Chapter 59
Dean's Office.
The call was quickly answered, and the director of human resources' cheerful laughter came through: "Hello, Dean Fu? It's rare to receive a call from you outside of our regular meeting time. What are your instructions?"
Fu Zong lightly tapped the table with his fingers, producing a rhythmic, crisp sound, and didn't rush to speak.
The person on the other end of the phone seemed to realize something was wrong; their breathing slowed, and they became increasingly anxious.
Fu Zongcai finally asked, "What level of patients have you assigned to the new director?"
"Haha, well..."
"Think carefully before you answer, Lao Zhou." Fu Zong's tone remained unchanged, yet it inexplicably gave off an unyielding sense of pressure. "I think you wouldn't be foolish enough to believe you can deceive me?"
Director Zhou coughed twice, paused for half a second, and said with a wry smile, "I'm sorry, Dean. My subordinates are ignorant. I only just found out that they are so bold as to temporarily change the new director's patients."
"You just found out?" Fu Zong chuckled.
But he was too lazy to argue with the other party now, and asked directly: "What level exactly do you want to change to? Tell me."
Director Zhou stammered, sounding very apologetic: "It's just a Class C severe case, just an average assessment."
"Hmm, maybe it's because we old guys have seen so many patients that it's not difficult for us. I just wonder what level of workload the new director was in before, he should be fine too?"
It was pretty much as Fu Zong had expected.
He knew that even if these old foxes wanted to play dirty tricks, they wouldn't be too blatant or go too far, lest they give others grounds for criticism.
The assigned level C critical care unit was right at the dividing line between resident physicians (junior) and attending physicians (intermediate).
If Xie Xubai can cure him, it is due to his ability as a chief physician, and it is not worthy of praise or celebration.
If Xie Xubai cannot be cured, then the problem will be huge.
Within the next day, a petition signed by numerous doctors would be prominently displayed on Fu Zong's desk.
Fu Zong remained silent for a moment, and Director Zhou immediately showed concern: "What's wrong, Dean? Is the new director having some trouble? I'll find my staff right away—"
When superiors can't handle something, they brazenly send their subordinates to put it out. Is this because they want Xie Xubai to lose face big enough?
Fu Zong let out a cold laugh, which sent chills down the spine of Director Zhou on the other end of the phone.
Director Zhou, quick-witted as ever, immediately began to speculate with trepidation about the relationship between Xie Xubai and the dean, since it was clear from this stance that Xie was determined to protect Xie to the end.
He changed the subject and added, "Dean, don't worry about it. I'll be right there. I'll hand over my work to Xiao Liu right now and I'll be there in a minute!"
“No need.” Fu Zong interrupted him with a smirk. “You’re right. Grade C critical care is only average and doesn’t demonstrate the strength of a chief physician. So I want you to add Grade B critical care to Director Xie’s ward.”
Director Zhou was struck dumb, completely stunned on the other end of the phone.
Grade B critical care? What is the hospital director trying to do?
The world distortion came without warning, and doctors could never keep up with the speed at which the monsters' contamination worsened, so the First Hospital was never short of patients with severe conditions.
The problem is that nobody dares to treat it!
The reason why C-level severe illness is used as a watershed is that patients at this level are at least still rational, have average physical strength, and can be controlled by doctors themselves.
The next level up is so bad that it becomes unmanageable. When medical disputes arise, it's like a regional catastrophe, and the hospital's defense department has to be called in!
Heaven knows that Director Zhou would rather be seriously injured than face those lunatics in the defense department.
But what did the dean just say? Add a Grade B critical care physician to the new director's ward?
Director Zhou is no longer worried about Fu Zong favoring the new director; his attitude is undoubtedly one of wanting to destroy him!
Fu Zong seemed to sense his secret joy and said with a smile, "In case of a violent riot, take more people with you to keep an eye on things, and it would be best to call all the directors as well."
"I see, but the other directors are probably too busy to come." Director Zhou suppressed his joy and repeated the same thing over and over. "I'll try my best to notify them."
Upon hearing this, Fu Zong knew that it was a sure thing.
Not to mention the directors and their junior interns, even the security guards in the patrol team, Zhou the Bald would go to great lengths to call over a few of them.
After all, that bald guy always considered Xie Xubai's current position as his own, but he didn't think that with Xie Xubai's frequent blunders, sitting in that position would be uncomfortable for him.
