DSMIS CH44

Chapter 44: Director Shen Notices Something Amiss

“I didn’t have time to go back and boil the dumplings, so I ordered KFC. It should be here any minute. Is KFC okay?”

Jiang Lin had originally planned to go home this morning, boil the dumplings, and bring them to Shen Xing. However, he didn’t know when the surgery would end, and dumplings wouldn’t taste good if they turned into a mushy clump. Those were dumplings Shen Xing had wrapped by hand. He really wanted them to sit down and enjoy a hot meal together, so he opted for KFC instead.

Right now, Shen Xing was so hungry his stomach was practically touching his spine: “Of course. Never mind KFC, I’d eat CFK right now.”

Jiang Lin had ordered quite a bit. Upon opening the bags, Shen Xing rummaged through them and looked up: “No coffee?”

Jiang Lin placed a cup of soy milk in front of him: “You stayed up all night and you still want coffee? Aren’t you afraid of sudden cardiac death, Director Shen?”

Shen Xing lowered his head and took a gulp of the soy milk. He felt his brain was currently as mushy as this soy milk—a typical manifestation of intense, prolonged concentration finally relaxing.

Both of them had stayed up all night without sleep or food. They practically inhaled the massive bag of breakfast. Once their stomachs were full, a wave of sleepiness surged up, impossible to resist. Shen Xing propped his eyelids open: “You were on duty all night too, right? Hurry up and go home. I’m on duty today.”

Jiang Lin frowned slightly: “Can’t you ask a colleague to cover for you? You just got off surgery.” “A 24-hour shift plus a day shift is standard for us. Besides, I’m not in the ER today, so if there are no patients, I can catch a quick nap.”

Seeing him yawn one after another, Jiang Lin didn’t want to waste any more of his rest time. He cleaned up the mess on the table and left.

As soon as Jiang Lin walked out of the office, Shen Xing floated over to the nurse’s station. He left instructions to call him immediately if there were any issues with the child who had just undergone the replantation surgery. He then returned to his office, curled up on the simple cot, and fell asleep almost the instant his head hit a makeshift pillow folded from his clothes. Even in that brief window, he remembered to place his phone—having checked that it wasn’t on silent—right beside him.

He was awakened by a knock on the door. He woke up and sat up almost instantly: “Come in.”

Head Nurse Sangye walked in. “Is there a problem with the child?”

Sangye quickly replied: “Oh, no, no. My shift is over. I brought you some homemade khasai.”

Shen Xing stood up and took the pastry box from her hands: “Oh, oh, thank you. Hurry home and get some rest.”

After Sangye left, Shen Xing didn’t lie back down. He went to the sink and splashed his face with cold water. The jolt of the cold water finally banished the grogginess from his brain. Surgeons all possess this ability to recharge for three hours and run for a whole day.

He sat back on the edge of the cot. Scenes from right before he fell asleep replayed in his mind. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now that his mind was clear, Shen Xing finally felt something was off. What… what was he thinking just now? Why would he rest his head on another man’s shoulder? And how had he even ended up in his arms?

Shen Xing stared at the spot by the door, recalling carefully. No, I don’t think I initiated the hug. Jiang Lin had supported him back, wrapped an arm around his waist, and then… then he had just leaned into his embrace? And rested his head on his shoulder? And then… yes, and then Jiang Lin had stroked his hair.

Reflecting on the scene, why did it feel so wrong? Why did Jiang Lin hug him?

He couldn’t help but remember how he looked coming out of the operating room—exhausted as a dog. He also recalled how, during his previous ’emo’ moments, Jiang Lin would always notice and comfort him. So, in Captain Jiang’s eyes, was he just an emo little puppy in need of comforting? Was that embrace merely a bro-hug to console him? Yes, that must be it. He just hadn’t expected himself to climb right up the pole and actually lean into it. Shen Xing slapped his own face. How embarrassing.

Unwilling to dwell further on this socially fatal embarrassment, he gathered his emotions, put on his white coat, and headed to the ICU. Guarding the door to the ICU was a young man in his early twenties—the older brother of the boy with the severed arm. His eyes were bloodshot, clearly having endured a grueling night. Seeing Shen Xing approach, he quickly stood up: “Director Shen.”

“Have you been keeping watch here the whole time? He needs to be observed in the ICU for a few days. During this time, family members don’t need to bring food or stay here constantly. Just come during visiting hours. I will contact you if there are any issues.”

Wangga had very typical Tibetan features: strong, well-defined contours and somewhat dark skin. He offered a small smile: “I told my mom and dad to go find a hotel to rest. The nurse said you would be coming for ward rounds soon, so I thought I’d wait.”

