Zhu Zhixiang’s brow furrowed slightly. The Director Li mentioned by the young nurse had to be Li Xiangyang, the Deputy Director of the Emergency Department—a man he himself had promoted. Knowing the Director was in a meeting and still sending someone to notify him meant it was serious business.

The young nurse hurriedly looked up, glancing nervously at Zhu Zhixiang, and whispered, “It’s Director Zhao from the Health Bureau!”

Zhu Zhixiang froze. His guess was right; it wasn't a minor issue. The only Director Zhao at the Health Bureau was the top man, Zhao Yongkui. No wonder Li Xiangyang was so anxious and sent someone even though he knew Zhu Zhixiang was tied up in a meeting.

Changjing Third Hospital fell under the jurisdiction of the Health Bureau. The father of their direct superior being ill was a major event for the entire hospital.

Zhu Zhixiang didn't even return to his seat. He spun around and immediately said, “Comrades, we have an emergency. Meeting adjourned. We will discuss Zhang Yang’s matter later. Director Ma, Director Zhao, Director Liu, come with me to the Emergency Room!”

With that, he led the way out.

As Zhu Zhixiang took his first step, three people rose instantly. They barely bothered to gather their belongings before following him out of the conference room.

The others began tidying up, preparing to return to their posts. Some, harboring ulterior motives, thought about how they might slip over to make an appearance before Director Zhao. If they could offer any help, even better; it would earn Director Zhao’s notice, which would surely benefit them down the line.

Soon, most people had left the room. Wang Guohai walked over to Wu Youdao, a look of weary resignation still lingering on his face.

“If it were just an ordinary patient, they probably wouldn’t be this frantic,” Wang Guohai observed.

Wu Youdao glanced at Wang Guohai and offered a light chuckle, a flicker of disdain in his eyes.

Wang Guohai was momentarily taken aback, a bitter edge creeping into his smile. “Old Wu, I know you despise this kind of sycophancy, but this is just the reality of our nation, something we can’t change anywhere.”

Wu Youdao possessed supreme medical skill. Because he refused to curry favor with superiors, he had never been promoted to a leadership role, remaining a physician his entire life. Yet, he had achieved results that commanded his own pride; even among doctors, he was an unparalleled master physician.

“I understand. Let’s go take a look too,” Wu Youdao nodded slightly. He understood Wang Guohai’s explanation without needing it; with the top boss present, Zhu Zhixiang couldn't possibly continue the meeting with peace of mind.

This was a rare chance for exposure. Just because he didn't enjoy showing off didn't mean others felt the same. Zhu Zhixiang’s ascension to the role of Hospital Director clearly showed he wasn't the type to bury himself solely in medical research like Wu Youdao.

Wu Youdao and Wang Guohai were the last to leave. By the time they reached the Emergency Room, Zhu Zhixiang and the others were already gone. The patient had been moved to the Operating Theater. Staff in the ER whispered that the patient's condition was grave, even dire.

Wu Youdao and Wang Guohai proceeded to the Operating Theater area. A crowd had already gathered outside. Zhu Zhixiang and several Vice Directors stood before a stout, middle-aged man whose face was etched with profound anxiety.

This heavy-set man was Zhao Yongkui, the Director of the Health Bureau, in his early fifties. Everyone in the health system knew Director Zhao was a filial son—a supremely devoted one.

“Director Zhao, please don't worry. Director Ma and the others are already inside the Operating Theater. I’m sure it will be resolved quickly,” Zhu Zhixiang was saying as Wu Youdao and Wang Guohai approached.

Director Ma was one of the three directors Zhu Zhixiang had summoned earlier; he was also the head of the hospital’s Cardiovascular Department, the most renowned expert in heart and brain vessels within the institution. Director Zhao’s father’s operation was being performed by him.

Director Zhao immediately nodded, repeating earnestly, “Good, good, Director Zhu, this all depends on you now. You must cure him, you absolutely must!”

This Director Zhao was indeed like the rumors suggested; at least the worry etched on his face wasn't feigned—he genuinely cared for the patient inside the OR.

“Rest assured, we will,” Zhu Zhixiang affirmed once more, though internally, he lacked such confidence. Director Zhao’s father’s situation was far from good, and a vague sense of dread settled in his chest.

Director Zhao’s father was seventy-nine years old, with a documented history of cerebral thrombosis, having suffered two previous episodes. Both times, he had been treated at the Provincial People’s Hospital, and since the cases weren't severe, he hadn't suffered any lasting major complications.

This time, however, was different. Director Zhao’s father was suffering from acute cerebral thrombosis, a severe variant. Upon arrival at their hospital, the man was already unconscious, his pupils abnormal, and there were signs of petechiae on his calves.

With an illness this severe, even if they managed to save his life, residual sequelae were inevitable.

Of course, Zhu Zhixiang would never voice these harsh realities to Zhao Yongkui. All he could offer now was reassurance; everything would have to wait until after the surgery. For an operation of this magnitude, simply bringing the patient back from the brink would constitute success.

“Alright, I trust you, Director Zhu. I entrust everything to you. Please!”

Zhu Zhixiang’s words seemed to instill great confidence in Director Zhao. He gratefully grasped Zhu Zhixiang’s hand, gripping it with surprising strength. Zhu Zhixiang immediately felt the sweat coating the palms of the Director’s hands.

Director Zhao hailed from the mountains, where his family endured crushing poverty in his youth. It was his father who insisted he continue his studies, enabling him to emerge from the mountains and achieve prominence. Consequently, his devotion to his father was profound.

His mother had passed away early; his deceased father was the person he respected most in his life. After his father’s health declined, he brought the elderly man to live with him, tending to him personally.

Today, he had initially taken his father out for a stroll, planning to stop at a reputable duck blood and vermicelli soup shop—the old man had no other real vice, savoring only that particular dish.

It was while drinking the soup that the old man suddenly suffered the episode. As the Director of the Health Bureau, Zhao Yongkui possessed basic medical knowledge, and from the symptoms alone, he recognized the attack was severe and life-threatening.

He instantly abandoned his initial thought of calling an ambulance from the Provincial People’s Hospital and instead rushed his father directly to the Third Hospital, which was not far across the road from the restaurant. The Third Hospital was a well-known institution in Changjing, and for the old man’s condition, the sooner the treatment, the better.

In hindsight, his choice was correct. Had they transported the patient to the more distant Provincial People’s Hospital, the situation could have deteriorated further, perhaps even resulting in the patient dying en route.

Time crept by. Twenty minutes later, the specialists from the Provincial People’s Hospital arrived, having been called by Director Zhao himself.

In terms of skill level, the experts from the Provincial People’s Hospital were superior, and they were familiar with his father’s medical history. If not for the sheer urgency of the moment, he would never have brought his father to the Third Hospital.

Once the experts arrived, they quickly prepared and entered the Operating Theater. Zhu Zhixiang said nothing about this, understanding that Director Zhao’s actions stemmed from intense concern for his patient.

An hour later, the door to the Operating Theater finally opened. One of the Provincial People’s Hospital specialists and Director Ma from the Third Hospital emerged. They pulled off their masks, and the expressions on their faces were grim.

Seeing their demeanor, Director Zhao froze solid before even asking a question, tears beginning to stream down his face uncontrollably.

………… Chapter One. There will be a second chapter today; please excuse the slightly later update. C