After hanging up the phone, Fu Zong scoffed lightly and took a sip of the hot tea on the table.
Then the gaze shifted and settled on the shattered windowpanes scattered on the floor.
He was still astonished at the sudden realization that Xie Xubai could trigger the [rules], and didn't rush to call someone to clean up and replace the windows.
Fu Zong was eager to see what expressions those old fogies who formed cliques and pursued personal gain would have when they saw Xie Xubai easily handle a C-level critical illness and then successively cure a B-level critical illness.
Thinking of this, he couldn't help but feel happy, and without noticing that his hand, which had just put down the teacup, had shifted two centimeters off the coaster.
In an instant, a piercing alarm sounded, piercing Fu Zong's eardrums, and a white warning line with red lettering appeared in front of him, visible only to him.
The blood-red characters were sticky and slippery, as if real blood were flowing on them, filled with an eerie and gloomy atmosphere.
[My personal belongings are out of place, which doesn't align with my "meticulous" and "severely obsessive-compulsive" standards. Please correct this immediately!]
Fu Zong's brows, which had just relaxed, furrowed instantly, and his face became gloomy.
He remained motionless for about three seconds.
The alarm sounded three times in succession, each time louder than the last.
After the third sound, each sound brought a real pain, as if an invisible hand was raising a sharp knife and viciously stabbing at his ear.
Fu Zong let out another cold, chilling laugh.
As the pain began to subside, he finally reached out and picked up the teacup that had shifted off the coaster.
The alarm disappeared, and the virtual white warning line with red text vanished.
Only the stinging pain in my ears lingered, like a silent warning.
Fu Zong took a sip of tea as if nothing had happened, and held the teacup for about five minutes before the alarm sounded as expected, its sharp and piercing sound making his brain and scalp tremble.
[The action of "drinking tea - lifting the teacup" has exceeded the logical time limit. Please correct it immediately!]
Fu Zong put down his teacup and continued working.
After about ten minutes, he suddenly sensed an overwhelming and terrifying pressure, which, judging from the direction, was located in the area of the mutated monsters.
Fu Zong glanced over casually, then suddenly sensed something and frowned.
Grade A severe case?!
Fu Zong immediately sensed something was wrong, and hurriedly got up, strode to the door, put his hand on the doorknob, and was about to rush out of the office.
Blood-red warning lines appeared in an instant, crisscrossing and blocking the door, forcefully assaulting his retina!
Outside of rest periods, please adhere to the "dedication to your job" principle and do not leave your work station without permission.
"Some fool has released the Class A intensive care unit, leaving hundreds of medical staff and patients there! And you expect me to stay here and be dedicated to my job?"
Fu Zong retorted angrily, "Do you want to love your damn mass graves after everyone dies, or do you want to respect your damn funeral industry?!"
No personnel reports have been received yet. Please remain calm.
Please adhere to the standards of "high moral character and profound cultivation," and avoid using offensive language in your speech.
"Get out!" Fu Zong shouted angrily.
He forcefully turned the doorknob, and the security tape instantly sprang up, like thorny vines tightly wrapping around Fu Zong's entire arm, the sharp thorns piercing through the bone and leaving streaks of blood.
The pain fueled Fu Zong's ferocity, and his eyes flashed with a bloodshot red.
I'll say it one last time—
Fu Zong said, "Get the hell out of my way!!"
Impacted by his immense and surging spiritual power, the warning line began to sway precariously, cracking out like a spiderweb.
On the other side, the Monster Healing Zone.
As the oppressive aura of a Level A emanated, the yellow medical sign hanging at the entrance, indicating a Level C critical condition, emitted a muffled electronic buzzing sound, instantly turning into a Level A blood red.
"The system malfunctioned just now; it really is a Level A critical case!"
The entire hall immediately descended into chaos, filled with the sounds of people screaming in horror.
Someone reacted quickly and rushed to notify the defense department for backup.
When Director Zhou arrived with several other directors and their medical team, they were met with this chaotic scene.
The A-level pressure spread out with a loud bang, sweeping across the entire building like a storm.
The experienced directors immediately realized what had happened, their expressions changed drastically, and they grabbed one of them to ask what was going on.
The man stammered, "I don't know who tried to frame the new director, but they changed his patients to Class A critical cases! The door is open but can't be closed, and we're still evacuating people!"