Shen Xing nodded, entered the ICU, checked on the child’s condition, reviewed the data recorded by the nurses, and emerged seven or eight minutes later: “Currently, his condition is stable, and blood circulation in the severed limb is normal.”

Wangga asked somewhat nervously: “Director Shen, does this mean the surgery was a success? How long will he be observed? To what extent will his arm recover in the future?”

“Generally speaking, the first one to two weeks after a severed limb replantation are crucial in determining whether the reattached limb will survive. If no necrosis occurs and blood flow remains stable during this period, it’s considered a success. However, this stage will also involve swelling and pain, which can be quite difficult to endure. We will provide a patient-controlled analgesia (PCA) pump based on his condition.

“In the following three to six weeks, nerve regeneration will begin. Because your brother is young, his nerves will regenerate faster than an adult’s. Three months post-surgery is the functional reconstruction period. Since his injury is on the upper arm, where the muscle volume is large and compensatory ability is strong, the impact on his daily activities will be relatively small. Generally speaking, he can recover 50% to 70% of normal function. However, since it is a surgery, a complete recovery to how it was before is unlikely. The family needs to be prepared to provide psychological support.”

“Okay, I understand. Thank you, Doctor Shen.” “Go back and get some rest. Once he’s out of the ICU, he’ll need his family to care for him.”

Only after giving these instructions did Shen Xing head downstairs. The moment he entered his office, a video call came through. He instinctively assumed it was Jiang Lin, but glancing at the screen, the words “Patrick Star” glared back at him. He answered it, and a rapid-fire voice immediately came through: “I thought you’d been kidnapped by human traffickers! We’ve basically been dead on each other’s contact lists. What have you been so busy with all day?”

Back in Tianjin City, Patrick Star was his regular weekend BBQ buddy and the dumping ground for his rants about bizarre patients. Hearing Patrick Star’s words, Shen Xing realized with a start that he hadn’t casually chatted with him in quite a while. And his current chat partner… Jiang Lin’s face popped into his mind.

Patrick Star was peeling peanuts, tossing them into his mouth while looking at the screen. Seeing Shen Xing’s expression, he narrowed his eyes slightly: “Something’s wrong, something’s definitely wrong…”

Shen Xing looked up: “What’s wrong?” “Look at how guilty you look. You didn’t get a girlfriend, did you? Little Xingxing, did you abandon our aristocratic bachelor ranks this quickly?”

For some reason, this sentence made Shen Xing feel a little guilty: “I’m swamped with patients all day long. Where would I find the time to date a girlfriend?” “Then who have you been venting to about the patients driving you to the brink of a nervous breakdown? Did you get a new bestie?”

Shen Xing felt a bit awkward and changed the subject: “You make it sound like all I do is spew negativity. The patients at this county hospital are much less stressful than the ones at Yuetan Hospital. At least they don’t treat me like a service worker and constantly look for reasons to complain. Hey, where are you right now? It looks like a dark little room.”

“My grandma’s small storage room. Let me tell you, you made the right call not coming home for the New Year. As an older, single male youth pushing thirty, I’ve been bombarded by every relative under the sun these past two days. It’s either pushing me to get married or pushing me to find a partner. I’ve had it. The storage room is peaceful; at least the mice won’t nag me. Oh, right, did you video call your grandpa for the New Year?”

At the mention of that side of the family, Shen Xing’s smile faded slightly: “I called him during the day to wish him a Happy New Year. Last night I received a severed limb replantation case and was in surgery all night. I just woke up and finished ward rounds.”

Patrick Star leaned closer to the screen. Shen Xing was far too familiar with this schadenfreude expression. Sure enough, the next second he heard Patrick Star say: “Want to hear some news that’ll cheer you up?” “Spit it out.” “The postgraduate entrance exam results came out early this year. I found out Shen Hao’s score.”

Shen Xing wasn’t surprised in the least that Patrick Star, the ultimate gossip octopus, could find out Shen Hao’s score. It was a good thing he was born in today’s peaceful and united society. If he had been born a few decades earlier, he would have definitely held a top spot in intelligence work. “What did he get?”

Patrick Star dusted the peanut crumbs off his hands: “Tsk, tsk. He didn’t even pass the minimum cutoff for the English section. Total score: 240. That’s 5 points below the national baseline this year. Seeing how your dad wanted to use your connections before, I figured he’d at least score a 300. Good lord, he didn’t even pass the baseline. He really was dreaming way too big.”

As a student in an eight-year joint bachelor’s, master’s, and doctoral program, Shen Xing had never taken the postgraduate entrance exam. When Shen Rukun shamelessly tried to use his connections last time, Shen Xing had genuinely assumed Shen Hao’s grades were decent—at least decent enough to make Shen Rukun swallow his pride and ask for a favor. Now, this score of 240 completely shattered his lowest expectations. Did he take the exam with his eyes closed? He couldn’t even pass the baseline? “Whatever he scored has nothing to do with me.”

