Chapter 1228: 1193 Even as a Ghost I Won't Let You Go (Alliance Leader sueyee12 Bonus Chapter 1)

"Is the family really preparing to give up?" Zheng Ren still couldn't believe it.

"The diagnosis isn't clear, the condition is rather special, Director Zhang can't make up his mind. The cardiology department suggests observation and some other tests." Su Yun spread her hands, "Since they can't decide, the family has decided it's because of something unclean, and they directly demand to give up."

"Sigh." Zheng Ren let out a breath.

"The patient's father said that, but his partner disagrees and absolutely won't let him be discharged." Su Yun said, "The one crying outside is the patient's partner. It's said they've already come to blows; if discharged, they'd go home to wait for death, and the partner says they'll set the house on fire so the whole family dies together."

"……" So fierce? Zheng Ren was speechless.

"If they die, the whole family dies together, neat and tidy." Su Yun sneered, "Those are the patient's partner's exact words."

Zheng Ren was speechless; this kind of family conflict, he really didn't want to get involved. No matter how deeply or superficially doctors speak, most of the time the family reconciles happily, and the doctors who get involved never know when they've been sold out.

"Director Zhang has something troubling her this afternoon; she also has to go pick up Dr. Mei Ha'er together." Su Yun suddenly laughed.

"Pick up?" Zheng Ren thought, what business does she have with her?

"Dr. Mei Ha'er and his wife are leading figures in cardiology; Director Zhang's teacher is a student of the doctor's wife, so we need to go pick them up." Su Yun said.

"This matter is really a headache." Zheng Ren said expressionlessly, then turned to leave.

"You're not planning to go take a look?"

"If it's about treating illness or surgery, I have no objection. But the family has a clear disagreement—what do you want me to do?" Zheng Ren said.

What Zheng Ren said was right; Su Yun also had no good solution. Besides, he isn't the attending doctor for that patient—going to the bedside to point fingers? That would be nonsense.

In short, nobody has a good solution.

Zheng Ren just took a look, didn't see the patient's system diagnosis; the family opposes treatment, why waste that effort?

"All right, go back and prepare a bit—have you finished organizing the TIPS surgery data?" Zheng Ren asked.

"By the time you remember, the cucumber dish will be cold." Su Yun said disdainfully, "I've sent it to your email; when you have time, take a look so you can tell Dr. Mei Ha'er."

"There's nothing to say, just adding trouble. If Dr. Charles can't do it, why would you think I can?" Zheng Ren said lightly.

Regarding the Nobel Prize, it's not awarded for clinical techniques—that's the "rule," an unwritten rule; Zheng Ren didn't think he could solve this by himself.

Whether or not one can win the Nobel Prize, frankly it doesn't matter.

Even if one could win, it would take ten or several decades; by then there would be worries and joys of that time—who knows what the situation would be?

The two walked and talked, slowly down the hallway outside the ICU ward. Behind them footsteps sounded; Director Zhang of cardiology strode past with his subordinates, energetic and vigorous, his steps bringing wind.

Cardiology is always like that; Zheng Ren knew.

If we talk about emergency and rescue, cardiology could rank alongside the emergency department as the hospital's best. It's even more urgent than emergency—walking without wind is impossible. This is a habit formed over many years, impossible to change.

Zheng Ren deliberately slowed his steps; he didn't want to greet Director Zhang. Like the director of gastroenterology, Luo, it's a department he must pay respects to—he'd go even holding his nose. But cardiology doesn't overlap with his current work, so Zheng Ren doesn't want to talk much with people.

Hollow pleasantries are boring.

Su Yun could sense what Zheng Ren was thinking, especially despising this guy. In just one month he actually managed to connect with the 912 related departments—truly his luck is heaven-defying.

Director Zhang changed clothes and walked out of the ICU doors. As soon as the door opened, the faint outside sounds became a bit clearer.

A woman held a boy, pointing at an elderly man about sixty with graying hair opposite her, shouting angrily.

Listening gave Zheng Ren a headache; fortunately it wasn't his patient, so he hurried back to read some books and materials—Dr. Mei Ha'er would still come in the afternoon. Although he wasn't interested in the Nobel Prize, some things still needed to be said.

One must always have ideals; what if they actually come true?

Su Yun, however, believed it readily, changing clothes while looking outside.

Director Zhang went to mediate, but it had no effect at all; the more he tried, the more chaotic it became.

As the argument went on, the patient's partner cried terribly, holding the child and sitting on the ground, looking rather pitiful. Zheng Ren saw many people, didn't think much, pushed through the crowd, and was about to return to the intervention department.

"Child, I'm not unwilling to save him—Xiao Zhi is your husband and also my son, flesh and blood." The old man spoke while weeping, "The masters all said this is fate. His older brother passed away the same way the year before last, and now we've run into exactly the same situation—what can I do?"

"I don't care! Even if we lose everything, my daughter and I will beg for food just to get treatment!" The woman screamed hysterically, her emotions overwrought, already fallen into a state of madness.

"Boss, do you think this illness resembles Zou Jia Hua's?" Su Yun suddenly asked.

Family history, ventricular fibrillation, cardiac arrest—quite similar, but not as severe as Zou Jia Hua's. If Zou Jia Hua didn't have money, a few ER doctors monitoring him 24/7 nonstop, he'd probably already be dead.

"Who says money isn't good? Often it really can buy life." Zheng Ren shook his head, just about to say something, when suddenly a commotion erupted behind him; he turned to see the woman holding the child opening the window, already having climbed up.

"I'll bring this kid and die right here today!" The woman had gone mad, her eyes wide and round, the corners of her eyes slightly split, a trickle of blood flowing down.

Zheng Ren's heart tightened, his blood pressure spiked, his heart rate instantly jumped to 120 beats per minute.

With a thought, he shifted his steps sideways; at that moment he saw Su Yun making the same move, hidden in the crowd, moving in the same direction as him.

Zheng Ren shifted his body, moving in another direction.

At the same time, Su Yun made exactly the same motion.

"Can't you not be so in sync?" Zheng Ren wanted to cry but had no tears. The woman stood on the windowsill, holding the child with both hands, not holding onto the frame at all. Outside, the wind wailed; her body swayed, ready to fall at any moment.

The child was small, only two or three years old, with a dazed look at the surroundings, still unaware of what was happening.

Zheng Ren and Su Yun exchanged a glance, their eyes crossing; one went left, the other right—this time they chose the correct direction.

"Come down, don't be impulsive!" Director Zhang shouted anxiously.

It was a mess; nobody could hear what was being said.

The woman's expression was firm, one hand holding the child, the other pointing at the old man, her voice sharp, hair blown loose by the wind, like a vengeful ghost: "When I die, I'll come looking for you every day to see how your master saves you!"

Having said that, she moved her body and was about to jump down.