After saying that, he ran upstairs without looking back to help the security guards organize the crowd to evacuate.
The directors exchanged surprised glances, and within a second, their icy gazes fell upon Director Zhou.
A director angrily demanded, "Old Zhou, is this the show you were talking about? Are you crazy?!"
They didn't dare linger; before they could even finish speaking, they had already rushed into the treatment hall.
Director Zhou's mind went blank; he was completely stunned by the sudden news and was speechless.
Seeing the others rush in like their pants were on fire, he suddenly shuddered, quickly caught up, and scratched his head, stammering, "You have to believe me, I... I didn't know! Even if I were brave, I wouldn't dare do such a thing! It must have been the dean—"
"Stop explaining, solve the problem first! Can you confirm which Grade A critical patient was released?"
It's important to understand that there are differences between severe illnesses. Some are just one step away from becoming terminal, which is what people are familiar with as the rage state.
At that point, the patient will lose all rationality and be left only with a primal killing instinct!
Director Li only hoped that things wouldn't be the worst possible outcome.
Those nearby looked on with anticipation as if they had seen saviors upon the arrival of the directors.
Someone immediately replied, "Director Li, it's Grade A [sludge]."
Director Li suddenly breathed a sigh of relief.
If I remember correctly, the patient's condition has been stable and has not yet reached the point of complete rage.
However, the very next second, another resident physician responsible for entering the information caught up and said anxiously, "Departments, we just received news from the prevention and treatment department this morning that the patient's condition [sludge] has worsened and is not optimistic. They had to give him more than a dozen sedatives to calm him down!"
Several directors: "…………"
Holy crap.
However, when everyone arrived at the scene with a sense of duty to die, they found that many medical staff who should have been evacuated had not left.
They stared wide-eyed, their faces pressed against the observation glass like idiots, staring blankly down.
The oppressive aura lingered, like a drumbeat in everyone's hearts, making several directors furious.
Director Li stepped forward, grabbed one of the men by the collar, and shouted angrily, "What are you all doing crowding here? Don't you want to die?"
The man seemed to have been pulled out of reality, his face showing deep confusion. He came to his senses and explained, "No, Director, look quickly."
"What are you looking at? I—"
"Old Li! Come quick and see!"
Interrupted by his colleagues' greetings, Director Li angrily looked in the direction they were pointing.
Several streaks of dazzling golden light pierced the room, penetrating his eyes with overwhelming force, reflecting in his constantly trembling pupils.
Director Li looked momentarily stunned: "...What is this?"
"You're not mistaken, that's the materialization of mental energy." The colleague stared at the young face, unsure whether to feel fortunate or envious.
Seeing Xie Xubai walking unhurriedly toward the patient who was bound in place by the golden light, he finally could not suppress the surging waves in his heart and gritted his teeth in hatred.
"He's only in his twenties, and his mental strength is already so strong that it can be solidified? Am I getting old, or is this world just this crazy?"
Director Li hesitated, his expression equally shocked.
Normally, a doctor needs to practice constantly until he is in his forties or fifties to solidify his mental strength, but Xie Xubai was able to do it in his twenties?
What a joke!
Xie Xubai is only so young, just a greenhorn, what kind of trials and tribulations could he have experienced? Did he treat A-level critically ill patients before, or did A-level patients fall down on him every day for him to practice on?
No matter how unwilling they are to accept it, the reality is starkly before them, piercing their hearts.
The younger generation suppressed their fear of the A-level Ghost King and, seeing that the teachers were in a bad mood, quickly comforted them.
"Teacher, who hasn't been young? Weren't you just as spirited and energetic back then?"
"Yes, yes, teacher. You were able to treat Grade A patients on your own more than ten years ago. Aren't you more capable than him?"
"Besides, the patient is only temporarily under control and is not out of danger yet. If the new director can't handle it later, won't we have to rely on you guys to save the day?"
...
At this moment, Xie Xubai paid no attention to the commotion outside, his entire focus was on the patient in front of him.
Indeed, he had faced Ping An and Jiang Kaile in their berserk states. The A-level Ghost King directly overpowered several ordinary A-levels, and his stats once soared to the peak of S-level!
But he never tried to soothe them with his mental power in that situation.
More importantly, Xie Xubai sensed the patient's current suffering.
As the code name "Mud" literally means, the patient was no longer recognizable as human; his entire being resembled a black mud spring constantly gushing mud, in the shape of a pyramid with rounded edges.
