Chapter 50: 0049 The Vicissitudes of Worldly Affairs

Zheng Ren rushed back to the Emergency Department; in the lobby, he saw Director Pan chatting with someone. Both seemed happy, occasionally bursting into hearty laughter.

That person seemed a little familiar; who could it be?

For Zheng Ren, a late-stage face-blind cancer patient, if it wasn't someone he saw every day, it was hard to remember.

Even with an IQ over 150, even with photographic memory.

For a face-blind patient to identify a stranger they'd only glimpsed a few times by their back view, the difficulty is undoubtedly SS-rank.

"Director Pan, I'm back." Zheng Ren approached the two and said.

"Old Three is looking for you; he says he wants to thank you, so hurry off work, get a meal, and rest." Director Pan said.

Only then did Zheng Ren clearly see who the person was; combined with Director Pan's words, he realized this was the steward of Hai Cheng's richest man—San Ye.

He also didn't know what relationship Director Pan and San Ye had, nor why Director Pan would call San Ye "Old Three."

"San Ye, long time no see." Zheng Ren smiled, the corners of his mouth turning up, gentle and refined.

"Doctor Zheng, achieving so much at a young age—truly remarkable." San Ye said.

"Don't stand here exchanging pleasantries." Director Pan waved a hand, somewhat overbearing, cutting off their small talk. "The corridor's about to fill up, so I won't let you sit in my office. I heard Zheng Ren Gang just fainted from low blood sugar—Old Three, hurry and take him to eat. Let me tell you, if anyone dares to give him alcohol, I'll come after you tomorrow."

San Ye smiled and waved his hand, indicating that the situation Director Pan described wouldn't happen.

"Director Pan, about that patient…" Zheng Ren was still worrying about the several hundred patients with nitrite poisoning, afraid something might go wrong.

That's just how the medical industry is—no matter how skilled the hand, accidents can't be avoided.

They were saved, but who can guarantee there's no liver or kidney failure? Who can guarantee that a transient toxic shock state won't trigger other diseases?

"Without you, would the hospital even run?" Director Pan scolded, his eyes full of affection, like he was looking at his own youngest, most beloved son, "Tonight I'm allowing you to switch off your phone and sleep—even if the sky falls, I won't come looking for you."

Zheng Ren nodded.

Whether it's a junior doctor, a senior attending, the Inpatient Chief who lives in the hospital with nowhere else to go, or the Deputy Chief and Director, they all share one habit—keeping their phones on 24 hours a day.

When the phone rings in the middle of the night, if it's the hospital calling, adrenaline spikes before you even answer. Talk of lazy mornings or getting-up anger? Pure nonsense.

Just like this massive rescue effort, City First Hospital mobilized all its strength for the hundreds of patients, needing medical staff whose numbers could only be more, not less, to work together in unison.

If we had to rely solely on Zheng Ren… most of the patients would probably already be cold.

Zheng Ren smiled and nodded.

"Doctor Zheng, this way, please." San Ye's manner was warm, his words and deeds making people feel pleased.

After saying goodbye to Director Pan, Zheng Ren and San Ye left the Emergency Department building.

A black stretch limousine was parked at the gate—what brand, what luxury, Zheng Ren had no idea; he'd never studied luxury cars.

A driver in a suit and tie, with an honest, simple face, opened the car door and bowed, inviting the two to get in.

Zheng Ren noticed the car doors opened outward, unlike the same-direction opening of ordinary family sedans or SUVs.

After getting in the car and chatting a bit with San Ye, Zheng Ren felt a wave of weariness spread through his body.

People aren't made of iron.

During the rescue, his body automatically secreted adrenaline, making him forget fatigue and hunger. Now everything came back intensified, and Zheng Ren just wanted to lie down and get a good sleep.

As the lights came on, even the most luxurious car couldn't go fast.

Nearly half an hour later, that black luxury car finally arrived at the gate of a plain, ordinary courtyard.

Above the doorway hung a black signboard, its four ancient-looking characters written in vigorous, flowing script—Red Mud Small Pavilion.

Two attendants stood at the entrance, opened the car door, and silently, professionally escorted San Ye and Zheng Ren inside.

The courtyard wasn't large, with a fake mountain and trickling water, somehow creating a secluded‑paradise feel amid the bustling city.

But Zheng Ren had not a single refined bone in his body; he felt no interest in these elaborately designed touches.

