Chapter 82: Yuan Is Too Difficult (Second Update, Asking for Subscriptions)

Wen Dongfang hadn't asked which subspecialty a student belonged to in a very long time; he had been retired for years, only working in the warehouse, occasionally walking through all the training rooms.

Then, when they had time, a group of old geezers with one foot in the grave would get together and discuss which kid had good aptitude, which kid seemed to have stopped coming — probably graduated and gone somewhere else.

This year a few more young people had arrived; what was their aptitude like?

At his age, how could he possibly care that you, Fang Ziye, are a Master's student in Trauma Surgery, and moreover Yuan Weihong's student, or which training room they saw you in? He only cared whether your aptitude was good or not, when you came, when you hadn't come for a long time, when you stopped coming altogether...

Zhou Ziyu was the other Group Leader Professor in Hand Surgery, and also Associate Professor Li Qi's direct superior.

Li Qi replied, "Teacher, Ziye isn't our Hand Surgery student; he's Trauma Surgery, Yuan Weihong's student."

Associate Professor Li Qi was thirty-eight this year; he had been a Seven-Year Program student before, and happened to be doing his doctorate the year Professor Wen Dongfang turned sixty-three. Although he wasn't Wen Dongfang's doctoral student, Wen Dongfang was fond of Li Qi and often kept him by his side during surgeries.

Li Qi also frequently addressed him as both Master and Teacher.

"Yuan Weihong?"

"Trauma Surgery? Which one is Teacher Yuan Weihong? I'll go find him for a chat." Professor Wen Dongfang said it quite casually.

As if saying, ah, no matter who Yuan Weihong's teacher is, he has a way to transfer Fang Ziye to Hand Surgery.

But as soon as Wen Dongfang said this, both Li Qi and Yang Wenzheng's faces changed abruptly.

Fang Ziye, meanwhile, had both hands nervously pressing his palms against the operating table surface.

Are you sure you want to go find my Grandmaster for a chat?

There's no need for that.

Li Qi hurriedly lowered his voice and replied, "Teacher, Ziye's Grandmaster is Professor Chu; Yuan Weihong is Professor Chu's student."

Meaning, Professor Wen, Professor Chu passed away in the line of duty before retirement; we'd better not chat like this.

Wen Dongfang was a bit confused at the moment; his turbid gaze swept over Fang Ziye up and down a few times.

He merely blanked for a moment, then sighed softly: "Then, then forget it."

After speaking, Wen Dongfang took off his gloves and prepared to walk out of the operating room.

"Professor Wen, what about Fang Ziye then?" Yang Wenzheng thought, Professor Wen, you need to express a stance — such an outstanding student, you're not just going to let him slip away, are you?

"You young people's matters, resolve them yourselves; I'm only responsible for watching outstanding students. If I'm in a good mood, I watch; the rest I don't care about." Wen Dongfang's tone was carefree; he raised his hand slightly and walked out of the operating room.

In fact, in his tone, beneath the carefreeness there was a trace of desolation.

How to put it — people of their generation value inheritance above all; if Fang Ziye weren't the late Professor Chu's disciple's disciple, he would definitely have consulted a few other old geezers about it.

But among the old professors of his generation, only Professor Chu remained; life is unpredictable, and now inheritors in the hospital are extremely scarce.

If they poach people from this lineage back and forth, that would be cutting off the line; that's not how one behaves or does things.

Hearing this, Associate Professor Li Qi still tried to strive: "Ziye, what are your own thoughts?"

"You should understand: if you're willing to come to our Hand Surgery for your doctorate, as long as you have that intention, I have a way to persuade your teacher; moreover, your development prospects in our department are even better."

"Professor Wen's attitude toward you would also be one of extra favoritism."

Truthfully, at this moment, Fang Ziye hesitated; he was tempted.

But the sole reason he dared not waver or answer was his own benefactor-teacher, Yuan Weihong.

Fang Ziye slightly cupped his hands and said, "Professor Li, thank you for your kindness; thank Professor Wen for his regard; and thank you, Brother Zheng, for giving me this opportunity. However, you also know, I currently have a teacher."

"Regardless of graduation destination and choice, one must discuss and inform the teacher — that is the correct choice."

"Professor Li, could you allow me some time to discuss with my teacher?"

Fang Ziye didn't dare refuse directly.