She was exceptionally tall; when she stood up, she could even reach the ceiling, which was five meters high.
Its face, limbs, and skin seemed to have melted into the asphalt-like mud, with only a pair of bloodshot eyes filled with terror showing, trembling wildly like a sieve.
The patient's blurred vision caught sight of the white figure on Xie Xubai's body, as if seeing the only light in the darkness. With red eyes, he struggled to come closer.
A huge shadow loomed over Xie Xubai, enveloping his body.
The filthy, sticky sludge fell to the ground, sizzling and emitting white smoke. The titanium alloy floor was corroded, leaving a deep pit!
Those watching from the outside felt as if they were being gripped by invisible claws, and couldn't help but break out in a cold sweat for Xie Xubai.
However, the young man simply stood still, looking up at the patient without moving, as if listening to her story.
"The doctor's voice...is...in...the...pain!"
"Doctor, doctor, I'm in so much pain."
"I... don't want to save... me..."
—Save me, I don't want to become like this.
The golden spiritual energy blocked his path, preventing the patient from advancing any further. Immediately, his pupils dilated, and he let out a hoarse, sorrowful cry.
"Ah—! Ah!"
The cries, accompanied by an overwhelming pressure, seemed capable of piercing eardrums. The less capable medical staff covered their ears, their faces contorted in pain.
At the same time, Xie Xubai finally found the key image in the other party's sea of consciousness.
He closed his eyes and resolutely declared, "Don't cry, you mustn't cry."
"If you just break down like this, what will happen to your child? Can you hear her crying? Can you see her looking for you?"
Black Mud Mountain shuddered, his pained voice gradually turning into anxiety as he frantically searched the empty white examination room: "Nannan? Is my Nannan here? Mommy's here, she's here, Nannan, don't be afraid, ah."
Xie Xubai used his mental power, and golden light gathered in the patient's sea of consciousness, instantly coming into contact with more painful fragments.
The patient's emotions were affected; he stopped walking and began to sob.
Black mud gushed from her eyes, crackling and popping as it scorched black holes in the floor.
"Doctor, I'm so tired, so very tired."
“My husband was paralyzed at home after an accident, my daughter is still young, and my mother has Alzheimer’s. I’m the only one supporting the family.”
"I have to do laundry and cook every day, take care of the elderly and the young, and look after that damn kid who always manages to poop all over the sheets. What am I supposed to do?"
The patient was bent over, unable to straighten his back, his body trembling incessantly, and his cries echoed throughout the room.
"No matter how many times I wash the sheets, they always seem to smell like poop and pee. I have to stretch every penny I have to spend. My mom always forgets things and is always running off. She finally found a new job, but halfway through, she got a call from the neighbor saying that my mom wasn't home—she'd run off again! Ugh! I wish I could tie her up with a rope!"
"I don't want to live anymore. I can't sleep every night, my hair is falling out in clumps, and I keep thinking, why did this have to happen to me? Why did my life turn out like this?"
"I, I... Ahhhhh!"
Through a mental link, Hsieh Hsu-pai can see fragments of the patients' memories.
The memories are presented from the patient's first-person perspective, allowing him to experience the events firsthand.
In the blurry fragments, Xie Xubai saw a somewhat handsome man rush out from behind the door and knock down the abusive old drunkard with a single punch.
Then, the man frantically reached out and dragged the panicked patient, who was clutching his head in terror, out of the dimly lit house and ran towards the sunlit road.
The scene shifts, and Xie Xubai sees the man standing shyly under a large, shady tree.
Flowers bloomed everywhere. The man knelt on one knee, his face flushed with shyness, and proposed with a diamond ring, saying, "I will be good to you for the rest of my life."
Then, Xie Xubai saw a young mother shielding her young patient under her body, enduring the old drunkard's punches and kicks.
Then I saw that mother secretly saving money to buy watercolor paper for the patient, kissing the patient's forehead and saying that her child was a very talented little painter.
Time flies by, like a fleeting moment.
Decades passed in the blink of an eye. When the elderly mother opened the door and saw the patient visiting, her eyes widened in surprise, and she almost burst into tears of joy.
At the end of these fragments of memory, the patient, his eyes glazed over, is dragged out of the hellish old house by a man.
She shyly accepted the man's ring amidst blooming flowers, becoming his wife.
