Chapter 380: 373 Running Faster Than a Rabbit

The blond‑blue‑eyed foreigner actually spoke with a perfect Northeastern accent, and the short fat man's eyes were glued to Professor Rudolf Wagner, unable to look away.

What's going on?

Professor Zheng Renhe basically didn't notice the short fat man; the patient's images were hanging on the viewer, like a slender beauty—who would pay attention to anyone else?

"The patient's condition is good, suitable. Puncturing here, the position is relatively ideal."

"Boss, if we puncture this spot we might end up against the vessel wall; I suggest moving the needle forward‑right 15° and exiting posterolaterally."

"No, there's a problem with the image here—a fluid‑artifact caused by the influence of the nuclear magnetic resonance. So we shouldn't puncture where you said; this spot is enough."

The short fat man was basically in a state of 'duck hearing thunder'—he had no idea what Zheng Ren and Professor Rudolf Wagner were talking about.

Not to mention him not understanding; even Su Yun, standing in the back seriously looking at the images, was in a dazed state.

Surgeons' understanding of imaging is at most advanced level; very few reach master level.

Su Yun is an exception; he probably can reach master level with both CT and nuclear magnetic resonance.

Yet even Su Yun, who is around master level, still couldn't understand the conversation between Professor Zheng Renhe and the professor.

Damn it!

Su Yun felt a surge of frustration in his heart.

What the hell is this, Boss Zheng? As a general surgeon, do you really need to study nuclear magnetic resonance imaging to such an advanced degree?

Lunch was outright ignored, while Zheng Renhe and Professor Rudolf Wagner kept studying the nuclear magnetic resonance diffusion images.

The short fat man inwardly groaned repeatedly.

I had thought that bringing the films over, the doctors at City First Hospital would look at them for at most an hour—just in time for lunch.

He had already prepared to treat Zheng Ren to a big meal, and meanwhile strengthen their relationship.

Former professors were always entertained this way.

Some professors would even ask for foot washing, massage, and other entertainment after the meal.

But this professor seems somehow different.

First, he's young—too young, seemingly under thirty. Could someone like him perform the most difficult TIPS procedure in interventional surgery?

I guess it's that foreign professor who can do it.

At first the short fat man looked down on Zheng Ren a little, but since he was carrying out Director Zhang's mission, how could he offend Zheng Ren?

But…

What I didn't expect was that Zheng Ren, Chief Zheng, and that foreigner with a mouthful of coarse grain flavor would actually look at the images so slowly.

One image, together with other tests for cross‑reference, took almost an hour to finish reviewing a single patient.

The short fat man stood there exhausted, feeling all his blood pool in his legs. But if he went to sit at the side now, wouldn't that show disrespect to Chief Zheng?

He felt torn inside, hesitating.

Wait and see—it's already noon; they have to eat, don't they?

But Zheng Ren and Professor Rudolf Wagner completely ignored the passage of time; after viewing a patient's images, the professor filled an entire page in German with notes.

Then the two of them moved on to the next patient's images.

The short fat man was both tired and hungry; he glanced at the clock—it was already past noon. Going on like this wasn't right; maybe he should remind them?

"Chief Zheng, look at the time—shall we go out for a bite?" the short fat man said, smiling broadly and speaking politely.

There was no reaction at all; Zheng Ren acted as if the short fat man didn't exist in the world, intently studying the images and occasionally arguing a couple of sentences with the professor.

Su Yun chuckled, thinking this short fat man must be some bureaucrat. To a clinical doctor, what's a meal? Not finishing the images in front of you and still wanting to eat? Go dream about it.

Outpatient clinic—same thing.

In the inpatient department—same thing.

However, looking at the disagreement between Zheng Ren and the professor, it seems to be a novel diagnostic method that even they haven't fully mastered.

Su Yun perked up, his brain racing at high speed.

As expected of the Su Yun famed as a genius, on the third patient's image he gradually grasped the pattern.

On the fourth patient's image, he could already begin to voice his opinion.

Although his opinions were always shot down by the professor, and the professor's attitude toward him was absolutely not as gentle as toward Zheng Ren, Su Yun didn't mind.

What a brilliant idea—using nuclear magnetic resonance diffusion perfusion imaging to determine the entry point for TIPS surgery!

While discussing, Su Yun's mind already began to outline the structure of a paper.

This is absolutely a more dazzling achievement than the two previous papers.

The trouble is, there are too many results… Having just returned from Di Du less than half a month ago, those two papers are still under review, and now there's another result on top of that.

This speed…

The short fat man had held on for two hours, but he could barely stand it anymore.

Seeing that no one was paying attention to him, he sneaked over to a side and sat down on a chair.

His legs felt sore and numb; he lightly tapped them, his mind full of questions.

Director Zhang hadn't given him any instructions, just telling him to bring the films over for Chief Zheng to have a look. The short fat man knew the standard of City First Hospital.

It's a bit better than the Second Hospital, but in treating hepatitis B and tuberculosis it's not as good as the Second Hospital. After all, the Second Hospital is a specialty hospital—each field has its specialty.

Now pulmonary tuberculosis is hardly considered a disease, and the Second Hospital's overall technical strength is shifting toward liver disease.

So he didn't think City First Hospital could be much better than City Second Hospital in treating liver cancer, cirrhosis, and portal hypertension.

Especially portal hypertension in the decompensated cirrhosis stage—City First Hospital actually wants to look at nuclear magnetic resonance diffusion images; that's simply a joke.

When he went to fetch the films, the chief of the hepatology ward gave him a good round of mockery.

He knew the chief was dissatisfied with Director Zhang inviting someone to perform TIPS surgery.

Inviting someone is not impossible, but how could you not invite someone from City First Hospital! In the future, at the annual meeting, facing City First Hospital, would we still be able to hold our heads high?

The short fat man zoned out; seeing Zheng Ren and that foreigner still studying the images, he couldn't help but sigh inwardly.

Not saying how that person's Shou Bing is done, it's just this conscientious effort; I have to be convinced.

Originally I also thought I could casually invite that person to a meal, but look at this Chief Zheng, his mind is entirely on the film.

The short, fat guy may be an administrative staffer of the agency, but he still has a basic sense of right and wrong. What kind of doctor is a good doctor, worth befriending, someone you can comfortably turn to when needed later—he knows this clearly in his heart.

This Chief Zheng, not bad.

I don't know how long passed, the telephone on the desk suddenly rang, startling the short, fat guy.

"Hello." Su Yun answered the phone, their voice somewhat distracted, their eyes still fixed on the film on the viewer.

"Good!" But then, Su Yun's voice rose eight degrees, a single 'good,' and he immediately hung up the phone.

"Boss, stab wound to the chest, heart just stopped! On the 120 ambulance, 2 Minute away." Having said that, Su Yun turned and ran.

The short, fat guy stared blankly as Zheng Ren and Su Yun, who had been intently watching the film earlier, ran off faster than a rabbit, leaving him dazed.