Because he was afraid of being scolded by Yuan Weihong, and didn't dare agree directly either — for the same reason, afraid of being scolded by Yuan Weihong.

Joke — just a few months ago, Fang Ziye and Yuan Weihong were both worrying about the doctorate; if his teacher knew he had a chance to stay at the hospital but directly refused, what if he thought he was an idiot?

Once inside the hospital, transfers between subspecialties are possible; if later Yuan Weihong managed to transfer him from Hand Surgery to his side, but he had refused and thrown away this stepping stone, Yuan Weihong would definitely be angry.

A doctorate is just a tool to get a degree as a stepping stone; staying at the hospital is likewise a path and a choice.

Li Qi didn't make Fang Ziye choose right then, only said: "No rush, think it over; I'll also contact Weihong."

Associate Professor Li Qi is older than Yuan Weihong, with deeper seniority, so he can address him directly as Weihong...

Then, Yang Wenzheng continued treating Fang Ziye, Luo Tingzhu, and Lan Tianluo to a meal, choosing the same restaurant as before, though they went a bit late.

But Yang Wenzheng is a regular gourmet at that restaurant; the seats were still reserved.

This boss knows how to do long-term business; as soon as Yang Wenzheng entered he said, "Boss Yang, you personally called ahead — no matter what, I had to keep them for you, right? What kind of relationship do we have?"

One sentence made Yang Wenzheng feel completely at ease, but in fact, the private rooms and the lobby were still packed full, and people were still queuing outside.

Yang Wenzheng said, "Thanks, Boss, for giving face..."

Fujian Province, Xia City.

Yuan Weihong happened to have finished a small conference, a small session's small report, on this Friday, barely winning applause from peers and superiors without being deliberately made things difficult for; he walked off the stage in a somewhat smug mood.

His student Jie Han, very sensibly, slightly bowed, took Yuan Weihong's computer and held it in hand.

And said, "Master, over there — Hand Surgery's Professor Zhou came, said he specially came to see you."

Academic exchanges require material, require PPTs, but likewise, true academics generally prefer to bring their own computers, to prevent their lecture content from leaking or being copied by others.

Because the material young people like Yuan Weihong present is all new, all unwritten data; a portion of it, once polished, can even be directly lifted into papers.

With Yuan Weihong's cautious personality, he certainly wouldn't feel safe plugging a USB drive into someone else's computer; he brought his own and projected directly.

"Hand Surgery's Professor Zhou?" Yuan Weihong froze for a moment.

"Yes, I asked Senior Brother Sun Shaoqing — that is Hand Surgery's Professor Zhou Ziyu. He's right in the second-to-last row, the seat you were sitting in before, Master." Jie Han nodded, zipping up the laptop bag while invoking Senior Brother Sun Shaoqing to help confirm the identity.

Yuan Weihong was Zhongnan Hospital's speaker representative; professors might not come to support, even students from different groups in the same department might not come, but his own group's students like Jie Han and Sun Shaoqing would certainly come to help drum up applause.

To avoid the venue going cold — this counts as filling seats.

Yuan Weihong thus walked toward Professor Zhou Ziyu with Jie Han; upon clearly seeing it was indeed Professor Zhou Ziyu, Yuan Weihong slightly bowed, both hands extended forward: "Professor Zhou!"

Zhou Ziyu also extended both hands: "Weihong, I watched the case you just shared — the quality of the data analysis and the PPT quality of every single page were very high."

"All done strictly according to international case-sharing format; almost every page has literature search support. Weihong, your academic work is quite good?"

Zhou Ziyu's face was slightly long, his eyebrows like knives, his voice rather muffled, yet he did not lose his demeanor. His words of encouragement were also apt and to the point, not empty, casual praise.

After Yuan Weihong and Zhou Ziyu's hands loosened slightly, he smoothed his suit jacket and leaned in a little closer: "Professor Zhou, it's mainly because the teachers taught well; we also tried our best to learn properly, to avoid embarrassing ourselves in front of our peers."

"At an occasion this grand, the professors' eyes are all very sharp, their knowledge broad; if I expressed a view without a paper to back it up, I'd be afraid of being questioned and left speechless, so I could only do more homework in advance."

"Did Professor Zhou come over to give some instruction?"

"Actually, a phone call or a message would have sufficed." Yuan Weihong wore a full face of apologetic smiles; although he was a master's supervisor, facing a professor of chief physician rank, he still needed to be cautious and humble.

