Chapter 1355: 1315 Not Wanting to Miss a Hundred Million (Sect Master's Tea-Drinking Pig Bonus Chapter)

The surgery ended, Su Yun lazily sat on the podium of the stepped lecture hall, explaining in Chinese the questions of dozens of experts and professors.

Zhou Chun Yong felt faint on stage; although he didn't see it, he clearly felt the change in technique before and after, knowing something was wrong there. Director Zhou looked stalwart, but interventional surgery inevitably requires wearing dozens of pounds of lead clothing.

Besides, the boss simply has no habit of eating meals……

Thinking of this, Su Yun laughed.

He exhausted Zhou Chun Yong to low blood sugar; who knows how many more people will end up with low blood sugar in the future.

Despite countless questions, Su Yun remained calmly seated, unhurriedly answering them one by one.

Each time he hit the point, leaving the questioner lost in thought.

In less than half an hour, everyone fell silent; some looked enlightened, others were deep in thought.

Su Yun's phone rang; he glanced at it and answered.

"Feng, what's wrong?"

"Oh, the boss wants to take Heizi along too, alright. I actually forgot this matter—have you made all the arrangements?"

"Fine, then it's settled."

Su Yun didn't deliberately control his volume, nor did he turn off the microphone in front of him, just chatting on the phone loudly and casually.

This is the privilege of a technical superior; Su Yun greatly enjoys this feeling.

Below the stage, more than a dozen directors closely tied to Zhou Chun Yong all showed thoughtful expressions. It was obvious that Boss Zheng was going to Flying Knife.

Meanwhile, the simultaneous translators behind the twenty-plus foreign experts also translated Su Yun's recent phone conversation.

12.35 seconds later, a Swiss expert stood up and asked, "May I ask, Doctor Zheng, are you going elsewhere to perform surgery?"

"Yes, tomorrow's flight." Su Yun replied lazily.

Having watched twenty surgeries, the many experts and professors were still unsatisfied; upon hearing there was another surgery, they immediately began asking where it would be done.

These people all understand surgery. Their technical levels vary, but the gap is not large.

Two domestic directors were a bit lacking in skill and didn't quite grasp it. If no one competed, they would just muddle through.

It would be enough to invite Director Zhou to Flying Knife; there's no need for us to insist on learning it ourselves.

But the scene before them far exceeded their expectations. They wanted to leave, yet seeing the foreign experts and domestic colleagues all intending to follow, they hesitated.

If they didn't go, it would feel like missing out on a hundred million.

The desire to go learn and the fear of missing out on a hundred million sprouted, incubated, fermented, and then burst forth.

Su Yun had no time to deal with these people; they were just NPCs opening a map. After the surgery ended and the Q&A was over, the fees collected were considered explained; the rest was none of his business.

As for whether they'll do TIPS surgery when they go back, it doesn't matter much. The second batch of learners have already been spamming Zheng Ren with emails like crazy; future batches of three or five will likewise have nothing to worry about.

He pocketed his phone, wrote the address of this Flying Knife trip on the blackboard, gave no further explanation, and walked straight out of the stepped lecture hall.

The moment he left, the stepped lecture hall began to boil over.

The simultaneous interpreters booked plane tickets for the foreign experts.

Only 12 hours away, flights to that side are scarce, and no seats remain.

After an argument, that Swiss professor picked up his phone, dialed the Di Du consulate, and sought help.

His action reminded the others.

More than twenty foreign experts and professors belong to nine different countries.

At this moment, Di Du itself trembled slightly.

The ambassadors of the nine consulates stationed in China almost simultaneously received assistance calls from domestic medical experts; they recorded the matter and then dialed the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

Radio waves transmitted above Di Du; the demonstration surgery had already become a diplomatic incident, though Zheng Ren had no idea how lively it was.

Stepping down from the stage, he comforted Zhou Chun Yong with a couple of words, agreed to meet in his office, and then followed Zhu Liangchen to examine a patient with gastric artery embolism.

"Boss Zheng, the streptococcus you mentioned really showed up in the test." Zhu Liangchen walked and talked, introducing the patient's condition.

"Hmm." Zheng Ren responded.

In his view, detecting it was expected; failing to detect it would be a major issue!

"Indeed, I wasn't paying attention; my clinical work has been careless." Zhu Liangchen began self-criticism, "Now the patient's hematochezia has disappeared, and we are following your orders to carry out the relevant treatment."

"Then continue." Zheng Ren said: "One week after surgery, get an abdominal CT and send the images for me to look at."

Zheng Ren resembled a director, while Zhu Liangchen resembled a resident; one issued orders, the other constantly acknowledged them.

"Boss Zheng, how should we actually perform surgery on this kind of patient?" Zhu Liangchen probed.

"I haven't given it much thought." Zheng Ren spoke frankly, "My side has been swamped lately; Dr. Mei Ha'er's heart surgery is done, and in two days I still need to do a prostate interventional embolization. I have no time to accompany you; I'll fly to Inner Mongolia tomorrow."

Zhu Liangchen harbored slight resentment, but dared not voice it.

He accompanied with a smile, leading the way. His waist slightly bent, he was exceedingly diligent—no trace remained of the former Zhu Lao Wu.

The two first examined the patient's recent lab tests; Zheng Ren had a rough idea, then proceeded to physical examination.

Cross-checking physical examination with system diagnosis, the patient's bleeding risk had indeed temporarily disappeared.

"Director Zhu, the patient is relatively stable, but medication must still be taken for a period." Zheng Ren said in the ward.

The young patient's mother looked astonished at the slightly gray‑haired Zhu Liangchen's waist slightly bent, while the young doctor beside him bore a dignified demeanor, issuing instructions like a director.

She found it strange, but said nothing.

"Boss Zheng, I've noted it down." Zhu Liangchen held a notebook and wrote down Zheng Ren's words with a ballpoint pen.

It felt as if he had returned to twenty or thirty years ago, when he was a young doctor making rounds with the director.

Zheng Ren then gave a few more points to watch for, and he and Zhu Liangchen left together.

The patient's mother stared for a moment; "Boss Zheng?" That name sounds so familiar.

She racked her brains, but in the end couldn't recall where she had heard of this Boss Zheng before.

"Mom, I don't want to eat dinner tonight." The girl said coquettishly.

"No, Director Zhu said to drink less porridge. Otherwise the stomach will shrink from hunger and eventually atrophy." The woman said.

「Director Huan, you see him talking with that little doctor, he can't straighten his back; if I had known it would be like this, I might as well have waited to work at Aunt Lin's place. 」

Lin JiaoJiao, in an instant the woman recalled Lin JiaoJiao's words.

Zheng Lao Ban, isn't that the person Lin JiaoJiao wanted to find for herself? After going around in a big circle, she ended up back at the starting point.

No, the situation is much worse than the starting point. The postoperative reaction is severe, just as Lin JiaoJiao described, and even worse than she described.

If I had known earlier… I wouldn't have come here to work, the woman thought, feeling some regret.