"Director Xiang, please let me finish."
The attending doctor stood awkwardly in Director Xiang Hua's office, struggling with how to phrase what he had to say.
But the patient had just been admitted, and there were police stationed outside the room—he had no choice but to speak up.
"The patient survived. He's in the ward now, with police officers standing guard. I came to ask if we should avoid placing any other patients near that room for the time being."
Xiang Hua's back stiffened, his whole body frozen in place.
"What? What did you just say? Say that again—where is he?"
"The ward," the attending said, deciding to lay it all out—whether appropriate or not.
"Half an hour ago, Dr. Shu's assistant opened the operating room door. The patient is now out of danger."
"Officer Cai, who had been waiting outside the door the whole time, insisted on placing the patient in a standard room at the end of the hallway. Vice Director Long made sure all necessary precautions were in place before he left."
"The room is guarded by police, and no one is allowed in except those authorized by Vice Director Long. Dr. Shu was helped out by her assistant—she looked completely exhausted, and the first thing she said when she came out was that she wanted food."
"Vice Director Long took her to eat after explaining everything. I was curious about the patient's current condition and tried to take a look, but the police wouldn't let me in."
"Director, this case is too significant. We both saw what state Han Weicheng was in when he was brought in. Now they're saying he's been saved—I really can't believe it, which is why I came to you..."
The whole bit about checking if other patients could be placed in the ward—that was just an excuse. What he really wanted was to use the director's authority to get into the room and see Han Weicheng for himself.
And it wasn't just him—every doctor who knew about this would probably want to see for themselves.
Saved? He was really saved?
Xiang Hua took a deep breath and pressed a hand to his chest, trying to calm his swirling thoughts.
"Come on," he said. "Let's go take a look."
Xiang Hua was stopped by the police at the door, but through the gap, he caught sight of the monitor displaying the patient's vital signs.
The numbers were perfectly normal—and seeing them struck him like a lightning bolt. It felt impossible, absurd, utterly unbelievable.
He had pulled patients back from the brink of death many times over the years, but Han Weicheng's condition had been beyond saving.
How could this be possible? What did that woman Shu Lanzhou do?
In a near frenzy, Xiang Hua rushed to the assistants' office.
"Which one of you was in the OR with Shu Lanzhou earlier? Come with me!"
The assistants preparing for a night surgery all looked at one another.
"I… We all just got here. We don't know who was in the earlier surgery—they've all gone home already."
No one dared step forward. The director's energy was downright terrifying.
Word had spread about a critically poisoned patient this afternoon. Everyone said he was beyond saving—until a traditional Chinese medicine doctor rushed over and saved him with acupuncture.
There had nearly been a fistfight between the director and vice director in front of the OR because of it.
And now, judging by Xiang Hua's fury… was he embarrassed? Angry at being proven wrong?
"Then call them. Get them back here. I need to see her now! Go!" Xiang Hua roared.
Long Xingyue had just returned to the hospital after dinner and was approaching his office when he heard Xiang Hua shouting.
His brows furrowed as he walked over.
He had come back specifically because he was worried about Han Weicheng's condition. Earlier, he'd left one of his own students in the OR to assist Shu Lanzhou, and he'd already told her to keep everything confidential.
Clearly, Xiang Hua was trying to dig for answers while he was away. Could it be that he still doubted Shu Lanzhou's skill?
Even now—after she saved someone's life—this man refused to believe.
How ridiculous.
Long Xingyue pushed open the door.
"Director, what are you doing? If you want to know about the surgery, you can ask me. Shu Lanzhou already told me everything in detail. There's no need to make things hard on a surgical assistant."
He turned to the others in the office.
"Get back to your work—don't let this delay your tasks."
The tension immediately lifted. Everyone quickly scattered and left the room.
Xiang Hua adjusted his coat and leaned against the desk, his gaze dark and cold.
"You must be feeling proud right now—like you've beaten me again."
"As doctors, seeing a patient survive isn't something to take pride in," Long Xingyue replied, frowning.
"I don't know why you've always had such hostility toward me, but from the moment we became colleagues, I've never seen you as an enemy."
"Yes, we've disagreed on medical philosophy, but we both aim to save lives. You've always had a deep bias against traditional Chinese medicine, while I've always firmly believed in it."
"I've worked hard to add a TCM outpatient department to the National Hospital and to prove its effectiveness with real-world results. I never cared about being vice director or managing this hospital."
"My father knew this, which is why he asked his old friend—your mentor—to support and train you. He wanted someone who could keep the hospital strong after he retired."
"And I could focus on research and the advancement of TCM. But over time, we saw that you were too rigid, even going so far as to try to eliminate the TCM clinic entirely."
"You nearly cut off all my research resources. That's why my father refused to step down. That's why he's still holding onto the director position—because without him, you'd crush everything we've built."
"Everyone knows you're a few years older than me, and your public accomplishments far surpass mine. After your mentor passed, people even started calling you 'Elder Xiang.' The director's position at this hospital was always destined to be yours."
"But you were never satisfied. You believed my father was only hanging on to give me time to catch up, to hand the hospital to me. What you never understood was—he was waiting for the right opportunity."
"The moment when he could give you no room to cancel the TCM clinic or suppress its development."
Long Xingyue watched the blood drain from Xiang Hua's face, then gave a faint smile.
"That opportunity came quickly. At that medical conference, my father nearly lost his life, but that's when he met Shu Lanzhou. And the long-standing rift between us and the Mu family also began to heal."
"While he was still in the hospital, he secured a partnership—between the National Hospital's TCM clinic and Professor He from the research institute."
"Once that collaboration begins, you'll have no excuse to shut us down. And my research will finally be safe."
Xiang Hua had never imagined that his mentor's interest in him might have come from a request made by Director Long's father.
No—it couldn't be. He couldn't believe it.
"You're lying. You're just making this up! Everyone knows my mentor and your father were bitter rivals for years—they hated each other. Your father only got to be director because of sheer luck."
"They were enemies! There's no way my teacher would've chosen a student your father recommended. He picked me because I was good. He saw potential in me."
Long Xingyue chuckled softly.
"You do have some talent. But think about it—of all the students your mentor had, weren't there many who were better than you? Why do you think he chose you?"