It wasn't just Geng Jie—all the attending doctors on duty in the ICU today had come, but no one dared to pry the old lady off.
The old lady's hands were clamped tightly onto the edge of the bed, refusing to let go.
To prevent her from loosening the patient's restraints again, Geng Jie steeled herself and stepped forward. "Ma'am, please step outside for now. Your agitation is affecting the patient."
Who on earth came up with the idea of letting family members in to soothe the patient? Geng Jie was at her wit's end. She shot a look at the nurse beside her, who understood instantly and hurried off to call the ENT department.
For a moment, everyone was locked in a standoff in the room. The old lady hadn't made any further aggressive moves, but she refused to be persuaded to leave the ICU.
It was a two-bed room, and fortunately, the patient in the other bed was on endotracheal intubation with mechanical ventilation—completely unconscious.
Ye Wushu glanced at the other patient, who was entirely unaware of what was happening, and thought to herself, If that were a conscious patient, we'd probably be getting a complaint by now.
Suddenly, a hand reached out from beside her and pulled her away from the "scene of the incident."
Ye Wushu looked up and saw Senior Brother Lu, his brows furrowed deeply. He gave her a slight shake of his head, then pulled out his phone and typed a message to send.
A new notification popped up on Ye Wushu's Apple Watch. She raised her wrist to look: 【Dangerous. Don't get involved.】
The ICU's chief, Cong He'ai, had also arrived. He had worked diligently in the ICU for many years until he developed chronic cold legs—so bad that he now walked with a limp—and only then did he stop taking night shifts.
Chief Cong was a kind-hearted man, soft on everyone. This was both a blessing and a curse. With a lenient leader, the staff's lives weren't too difficult, and occasional minor mistakes wouldn't be seized upon and land someone in the "doghouse."
But a weak leader couldn't fight for more power and benefits for his own people, and in negotiations with other departments, he could only swallow the frustration.
Chief Cong tried to persuade them too: "Family members, you can't just let the patient do whatever he wants. He's breathing through his tracheostomy tube right now. If you loosen the restraints and he pulls the tube out himself, he won't be able to breathe—he'll suffocate. You need to understand what's truly best for him!"
Perhaps because Chief Cong's hair was half gray and he looked like a seasoned expert, the family members were a bit more polite, but they still refused to leave.
Ye Wushu overheard the nurse in charge of the bed whisper in despair, "Just kill me now."
If the patient really did pull out his own tube, then everyone in this room might as well pack up and go home.
Just then, the ENT doctors arrived, late to the scene. They had clearly just come off the operating table—still wearing their scrub suits underneath, with surgical gowns over the top, disposable surgical caps on their heads, masks already pulled down, and disposable shoe covers on their feet.
"Chief He, why are you here?"
Lu Junran knew more people than Ye Wushu did. He messaged her on WeChat: 【This He Feizhou is the chief of the ENT department.】
He added: 【The one who's been married three times.】
Geng Jie, meanwhile, pulled the nurse aside and whispered, "Why did you call He Feizhou? You should have called someone under him."
The nurse whispered back, "Do I dare call He Feizhou? Do I have the guts? When I called, they were just in surgery. When that person answered, He Feizhou was right there."
The family members instantly calmed down when they saw He Feizhou walk in.
"Chief He, look at my father—he just won't listen to me…"
The daughter leaned over and grabbed her father's restless hand: "Dad! Dad! Don't move. Chief He is here to see you. You have to listen to him. We waited so long just to get Chief He to operate on you. If you keep this up, all our hard work and everything you suffered will have been for nothing!"
The daughter could still be reasoned with, but the old lady was completely reduced to tears.
As the chief of a surgical department, He Feizhou had spent decades working with scalpels, and he carried that imposing, almost lethal aura about him. He commanded respect without even raising his voice: "We let you family members in to calm him down. What's going on now?"
One sentence from He Feizhou was enough to silence the family: "We were planning to transfer him back to your ward this afternoon. That's not happening anymore."
He Feizhou didn't look too pleased either. Unlike neurosurgery and liver transplant, which had dedicated beds in the ICU, their patients were essentially borrowing beds from the ICU. Now that one patient was "parked" here, it would be much harder to ask for more beds.
Not to mention they had post-op patients every day who needed ICU transition.
"You family members, please leave." He Feizhou turned to Cong He'ai and said, "Chief Cong, let's restart the sedatives. Sorry for all the trouble."
"From now on, don't let them in except during visiting hours. They're no help at all—just causing chaos!"
The family didn't dare argue. The daughter nodded repeatedly: "Chief He is right. We'll do whatever the doctors say."
The old lady still didn't want to leave, but her daughter dragged her out by force.
Ye Wushu watched, utterly dumbfounded: "…"
The higher-ups went off to their discussions, and Ye Wushu and Lu Junran returned to their designated "grunt work zone." Ye Wushu whispered, "Senior Brother, that Director He seems really impressive—his words carry so much weight?"
Lu Junran was used to it: "That's how surgery is. If you're not assertive, you can't keep patients and their families in check. These families need reassurance, they need a pillar of strength. Sometimes they'd rather hear the director chew someone out than have a junior doctor 'comfort' them…"
Ye Wushu's eyes widened for a moment as she looked at Lu Junran. To him, she looked like an adorable little animal.