Failing to pass the baseline also saved them the trouble of coveting his connections. He could absolutely afford to give Shen Rukun no face, but if his grandfather had called him on Shen Hao’s behalf, honestly, he really wouldn’t have wanted to deal with it. It was good that he failed.

After hanging up the video call with Patrick Star, Shen Xing sat on the sofa and scrolled through his WeChat contact list. It was then he shockingly realized just how frequently he chatted with Jiang Lin—it was practically a daily check-in. Even Patrick Star, whom he used to contact frequently, along with his classmates, had been pushed far down the list.

Staring at Jiang Lin’s chat window, Patrick Star’s words echoed in his mind, making that strange feeling even more pronounced. Do ordinary friends keep in touch this frequently? But then, we probably aren’t just ‘ordinary friends’, are we? We’re both supporting the border region, we’re neighbors, we’re dining buddies, and now we’re even dog-walking buddies. Since we’re both alone out here, it’s… normal to contact each other more often, right?

Lost in thought, his phone chimed. The new message was precisely from Jiang Lin’s chat window: “Are you busy right now? I took the dumplings from your place and boiled them. I’m bringing some over to you.”

Having just had a bunch of random thoughts, Shen Xing felt inexplicably guilty: “No need to go through the trouble. I can just order some takeout.” “It’s the first day of the Lunar New Year. I even made two dishes.”

Below that were photos Jiang Lin sent: stir-fried pork segments, sweet and sour pork ribs, and cold mixed pig ears. Shen Xing’s eyes were instinctively glued to them. His first thought was that he wanted to eat… “Alright then.”

Shen Xing put away his phone, convincing himself that his overactive imagination was solely due to staying up all night performing tense surgery. He needed to calm down. He simply sat down at his computer and started reading medical literature. Ten minutes later, he had entered a state of Zen-like focus. As expected, medical literature brings peace.

When Jiang Lin arrived, he saw Doctor Shen sitting behind his computer, resting his chin on his hand, reading something. Unsurprisingly, it was probably medical literature.

Shen Xing only looked up when Jiang Lin walked in. He noticed Jiang Lin was wearing the scarf he had given him the other day around his neck. Captain Jiang’s good looks were undeniably top-tier, but Shen Xing could tell his complexion wasn’t great either. He had noticeable dark circles under his eyes. After going back this morning and whipping up these dishes, he probably hadn’t had much time to sleep. The emotions that had just settled seemed to ripple slightly again. Moreover, he vaguely recalled seeing Jiang Lin stumble slightly when he stood up outside the operating room that morning.

Without thinking much, he moved to lift Jiang Lin’s pant leg. Jiang Lin stood there without dodging, but bent down and grasped his wrist: “Director Shen, eat first, then examine me.”

He was holding the food with his right hand, so he grasped Shen Xing’s wrist with his left. This action perfectly exposed the medicated plaster stuck to his wrist bone. Shen Xing’s brain still hadn’t fully rebooted, and he instinctively grasped Jiang Lin’s wrist in return: “Is your wrist still bothering you?”

“It’s cold.”

Shen Xing burst out laughing: “Captain Jiang, couldn’t you find a less lacking excuse?”

“I’ll change it next time. Come on, let’s eat first.”

The dishes were opened one by one. The sweet and sour flavor of the stir-fried pork segments bloomed on his taste buds, and Shen Xing felt his body and mind relax. Catching a glimpse of Jiang Lin eating beside him out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly felt incredibly grounded. It seemed that as long as Jiang Lin was beside him, he would feel this way. He didn’t know why, but it was an inexplicable sense of security.

He remembered Patrick Star’s comments about being pushed to get married. He realized he had never asked about Jiang Lin’s family situation. Logically, being older than him and in his early thirties, it would be perfectly normal for him to have a partner or even be married. However, the mere thought of this possibility triggered an unidentified resistance within him. He stuffed another piece of pork into his mouth and mumbled a question: “Hero, do you have a partner?”

Jiang Lin looked up abruptly, seeing Director Shen stuff another piece of pork into his mouth. He answered very seriously: “No. Not married, no partner. There are a lot of single dogs in our line of work. What about you? Director Shen is young and accomplished, do you have a partner?”

He asked casually, but his slightly whitened fingertips gripping his chopsticks betrayed his true emotions.

His answer instantly made Shen Xing breathe a sigh of relief; his mood even brightened: “Your Director Shen is a single dog too. I was too young when I was in school, so my classmates treated me like a mascot. Nobody wants me.”