Because his own academic foundation and professional foundation were at least one whole level below a professor's.

Although Zhongnan Hospital's Hand Surgery wasn't as awesome as Trauma Surgery, with such formidable strength, he was still a professor, and Yuan Weihong wasn't Deng Yong — he didn't dare be negligent.

"It's like this, Weihong, I came this time to discuss a matter with you..."

Zhou Ziyu explained clearly some of the things Li Qi had reported to him, then continued: "Weihong, as teachers, we still shouldn't have too narrow a vision; you see, Ziye indeed has intentions of leaning toward our Hand Surgery direction."

"He has also put in a lot of time and effort, and by now has done sufficient preliminary preparation; in digital artery replantation, he already has quite good attainment; with a little cultivation and guidance, he can directly get started on a portion of our Hand Surgery's finger replantation operations."

"This is very rare; I feel that since Ziye has this willingness, why don't we respect the children's wishes? I can go and have a good talk with Professor Deng."

"Ziye is only twenty-seven this year, and can already achieve over ninety percent success in mouse micro-artery replantation; the hardship and toil behind this need not be spoken of by me."

"Of course, I will definitely respect your wishes!" Zhou Ziyu remained polite and dignified, not directly pressuring him.

To tell the truth, after Zhou Ziyu spoke like this, Yuan Weihong was stunned on the spot; beside him, Jie Han, hearing what Zhou Ziyu said, was like the Empty Daoist from Dream of the Red Chamber — brain empty, spirit empty.

At this moment he really wanted to hang his voice on "awesome."

But he didn't dare speak.

Yuan Weihong's eyeballs rolled cleverly several circles before he said: "Professor Zhou, what you speak of, I indeed have not heard of it; Ziye also hasn't mentioned such an idea to me."

"However, the past two days, people in our department did report to me that Ziye has indeed improved quite a bit recently, and is doing closed reductions in the department, and can even identify irreducible shoulder dislocations."

"Jie Han, has your senior brother ever expressed to you the intention of going to Hand Surgery for a PhD?"

Jie Han naturally shook his head: "No, Master."

Then he smiled at Professor Zhou Ziyu.

But Zhou Ziyu naturally knew that Yuan Weihong and Jie Han singing in harmony like this was a performance for him to see.

"Weihong, such an intention certainly isn't easy to state outright, right? Then you tell me, if he didn't want to develop toward Hand Surgery, why would Ziye practice suturing technique to such depth? That's unnecessary, isn't it?"

"Of course, that's just what I mean; Weihong, you can consider it; right now Ziye's embryo in our Hand Surgery is already like uncut jade — with a little polishing, he can become an excellent hand surgeon."

"You needn't rush to reply; you can discuss it properly with Director Deng Yong." Zhou Ziyu smiled and patted Yuan Weihong's shoulder.

Then, Zhou Ziyu shifted the topic, mainly asking whether Yuan Weihong had a chance at opportunities like the National Outstanding Youth Fund, his gaze far-reaching, and encouraged him a few sentences.

After Zhou Ziyu left, Yuan Weihong's mood was slightly a bit furious.

But he also didn't dare directly converse with Fang Ziye.

One sentence from Zhou Ziyu was clear: if Fang Ziye had no intention of developing toward Hand Surgery, he certainly wouldn't need to practice suturing technique to such a profound level.

Digital replantation — in the entire Trauma Surgery, besides a professor-level figure like Professor Deng Yong and Associate Professor Xie Jinyuan, who has this ability in suturing technique?

Associate Professor Peng Long of Professor Han Yuanxiao's group and Associate Professor Chen Fang of Professor Dong Yaohui's group don't have it either.

This is really strange.

Yuan Weihong didn't dare be negligent; regarding Fang Ziye's subsequent planning, recently in Xia City he had already exchanged views and explored with Professor Deng Yong.

The groundwork had only just been laid properly, how did such a pole suddenly come and stab straight into Yuan Weihong's heart — and it was a professor personally coming forward to discuss with Yuan Weihong.

When Yuan Weihong found Professor Deng Yong, Professor Deng Yong was the conference chairman of a sub-venue's second afternoon session; he simply had no time to pay attention to Yuan Weihong.

Not until 5:30 PM, after it ended, did Yuan Weihong wait to meet Professor Deng Yong as he came down from the stage.

And he told Professor Deng Yong about Professor Zhou Ziyu's matter.