"Then Senior Brother, will you be like that someday too?" Ye Wushu said with genuine admiration. "I think you're actually really suited for surgery. I'll have to stick close to you in the future!"
It was nothing more than an ordinary compliment.
Back in medical school, everyone would exchange pleasantries, saying things like "Director So-and-so, Academician So-and-so, don't forget your old classmates when you make it big."
Lu Junran had heard such words before, but this time, he curled the corner of his mouth slightly, a trace of barely perceptible pride seeping through. "Not bad, I guess."
When they returned to the work area, they found all the seats taken—all six computers were occupied. Some surgeons were writing up patient histories after seeing patients, and others were consulting physicians.
Ye Wushu had no choice but to sit off to the side and wait for a computer, while Lu Junran, who never treated writing patient histories as a priority, went straight to the lounge area in the back to rest.
Among the doctors writing histories, there was one male student with particularly striking looks—fair-skinned, and even with a mask on, his superior features were evident.
So Ye Wushu sat down on the nurse's stool and gossiped with the nurse beside her: "Teacher, which department is that doctor from?"
The nurse said, "He's a graduate student in ENT."
The nurse caught on immediately: "This young man got asked about on his very first day. I heard he's still single. Want to go get his WeChat? Let me tell you, with a handsome guy like that, it's first come, first served."
As they say, everyone appreciates beauty.
As a young woman who had just graduated from college and was starting her first year of grad school, Ye Wushu still had an appreciation and pursuit of aesthetics. By her third year, no matter how handsome someone was, she wouldn't give them a second glance.
Ye Wushu hesitated, not daring to approach.
Coincidentally, Geng Jie passed by, heard about it, and directly got the WeChat for Ye Wushu.
Teacher Geng's exact words were: "Xiao Ye, with looks like yours, what's there to be afraid of? Just chat with him."
Lu Junran knew nothing of this. When he came back out, his junior sister had already written most of the patient histories. In fact, Ye Wushu had even texted him: [Senior Brother, come out and write your histories now—the computers are all free.]
At noon, Geng Jie came to order their meals: "There's a meeting today, so lunch is on the department. Don't go to the cafeteria—just pick which set meal you want."
After that, Geng Jie checked in on Ye Wushu: "Xiao Ye, did you add that guy? Have you chatted yet?"
Ye Wushu answered honestly: "I added him on WeChat, but we only exchanged names. Haven't chatted." His Moments were set to three-day visibility and completely empty. Little Ye didn't know how to make conversation, and besides, she still had a pile of medical orders to process.
Lu Junran's typing slowed down.
"Chat more. If it comes down to it, just ask him out to dinner directly," Geng Jie coached her. "Men are all shallow—they only look at faces, not inner character."
Oh, so his junior sister had someone she liked.
Lu Junran retorted coolly, "Not necessarily."
Ye Wushu & Geng Jie: "?" Not necessarily what?
Lu Junran said, "Men who only look at appearances aren't worth considering."
Geng Jie nodded: "That's actually fair, but when two people don't know each other, the first thing you see is just that face—how else would love at first sight happen? You can get to know their personality slowly later, right?"
Geng Jie teased: "A fair maiden, a gentleman's quest."
"Oh, by the way, Xiao Ye, have you ever dated before?"
Lu Junran appeared unfazed, but he was secretly pricking up his ears.
Ye Wushu shook her head: "No."
In college, medical school coursework was intense, and she had no time for romance. In her fifth year, she gave up her guaranteed graduate school spot to take the entrance exam for her dream school, leaving even less room for thoughts of romance.
And now was precisely the right time.
Her graduate school life hadn't yet reached its busiest point, and she was full of anticipation—still holding onto fantasies about love.
Because after a few more months of working, she probably wouldn't want to date at all.
"Ah! That's a bit tricky." Geng Jie turned to Lu Junran. "Xiao Lu, have you ever dated? Help your junior sister out from a guy's perspective."
Lu Junran: "…No."
Geng Jie couldn't believe it: "Really?" It was rare to see a handsome guy still single in his twenties—most handsome men started dating early in their teens.
Lu Junran deliberately avoided looking at Ye Wushu: "Really." He thought for a moment, then added, "I think when it comes to relationships, it's better to have none than to settle for less."
In the end, Geng Jie didn't offer any real guidance. As a married woman approaching forty, she was, frankly, far removed from romance and courtship. Though she was warm-hearted enough to play matchmaker, she was hardly cut out for the role of strategist.
After Geng Jie left, only Ye Wushu and Lu Junran remained in the office area.
Ye Wushu focused on writing up the medical history, while Lu Junran found himself inexplicably restless. He chalked it up to the fact that writing medical histories was, in clinical practice, the most tedious and pointless task of all.
"Junior sister—"
"What?" Ye Wushu turned around warily.
Lu Junran said, "You write my medical history for me, and I'll give you some advice?"
Ye Wushu: "What advice?"
"Help you scope out that handsome guy?" Lu Junran himself couldn't quite tell whether "writing the medical history" was the excuse for "scoping out the handsome guy," or the other way around.
Ye Wushu agreed without hesitation: "Sure, sure."