Chapter 1109: 1080 What Price Should We Give Zheng Lao Ban?

Professor Rudolf Wagner felt a bit glum, but he knew that if he persisted, he likely wouldn't even get a chance to hit Gai De with the hemostatic forceps.

One is one; I must widen my eyes and give it my all. Let Gai De, this old rival, painfully struggle under the blows of my hemostatic forceps! His wails will become my eternal wonderful memory!

After discussion on this side, they finally arrived at a method everyone could accept. Hu Yan Hui eagerly contacted Peng Jia, saying they wanted to do many live‑broadcast teaching surgeries, and the Xinglin Yuan side needed a lot of promotion.

Professor Rudolf Wagner then went straight to Gai De's side and scolded, "Go scrub and disinfect—do you expect me to do these things for you? How old are you? Don't you know this basic rule?!"

Professor Gai De· Mu Le glared angrily, but there was nothing he could do; just moments ago Rudolf Wagner had done everything from start to finish, keeping his posture extremely low, just like Doctor Zheng's assistant.

There were still thirty patients ahead, meaning I would have to do it thirty times.

When was the last time I disinfected and laid out the surgical drape? Professor Gai De· Mu Le felt a bit dazed. How should I do it? It's been too long; I have to think through the basic procedure to perform it flawlessly.

He didn't want to be mocked by Rudolf Wagner just from laying the drape—that tyrant would surely laugh at him for years over this!

He carefully scrubbed and disinfected, layering the sterile sheets. Every motion he made as perfect as possible, so Rudolf Wagner could find no fault.

"Boss, this is too slow, isn't it?" the professor complained to Zheng Ren.

Indeed it was a bit slow, but it didn't seem like much; Zheng Ren rested his hand on his forehead and thought.

Time trickled by.

……

Peng Jia arrived at the airport, changed his ticket, and flew straight to Frankfurt. As he prepared to board, just after security his phone rang wildly again. He felt helpless—his business kept growing, but he grew busier, and even security wasn't quiet.

The person on the other end was insistent; the ringing continued until Peng Jia passed security. He was annoyed—who could this be, calling him nonstop?

He picked up the phone and saw it was Hu Yan Hui calling; Peng Jia felt surprised. Weren't we just done talking? Why is she calling again?

He dared not delay and answered immediately.

"Little Hu, what's up?"

"Manager Peng, Zheng Lao Ban wants to do thirty live‑broadcast teaching surgeries." Although Hu Yan Hui lowered her voice, the joy bursting out came straight through the phone.

Peng Jia was a bit dazed.

Before we said we'd only do one live‑broadcast surgery, but now it's suddenly turned into thirty teaching‑surgery broadcasts?!

"You… say that again!" Peng Jia stifled his inner excitement and said in a low voice.

"Manager Peng, it's thirty live‑broadcast teaching surgeries!" Hu Yan Hui replied cheerfully.

"……" The happiness came too suddenly, and Peng Jia went completely blank.

Leaving aside the teaching‑surgery live broadcasts, just thirty TIPS surgeries—such a huge number—would be enough to make the live‑stream traffic explode and cause those venture capitalists to bleed again.

"Manager Peng?" Hu Yan Hui, hearing no response on the other end, whispered, "I suggest we do more promotion."

Peng Jia thought, Do I even need you to say that? But this little Hu is truly my luckiest employee—she said she'd give it a try, and I never expected it to lead straight to thirty live‑broadcast teaching surgeries.

Could it be that Zheng Lao Ban likes Hu Yan Hui?

Impossible—Peng Jia immediately dismissed the idea. He had seen Xie Yiren; with any basic sense of aesthetics, he wouldn't make such a choice.

Just… Hu Yan Hui's luck really is good.

Promotion!

Raise!

So good, such a capable employee—why even consider it? Peng Jia unhesitatingly credited the achievement to Hu Yan Hui.

Some people work hard their whole lives and still struggle to earn their boss's recognition, a promotion, and a raise; whereas Hu Yan Hui, having done almost nothing, gets promoted and raised time and again.

People, they really are different.

After Peng Jia and Hu Yan Hui exchanged a few words, he hung up and began assigning tasks to the company's relevant middle management.

This matter is a major affair for Xinglin Yuan—the biggest of them all.

He didn't put his phone away until the plane was taxiing.

Time is still too tight; I'm going to Heidelberg and must have a good talk with Zheng Lao Ban. At the very least I need to confirm a long‑term cooperative relationship, and if it can be exclusive, all the better.

With countless things on his mind, Peng Jia had not a trace of sleepiness.

What to do, what to say to Zheng Lao Ban—he thought up countless plans, then discarded them all.

All the way to Frankfurt, Peng Jia's brain never stopped thinking. Yet he didn't feel tired; this is a big deal, and once it's done there will be plenty of time to rest—there's no rush.

After getting off the plane, Peng Jia first opened his phone. Unfortunately the signal was poor, and he simply couldn't access Xinglin Yuan.

At this point, not knowing how the teaching‑surgery live broadcast was going, Peng Jia felt anxious inside.

Immediately, he dialed the deputy director of the Supervisor Information department.

"It's me—how's the live broadcast?" Peng Jia asked anxiously.

Afterward, Peng Jia remained silent the whole way, saying nothing, while the little assistant beside him looked somewhat worried.

Manager Peng was like a walking corpse—he left the airport, turned off his phone, and then stared blankly ahead.

If it weren't for the little assistant guiding him like a seeing‑eye dog, Peng Jia would surely have gotten lost in Frankfurt's streets and alleys.

"Manager Peng." The assistant called out intermittently, but only on the thirty‑third try did Peng Jia frown and say, "You say, what kind of price should I give Zheng Lao Ban?"

"Huh?" The assistant blinked. What does this have to do with that? Giving Zheng Lao Ban a price? Isn't there already an agreement?

"Zheng Lao Ban is too capable; if I set the price low, I'm afraid he won't agree. But if I set it too high, it seems inappropriate." Peng Jia felt troubled—his own resources were meager, incomparable to those big hospitals.

Mayo Clinic pays Zheng Lao Ban several thousand dollars per surgery. At that price, even if beaten to death Peng Jia couldn't bring himself to charge it. Once in a while he'd grit his teeth and accept it, but making it routine, Xinglin Yuan would surely not be able to sustain it.

Zheng Lao Ban is no longer the inexperienced Inpatient Chief of Hai Cheng; after this trip back from Mayo Clinic and Heidelberg, he's likely to step onto a whole new stage of life.

But as for me, it's simply too agonizing—a happy kind of agony.

For this sort of thing, the assistant couldn't give an answer. Peng Jia was just speaking off the cuff and didn't expect to get one.

Just now the deputy director of Supervisor Information said the surgery live broadcast had, for the first time ever, surpassed twenty thousand concurrent viewers!

More than half of them were overseas paying users.

After getting off the plane and switching to a train, accustomed to high‑speed rail, riding this slow‑moving train made Peng Jia's heart feel like it was about to burst from impatience.

He really wished he could turn into a small bird and fly straight to Heidelberg.