When Zhao Zhenzhen sought out He Dongli to understand the situation with the Outpatient Complaint, she told her she was wasting her looks.
If it were any other boss saying this about He Dongli, she might have thought it was gender discrimination.
But coming from the Master, it was worldly and not untrue.
Zhao Zhenzhen kept a stern face and told He Dongli not to be upset.
“We, in reconstructive and burn surgery, what kind of scars or tissue infections haven’t we seen? You tell me, is having an intact face more important than a foot or not?”
When a patient comes to you for a scar or a facial mass, and you, a Reconstructive Doctor, present a proper and attractive face, supported by your skills—how is that not persuasive?
Maybe not persuasive, but at least it’s approachable, right?
As Zhao Zhenzhen spoke, she pinched the glasses chain on her chest, perched the glasses on her nose, and continued scolding.
“You’ve attended so many outpatient clinics, and you still can’t handle this kind of situation?”
He Dongli maintained a procedural, righteous expression.
“The follow-up system requires re-registration and queuing.”
“I’m not talking about the system, I’m talking about your attitude.”
“I never had any direct conflict with the patient or their family. I showed my credentials and told him to go ahead and file a complaint.”
“Yes, and he did. Today it’s the outpatient office, next time it’ll be the Department of Medical Affairs, then the Health Commission, or even 12345.”
He Dongli fell silent.
Zhao Zhenzhen held He Dongli’s monthly duty roster in her hand—nearly no days off, with two 24-hour shifts covering for others.
She had entered with the top score in the open recruitment for the position.
In the years since, from Residency Training to Chief Resident, there was endless gossip both inside and outside the department, all about the entrenched power structure and the passing down of positions within medical families.
Zhao Zhenzhen dared to fight for her Attending Physician Position, and wasn’t afraid of the nasty rumors that came with a big reputation.
Back during the department interview, Zhao Zhenzhen had immediately picked out Old Cheng’s disciple.
Later, Old Cheng himself regretted that if it hadn’t been for Dongli’s insistence on returning, he would have kept a spot for her at the hospital.
Old Cheng had teased Zhao Zhenzhen, “Do you see some of your old stubbornness in her?”
Zhao Zhenzhen neither confirmed nor denied it.
At the final interview, there was a very realistic life question: “Do you have a partner? If so, will your family help when you get married and have children in the future?”
He Dongli answered no.
As for the practical balance of marriage and family, she said something surprising: “I think at worst, I can at least support myself.”
This matched Zhao Zhenzhen’s own thinking back then.
She returned to S City and insisted on doing surgery to prove that anyone who could survive the rotations was a winner.
Low workload, high salary, close to home—at least one of those had to be met.
She didn’t have lofty ideals.
On the contrary, her career choice had to bring her happiness.
When her parents used to pressure her, she’d retort, “If I can’t find someone better, can’t I at least find someone equal? Why do I have to settle for someone worse?” If both people can support themselves, then at worst, they’ll split up, but at least she can maintain herself.
At present, Zhao Zhenzhen scolded her with a “hate iron for not becoming steel” tone, then immediately moved on to the old topic of turning external conflicts into internal ones.
“Don’t mention anything else—if a patient cuts the line, first ask those waiting if they’re okay with it.”
What Zhao Zhenzhen meant was, you need to know that some things patients can say, but you can’t.
Matters involving the public should be supervised by the public.
Everyone understands reason—those who do are all scholars.
The problem is, what if the person you meet isn’t a scholar, but a soldier?
When you run into an unreasonable patient, they’ll argue endlessly with you.
What’s your attitude worth, anyway?
You’re just a regular doctor, not even an expert.
If you treat patients like this, what good does it do you?
Watch out, I’ll file a complaint against you!
In reality, He Dongli had been docked pay before because of unreasonable complaints.
Even so, she never took out her frustration with one patient on another.
All she could do was treat everyone equally, and if things really couldn’t be resolved, she’d simply tell them to go ahead and file a complaint.
She also knew the Master’s temper—if she scolded you harshly, it meant there was still hope for you.
