Chapter 1: Small-Town Test-Taker (Seeking Favorites)

Hubei Province, Han City.

In the eighth month the heat scorches; Fire City is sweltering like something charred.

Zhongnan Hospital Affiliated to Han City University, Trauma Surgery Outpatient Clinic. The central air-conditioning blows thick and strong, whooshing as it drives away the heat.

Fang Ziye stands at the consultation room doorway, his hair stirring in the breeze; right now he slips his dark-blue click-action fountain pen into the left chest pocket of his white coat.

He pushes the door open, looks out, then turns back and says, "Master, there are no more patients outside; the ones who went for tests probably won't get results until tomorrow."

It is already 5:23 p. m., seven minutes until the clinic closes at 5:30.

Yuan Weihong, sitting at the clinic computer, leans back, right elbow propped on the yellow-lacquered wooden chair, legs crossed in an eight-character stance, eyes narrowing: "Ziye, when will your paper be published?"

Yuan Weihong is Fang Ziye's master's supervisor; a standard square face, his hairline already at least four centimeters from his eyebrows.

The master's stage requires publishing a paper to meet graduation requirements; otherwise, delayed graduation.

"Master, it was accepted in May; publication will probably be around October. CSCD journals have a long timeline from acceptance to print." Fang Ziye lowers his head, tidying his white coat as he speaks.

As a professional master's student in Trauma Surgery at Zhongnan Hospital Affiliated to Han City University, merely publishing one CSCD (Chinese core journal) paper to graduate, Fang Ziye's voice is thin as a mosquito's.

He wrote two English papers; one was rejected countless times after the manuscript was finished, the other just finished and was only sent to his teacher for revision.

An English paper — only when it appears in print does it count as SCI; otherwise it is just an English composition.

Now the second year of his master's has ended, he has entered the third academic year; graduation is near!

If he cannot publish an SCI, and does not publish a Chinese core journal paper soon, he will face delayed graduation.

Yuan Weihong seems able to read Fang Ziye's mind: "Being published by October would already be good."

"Good enough is fine; no need to care about face in other people's mouths."

Yuan Weihong knows Fang Ziye is not lazy, that he is steady and not vain, so he does not apply too much pressure. Aptitude is personal fortune; not everyone can walk smoothly into a major hospital.

"Ever thought about a doctorate? Only the two of us are here. I heard you just want to find a job." Yuan Weihong asks quietly.

Fang Ziye hurriedly looks up, his gaze tinged with bitterness; with his benefactor-teacher before him, Fang Ziye nods lightly. He dare not speak.

A doctorate is the best path for a medical student to rise above.

But the most important thing in the master's stage is research output — papers; more precisely, SCI quantity and quality. He currently has not published a single paper; how dare he say he wants a doctorate in front of others in the department?

Rely on Liang Jingru's courage? Become a laughingstock for others to watch?

Doctoral programs do not organize a unified exam; they are all autonomous admissions by the school.

An even harsher way to put it: the supervisor admits autonomously; whoever he wants gets in, whoever he doesn't — even if you whistleblow it's useless!

With one CSCD, trying to compete in the doctoral assessment is undoubtedly seeking death in a battle of immortals, and bringing humiliation on oneself!

"Is the graduation thesis already being written?" Everyone's life is different. Yuan Weihong simply changes the topic; his tone sounds as if he only hopes his first student can graduate smoothly.

Yuan Weihong is only an attending physician at the hospital, promoted to master's supervisor just three years ago; promotion to doctoral supervisor is still far off.

Therefore, even though Yuan Weihong finds Fang Ziye reliable and wants to keep him by his side, he is powerless!

Zhongnan Hospital's first hiring requirement — doctorate, master's, and undergraduate degree and diploma — would choke Fang Ziye dead.

"Almost finished, Master; at the latest I can send it to you this weekend." Fang Ziye nods in reply, voice a little louder; he absolutely dares not be the slightest bit careless with the thesis draft.

Less than a year remains until the graduation defense; if the first draft isn't handed to his own teacher now, who could cover for him if problems arise at graduation?

Compared to the unattainable doctorate, the more urgent matter is the more realistic graduation problem!

Otherwise, if he happens to be selected for external blind review, by the time he wants to go back and properly do the thesis, it will be too late!

"Send it to me as soon as it's done; I'll give it a thorough revision."

"How has your health been lately? Half a month ago you still fainted in the training room." Yuan Weihong switches to crossing his legs, arms folded across his chest, looking Fang Ziye up and down.

Fang Ziye is not tall, about 1.78 meters, his whole person clean and neat, looking quite refined.

But medicine — especially surgery — is the industry that least relies on looks to make a living!

Seeing the talk turn daily, Fang Ziye returns a smile: "No problem, Master; that time was probably just low blood sugar."

"Now my diet and schedule are especially regular."

The training room is the Skill Training Center the hospital spent heavily to build; the Orthopedics major specialty has a skill training room floor inside, provided for this hospital's resident physicians, master's students, doctoral students, and this hospital's doctors to practice skills.

Yuan Weihong thinks for a moment, purses his lips and says: "The doctorate matter — the highest-quality, simplest way is to study hard and write papers seriously."

"This is far more reliable than passing out of the training room. Even though that is our hospital's Blue Ladder."

"But compared to passing out of the training room, writing papers is the fastest shortcut."

In Zhongnan Hospital's skill training rooms, there are different skill training rooms; this hospital's resident physicians need only pay a small maintenance fee to use them.

Fang Ziye, as this hospital's master's student, naturally can go too.

Moreover, whether it's the Orthopedics Chief Director or the Orthopedics Director, both have explicitly stated their position!

You may write papers poorly, but your surgical talent must be good enough; then we can also give you a chance.

As long as you can walk out of the First Training Room following the different stages, standardized training students are arranged for graduate study, master's students arranged for doctorate, doctoral students arranged for employment!

Of course, if you write papers well and have high research output, that naturally also allows arrangement for doctorate and employment.

But if both research and professional operation are hopeless? Then no one will pity you.

The opportunity has always been placed right here, as clearly priced as a vegetable market.

Fang Ziye's gaze flickers at the words. He exhales, takes off his white coat, like Kong Yiji taking off his long robe, and explains resignedly: "Master, I just want to practice basic skills more, learn surgery well, so that later working at a prefecture-level city hospital will be a bit easier."

"After going to work, there won't be such a good place as the training room for us to practice."

Fang Ziye is just from an ordinary small-town family; his undergraduate grades were middling, he barely got into a 211. When taking the postgraduate entrance exam he got lucky; his written exam ranking was decent.

He entered the old-brand 985 university Han City University...

Now it seems his luck has run out; after two years, professional operation is so-so, only middling; research output can only hold the bottom line!

"If you really want a doctorate, quietly go outside and look for a chance..." Yuan Weihong suggests somewhat reluctantly.

He himself is not a doctoral supervisor.

"Okay, Master." Fang Ziye nods.

He glanced sideways at a panel only he could see, thoughtful—

【Physician Level: Resident Physician.】

【Medical Basic Theory: Surgery Level 2 13/50, Orthopedics Level 2 17/50, Trauma Surgery Level 2 29/50……】

【Medical Basic Operational Skills: Incision Level 1 18/20, Suturing Level 1 17/20, Debridement Level 1 15/20, Hemostasis Level 1 15/20……】

【Current Knowledge Points: 5.】

"Off work." Yuan Weihong checked the time, pointed to five-thirty, then started to close the computer, preparing to announce his departure; he was a person with an extremely strong sense of time……

(Chapter End)