Also saying: "Professor Deng, I indeed didn't know about this matter, and am not particularly clear on Fang Ziye's thoughts, but I feel Professor Zhou Ziyu's analysis makes sense."

Professor Deng Yong then said: "During the time I just served as host, I received messages from three people."

"One is Tingzhu; Tingzhu said, today Fang Ziye was borrowed by Yang Wenzheng to the Hand Surgery training room, performed a digital artery replantation surgery, the result was very good; Yang Wenzheng directly called the department's associate professors and even Hand Surgery's Professor Wen Dongfang into the training room."

"The suturing result was very good."

"The second is a message from Hand Surgery's Director Ni, hoping I would consider letting Fang Ziye go to Hand Surgery."

"The third message comes from my benefactor, Old Professor Li; you know, my master is a tiny bit younger than Old Professor Wen, probably four or five years difference in age."

"When they worked, Hand Surgery and Trauma Surgery hadn't completely split yet. My teacher's meaning is: if Ziye has this willingness, we should not obstruct him."

"Young people have it hard; Fang Ziye's growth, many old professors have seen with their own eyes, and he even got mixed up with the nickname 'Step by Step High'."

"Every single message, I haven't had time to process yet." Deng Yong finished, scratched his head, feeling a bit mentally tired.

Because whether it was Hand Surgery's Administrative Director Professor Ni Yaoping, or his own benefactor Old Professor Li, or Old Professor Wen Dongfang, Deng Yong didn't dare easily refute or refuse any of them.

Yuan Weihong went dumb on the spot, his back shrinking back slightly: "How come even Old Professor Wen and Old Professor Li know about this, and came out to act as intermediaries?"

A single Professor Zhou Ziyu, Hand Surgery's chief physician, already left him a bit at a loss; now two orthopedics elder-level figures were involved.

Yuan Weihong's scalp even felt faintly numb.

How could a perfectly good meeting turn out like this — feeling his heart would be gouged out, and just like that, gouged away?

"Right now most people in the department aren't here; all our Trauma Surgery's deputy chief physicians and above came to Xia City; Hand Surgery at most only left one deputy chief physician."

"For Yang Wenzheng to verify Fang Ziye's suturing level, besides disturbing the old professors, what other way could there be?" Deng Yong sighed softly.

"This matter, you directly contact Ziye yourself; don't avoid suspicion anymore, just directly ask him what his own thoughts are."

"Our hospital's Hand Surgery, the current young generation, indeed has a slight generation gap; I heard before that even Li Qi has been promoted to deputy chief physician for a long time, yet is still on the clinical front line."

"No attending physician can hold the fort; if Fang Ziye is truly willing to go to Hand Surgery, us doing a good deed is also not impossible." Professor Deng Yong's analysis was quite comprehensive.

The annual meeting ended at 5:30 PM, concluding all meeting proceedings for the day.

When Yuan Weihong left the venue, he was thoroughly listless, not a bit happy because he had participated in a small venue as a speaker.

After much hesitation, Yuan Weihong had Jie Han go back to the hotel first, and take the computer too. He, on the other hand, needed to calm his mood a little; Yuan Weihong planned to go walk by the sea.

However, just as Yuan Weihong got into the taxi, a message rang on his phone, from Fang Ziye.

Fang Ziye's first sentence was to ask Yuan Weihong whether the meeting had already ended.

Then the estimated information appeared to be pre-written, and he very objectively reported the course of today's events.

Only then did he ask again: "Master, I don't know how to choose right now, just afraid of choosing wrong. Wasting the opportunity."

"My own intention actually is, I still want to follow you, Master, continue reading for a doctorate and then stay at the hospital to work, but now Hand Surgery has a good opportunity, and I'm also afraid that if I miss it, there will be no opportunity in the future to work together with you, Teacher, and help out."

"But if there's a high probability of staying at the hospital, then even if Clinical isn't in the same place, we can still be in the same research project group..."

Listening to everyone's opinions, I'll make the chapters slightly smaller, convenient for everyone to read. But if they're too short, I actually can't write smoothly any content.

Xiao Yu's coding speed is not fast, can only say I'll try my best to maintain quality assured, like on-shelf day that kind of forty thousand words, that definitely doesn't exist, even if a person wrote themselves to death there wouldn't be, I'll try my best to maintain at least six thousand to ten thousand or so updates.

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(Chapter End)