It's a picture of a patient as a child, holding a watercolor pen and drawing innocent pictures on paper. The pictures show a mother laughing with her mouth open and a little girl, a happy family.
Decades later, as he opened the door, he embraced his elderly mother's frail and short body and kissed her withered and wrinkled face.
And her child, the only two able-bodied people in the family.
She would clumsily help her father change the dirty sheets and take her grandmother's hand to lead her home.
They would come over when patients were so tired they were about to collapse, wave their little hands and pat their backs and legs, and blow a breath of air earnestly, saying that all the tiredness had flown away.
...
An overwhelming sense of powerlessness washed over Xie Xubai, and his heart felt as if it were being clenched tightly.
He looked directly into the patient's frantic eyes, his own eyes slightly moist, and whispered, "I know, I know how tired and how much you've suffered."
"The sheets and clothes smell bad, don't they? Mom seems to have become a complete stranger, only causing trouble. My husband can't do anything except lie in bed. No matter how hard the little kids try, they can't help much. Going to school and eating are all problems."
"But what really hurts you is that you want them to live well rather than give up on them, but you can't do it. You can only numb yourself day after day and keep telling yourself to give up."
The patient seemed to be nailed to the spot, his mouth slightly open but unable to make a sound, only black mud falling down in a soft patter.
"Is there any hope for me, doctor?" the patient sobbed, almost collapsing to his knees as if crushed. "They all say there's only one disease in the world, and that's poverty. They're right, they're so right..."
Unexpectedly, Xie Xubai said decisively, "There is hope."
The patient looked up instantly.
“I know a non-profit organization where you can apply for social assistance. Your husband, mother, you and your children can all apply for subsidies as needed. That money is enough for you to maintain your life.”
"And your mother, that charity will soon be opening a department specifically for Alzheimer's patients. Since it's their first time establishing a facility, the application process won't be too long," Xie Xubai said. "I know the person in charge of that organization, and I can help you submit the application form if you need it."
"And your husband, with medical technology so advanced now, it's not impossible for him to stand up again."
The golden spiritual energy, like a gentle giant net, enveloped the patient, gently and meticulously lifting away the thick layer of grime on the surface, allowing it to dissipate in the light.
“You are very capable and persevering. You have carried such a heavy family burden, but you have not been crushed. You are no less capable than anyone else. I know a few jobs that are very suitable for you. You will make a name for yourself.”
Without the oppression of the filth, the patient's body straightened up, staring blankly at the young doctor in front of him.
The doctor smiled at her, a hint of red appearing at the corners of his eyes, glistening with tears just like those of his patients, appearing hazy through his glasses, like the gentle, delicate rain of Jiangnan.
He extended his hand, his voice as gentle as the wind: "As for your child, only her beloved mother can take care of her; no one else can. So, let's go find her now, shall we?"
The patient's throat bobbed incessantly, and he couldn't help but let out another suppressed sob.
The last sludge disappeared with that heart-wrenching sob, and she stretched out her calloused hand, trembling as she grasped Xie Xubai's hand, as if grasping the only remaining light in the world.
Xie Xubai helped her up, ignoring the astonished gazes of the room, and went to the consultation table inside, where he clicked a button.
In an instant, all the medical staff present heard a beep from their phones, an important notification from within the hospital.
They took it out to look at it, still in shock, and suddenly gasped.
[Congratulations to Director Xie on successfully treating a Grade A critically ill patient! 100 points added to your performance evaluation! Perfect score for this period!]
[Important Notice: Dr. Xie is seeing patients today and will accept patients of all levels. Those interested are welcome to register at the window! Reminder: Patients who have already received treatment can change their attending physician midway through their consultation.]
Not only were the other doctors stunned, but several department heads also wanted to curse.
In particular, when Xie Xubai's achievement of treating a Class A critical illness in less than 10 minutes was listed in the system's qualification column, their brows couldn't help but twitch.
The first to start shouting were the interns around them.
The intern looked terrified: "Teacher, my consultation room is empty! They've all gone to register for Dr. Xie's appointment!"
Others exclaimed, "Damn it! My patient too, didn't we agree to treat him tomorrow?"
"What the hell? Stop falling! Stop falling! If it falls any further, it'll be gone!"
"Aaaaaah! Xie Yu, you heartless idiot! Stealing someone else's patient in broad daylight, have you no shame?!"
Author's Note:
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