On the contrary, if a teacher thought you were truly stupid, she wouldn’t even say a word.
This Outpatient Complaint ended up being just a warning and then left unresolved.
He Dongli, proactive and obedient, started chatting with her teacher about her current research topic, and this tea invitation was handled gently.
As she was about to leave, Zhao Zhenzhen suddenly looked as if she’d remembered something important.
It was only after the conversation ended that He Dongli realized: the Master’s real purpose for calling her was to talk about a blind date!
Director Yao from the Department of Medical Affairs was about to retire.
Her husband was a big name in the Department of Orthodontics at the Dental Hospital.
The couple had two sons.
Last year, at the end of the year, the Liang Family’s eldest son had a mole removed and a super-tension-reducing suture done on his thigh—
Zhao Zhenzhen had arranged for He Dongli to be the lead surgeon.
Director Yao and her eldest daughter-in-law both had an impression of He Dongli.
Liang Lao Er, the second son of the Liang Family, was already thirty, still searching and unsettled.
One day, while playing cards with Zhao Zhenzhen, they asked if she had any good matches to introduce.
Zhao Zhenzhen disliked the usual matchmaking routines and hadn’t even thought of Dongli.
But the Liang Wife and her daughter-in-law seemed to have planned it, waiting for “Dr. Xiao He” to be picked.
It happened that Liang Lao Er was also there.
After seeing He Dongli’s ID photo, he teased, “This one’s been photoshopped, right? Doesn’t look like someone who’s studied medicine and sewed up wounds.”
Director Yao spat at her younger son, “Then what does she look like? Like the ones you hang out with, who talk like they haven’t eaten?”
Liang Lao Er bickered with his mom, “What did I say? I was complimenting someone from your hospital, and you start with the personal attacks.”
Liang Mother didn’t care, grabbing her cards and teaching her son in front of her old friends, “A personal attack is being kind—best find someone fierce to come home and sew your mouth shut.”
Liang Lao Er, whether satisfied with Dr. Xiao He or just trying to amuse his mother, said, “Oh, then a reconstructive surgeon would be best—at least she’ll stitch me up nicely.”
Zhao Zhenzhen couldn’t refuse a decade of friendship, so she agreed to arrange for her student to visit.
He Dongli looked at the Master a bit helplessly.
Zhao Zhenzhen noticed and said that if Dongli really didn’t want to, she’d refuse on her behalf.
Before He Dongli could speak, Zhao Zhenzhen added, “You don’t put all your eggs in one basket. You spend all day in the hospital—if you don’t look for a partner, it’s hard to even make friends. The more friends you have, the more paths you can take. The Liang Family has a good background. That Lao Er, apart from his sharp tongue, is basically alright. The older brother is a second-generation doctor, the younger does business.”
Zhao Zhenzhen didn’t spell it out, but He Dongli understood.
As a newcomer, it might be easier for the Liang son to look down on her than to risk offending the Department of Medical Affairs leadership by refusing.
In the end, He Dongli nodded and agreed.
Zhao Zhenzhen looked pleased, world-wise and kind, and gave her student another tip: “The Liang Family is hosting the Winter Solstice Banquet that day. They’re worried others will notice they’re looking for a daughter-in-law. There are plenty of men your age there—if you don’t like Liang Lao Er, maybe someone else will catch your eye.”
He Dongli said, “Ah, Teacher, isn’t this a bit much?”
“What’s there to fear? A daughter is sought by a hundred families.”
The next day, He Dongli ran into Zou Yan while lining up at the cafeteria.
Zou Yan called out to her, telling her not to wait—he’d get her food as well.
While eating, they talked about the Liang Family’s banquet on Saturday.
Zou Yan had been busy all morning and was starving, shoveling rice into his mouth as he chewed and scorned He Dongli, “With someone like Liang Lao Er, you’re actually willing to go?”
“What kind of person?”
He Dongli thought to herself, “Hopefully someone with sky-high standards, or at least just as compelled by family orders. Everyone can just go through the motions and go home afterward.”