
This is the retribution God gave him.
He waited for so many years, and finally the retribution came.
Zhou Wangchuan saw his expression and felt bitter. He comforted him, "It's okay. Taking care of your health is the most important thing..."
Before he could finish his words, Shang Mu, not knowing where he got the strength from, shook his hand away: "Go away!"
Zhou Wangchuan was afraid that he would be injured by the knife, so he quickly grabbed his wrist to stop him from moving.
Shang Mu was exhausted. He turned his head away dejectedly, buried his face in the pillow, and said in an inaudible voice: "I hate you. Go away."
Zhou Wangchuan paused, walked around to the other side of the bed, and gently stroked his shoulders and back, silently comforting him.
Shang Mu had his back to him, his shoulders twitching slightly from time to time, and he soon fell asleep again.
Moonlight streamed into the ward, and Zhou Wangchuan saw wet tear marks and a damp pillowcase. He sighed silently and wiped away the tears.
Shang Mu's sleep was far from restful, he kept mumbling and moving around, his forehead covered in sweat, which seeped back out as soon as he wiped it off. Zhou Wangchuan was always by his side, taking care of him, helping him change positions, wiping away the sweat, and periodically moistening his dry lips with a cotton swab dipped in water.
Even in his sleep, Shang Mu was frowning and crying out in pain. Zhou Wangchuan had no choice but to give him a painkiller injection. He tossed and turned until late at night before finally falling into a relatively peaceful sleep.
At noon the next day, Shang Mu woke up again and felt better than last night.
Zhou Wangchuan helped him slow down the drip and said gently, "You can't eat during this period. You can only hang nutrient solution. When you are discharged from the hospital, I will make you something delicious, okay?"
Shang Mu glanced at him indifferently and closed his eyes.
Zhou Wangchuan tucked the quilt in for him and rubbed his jaw with his knuckles.
The wound hurt so much that Shang Mu couldn't fall asleep. Soon, sweat soaked his forehead from enduring the pain.
To be fair, this pain was nothing compared to yesterday's. Yesterday, despite the excruciating pain of a perforated stomach, he managed to keep a straight face and endure the excruciating pain while holding an hour-long meeting.
But that was in front of others.
He could never bear the pain in front of Zhou Wangchuan.
The moans in his throat almost burst out several times, but he gritted his teeth and endured it, shaking constantly.
"Don't hold it in. If it hurts, just tell me. There's no one else here." Zhou Wangchuan looked at him worriedly and wiped the sweat off his forehead. "You got a painkiller last night. You can't get it now. It will make you dependent. Talk to me, you'll feel better."
Shang Mu opened his sweat-soaked eyes, and his voice seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth: "Can you please not stay here all the time? Isn't it a nurse's job to take care of patients? What are you, an associate chief physician, doing here?! Can you please leave?" He was weak, and after he finished speaking, he closed his eyes weakly, breathing slightly.
He was in so much pain that he could barely bear it anymore. He wanted to scream like the people in the next ward. But he could scream in front of the whole world, but not in front of Zhou Wangchuan.
Before yesterday, he could do it, but not now.
Because he has lost his beauty.
It couldn't be more indecent.
"I'm not a doctor now, I'm your family member. I've taken annual leave, and my only job during this time is to take care of you." Zhou Wangchuan stroked the back of his neck, trying to calm him down. "If it hurts, just tell me. Don't be so reserved with me."
The hand on his back was warm and strong. Shang Mu whimpered silently, buried his face in the pillow as if giving up resistance, and continued to make tiny moans of pain.
Zhou Wangchuan felt a pang of pain in his heart, but he could only gently stroke his shoulders, neck and back to comfort him.
Shang Mu continued to doze off into the afternoon. He slept uncomfortably, constantly wanting to stir in his half-daze. The people around him knew his thoughts perfectly well; whenever he tried to turn over, a pair of strong hands would help him, massaging the other side of his body that was numb. In his dream, he was trekking through the desert, ravenous with thirst, his lips constantly moistened with a wet cotton swab, which he licked repeatedly as he slowly made his way out.
In the early hours of the morning, a small light was on beside the bed.
Shang Mu regained consciousness, but he didn't open his eyes. Zhou Wangchuan noticed the change in his breathing and asked, "Baby, are you feeling better?"
Shang Mu closed his eyes and didn't speak, his teeth clenched, and his breathing was inexplicably unstable.
Zhou Wangchuan keenly sensed his tension and worried that something was wrong with his body. He immediately went to check the instruments nearby, but the data was normal.
He frowned and touched Shang Mu's forehead, and the temperature was normal.
Finally, his eyes fell on the urine bag on the side of the bed. It was empty - three large bottles of nutrient solution had been hung up, so there was no way it was empty.
Zhou Wangchuan understood. With deft movements, he reached into the quilt and pressed Shang Mu's lower abdomen: "Don't hold it in, pee."
He was a doctor, he'd seen it all, including patients who refused to pee in a bag because they were too proud to do so. He understood perfectly. Physiological needs were perfectly normal, and he would never disdain a patient, let alone his lover.
Unexpectedly, Shang Mu's eyes suddenly turned red. He opened his eyes wide and tears fell down in strings.
Zhou Wangchuan panicked: "Baby, it's okay, it's really okay..."
After enduring for so long, Shang Mu finally couldn't take it anymore. He'd endured the scars on his body, endured the waves of pain, and even though his heart was broken, he still had to maintain a calm appearance. But now, he finally lost control.
Tears kept falling like beads from a broken string. Shang Mu's whole body was shaking, and his voice was filled with suppressed tears. "You only know how to bully me... How is the way you look at me now different from looking at an old man in his seventies or eighties, or a middle-aged woman? Do you think I'm a loser who can't even go to the toilet? You stay here just to laugh at me. I hate you..."
At the end, he was sobbing and breathless, and asked in a broken heart, "Isn't it enough that you've scarred me? Are you still humiliating me like this?"
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