Heck, only those who can afford to play with such things aren't short of money—Zheng Ren, just trying to make a living, has endured every hardship; where would he find the leisure to fuss over these?

Just as he stepped into the courtyard, a woman in a red windbreaker, black hair flowing over her shoulders, came forward to greet him.

"Doctor Zheng, nice to finally meet you." The woman—probably a girl—said politely and gently.

She was extraordinarily beautiful, her skin snow‑white with a faint sheen, like a celestial maiden carved from a huge piece of raw jade.

Her brows and eyes were like a painting, her black hair flowing like the wind; her bright eyes seemed like stars, able to see straight into Zheng Ren's inner self.

Yet it was impossible to tell her age.

Judging by her poised and effortless gestures, she seemed like a woman in her thirties to forties, possessing the aura of a career woman who'd spent over a decade in the business world.

Yet her brows and eyes still hinted at a touch of youth, making her look about twenty.

Zheng Ren stared for a moment, then returned a gentle smile, stepped forward, and extended his hand.

Her icy fingertips brushed across Zheng Ren's hand like a dragonfly skimming water, giving no sense of mortal warmth.

"I'm Bu Li, daughter of the Step Cloud Pavilion. Doctor Zheng, please come inside." The woman named Bu Li made a courteous gesture of invitation.

Zheng Ren had an impression of Hai Cheng's richest man—he was indeed surnamed Bu. Moreover, before the surgery, the Step Cloud Pavilion had held at least ten hospital‑wide consultations, and Zheng Ren still remembered the man's name clearly.

It's just that the Step Cloud Pavilion's daughter is called Bu Li—a name that seems rather archaic.

They went inside and sat down; a chef wearing a white toque that nearly brushed the ceiling brought out ingredients and cooked various delicacies right at the table.

Zheng Ren had never seen such a scene, wasn't interested in it, and certainly wouldn't develop some flashy feeling that would make him grovel.

In his view, it was nothing more than snails with greens and undercooked meat steaks.

Seeing Zheng Ren's calm expression, with no hint of surprise, San Ye grew a bit interested. Chatting and laughing, they tossed out odd tales from all over, yet everything suited Zheng Ren's appetite, and they got along swimmingly.

Bu Li occasionally interjected a couple of remarks, commenting on the dishes and pointing out the world. Though she didn't speak much, she added plenty of color to San Ye's banter.

The food was light, the beef not fully cooked, Zheng Ren didn't eat his fill, and he missed the little skewer stall near his home.

At that moment, grabbing a few skewers and downing a bottle of icy cola—that's what life's about.

Seeing Zheng Ren's fatigue growing ever stronger on his face, San Ye and Bu Li, both sharp people, exchanged a glance; then Bu Li said, "My father's surgery—thanks also go to Doctor Zheng for stepping up."

"Don't mention it; it's what a doctor ought to do." Zheng Ren smiled.

"There's no 'should' or 'shouldn't'—in my view, no matter how far you go, you'll end up taking the blame afterward." Bu Li understood that as well.

Worldly affairs are mostly the same, differing only slightly.

Zheng Ren smiled and said nothing.

"Sai Weng lost his horse; how can we know it's not a blessing? Doctor Zheng, this isn't just going to the Emergency Department; Old Pan has taken a liking to you, your future prospects are limitless." Third Uncle said.

"Heh, I'm used to it." Zheng Ren said lightly, "In the hospital, one can see all facets of human life, so many things gradually become indifferent."

For example, the caregivers of the vast majority of vegetative patients are mothers.

For example, spouses usually prefer to give up treatment.

For example, the children who support their parents in old age and see them through to the end are usually not the most beloved at home.

"For example, if a woman comes in for an ectopic pregnancy, you must immediately seize the man who brought her, don't let him run away, otherwise no one will cover the medical fees."

Zheng Ren's voice was very plain, as if an old man who had seen through worldly affairs sat before the hearth. Outside the house, the cold wind was biting; inside, it was cold and desolate. A blanket covered his knees, warming by the fire, he recalled past events.

A breath of vicissitudes came toward him.

Third Uncle nodded slightly; these trivial matters, this old man had long seen through.

Bu Li's eyes were somewhat dim, and he said: "Doctor Zheng sees clearly. Each family's situation differs, but worldly affairs are largely the same; it's truly not worth it."

He sighed, Bu Li immediately broke into a smile, the interior filled with spring warmth and blossoms, "Let's not talk about these literary topics; there's something I need to trouble Doctor Zheng with."