Before heading out, Jiang He logged into Dingxiang Garden.

For the past few days, whenever he had a spare moment, he would go on the forum to answer questions.

The account "Zhiyu" had now gained a certain degree of recognition and was a topic of discussion in the general surgery and emergency medicine sections.

Jiang He clicked on a popular post asking for help in the general surgery section and replied, "The patient is currently in shock. Forcing an open abdominal surgery would carry an extremely high mortality rate. I recommend an immediate PTCD for decompression, or a nasobiliary drainage under endoscopy. Once the patient’s vital signs have stabilized, the stones can be dealt with in a scheduled procedure."

He finished typing, hit enter, and sent the reply.

Not two minutes later, someone posted a rebuttal: "I don’t think that’s right..."

Jiang He glanced at the reply, his expression calm. He didn’t write back.

Medical progress has always advanced through constant questioning and the breaking of conventions.

The solution he had provided was a new consensus at the forefront of international medicine, but one that had not yet been fully adopted in China’s primary-level hospitals.

Once the final outcome and the progression of the case were posted, it would naturally prove his judgment correct.

Thanks to his arrival, the forums were suddenly full of boomerangs, constantly coming back around to prove people wrong.

After dealing with the public requests for help on the forum, Jiang He clicked on his private messages.

These days, some people would proactively send him private messages to ask for his advice.

There were even desperate family members of patients, who, with nowhere else to turn, treated this as their last lifeline.

"Doctor, my dad was diagnosed with lung cancer, and it’s already metastasized. The local hospital said there’s nothing they can do. I’m begging you, please take a look at his medical records. Is there any chance for surgery? We’re willing to pay any amount!"

"My daughter is only seven. She was diagnosed with a rare disease and is in the ICU now. Do you know any top experts in the Capital City...?"

"Master, can you help me with my girlfriend’s case? I’m a medical student too, so I know the situation is terrible, but I wanted to ask if you know of any other way. I’m willing to try any solution!"

Staring at the lines of text on the screen, Jiang He’s hand tightened slightly.

He read each one carefully, but he didn’t know how to reply.

For most of these cases, there was nothing he could do.

In ’08, people usually posted on general forums for help; they wouldn’t specifically come to Dingxiang Garden.

So... the ones who came here to ask were almost all at the end of their rope.

’But I’m a doctor, not a god. Some people just can’t be saved...’

He closed his laptop, stood up, and let out a long, heavy breath.

He stood and went to the cafeteria to eat.

He bought a cup of hot soy milk and two meat buns, then found a corner to sit down.

A 21-inch CRT television hung high in the center of the cafeteria, currently playing the morning news.

The screen showed a broadcast of the National Earthquake Relief Summary and Commendation Conference.

The red banners, the solemn assembly hall, and the scrolling text at the bottom of the screen were all reminders of the tragedy this land had endured this year.

"United we stand, with one heart and one mind."

The news anchor’s voice echoed through the cafeteria.

Watching the honored representatives in camouflage and white coats on the screen, Jiang He’s chewing slowed.

Only those who had lived through this era would understand.

In ’08, what the four words "United we stand" truly meant.

It was against this grand historical backdrop that medical schools across the country began to deeply reflect on their teaching methods.

The school’s decision to hold the clinical and pathological reasoning competition early this time, and even form an advanced class to participate in the South China Region tournament, was, in essence, a response to the national call to improve medical students’ practical clinical skills.

It was to help future doctors become better adapted to performing rescue and treatment under complex conditions.

Jiang He lowered his head, looking at the steaming soy milk in his hands.

The private messages he had just seen on Dingxiang Garden resurfaced in his mind.

As a doctor, one often felt a profound sense of powerlessness.

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t save everyone.

It didn’t matter how much money you had or how high your status was; when you got sick, you would deeply understand just how important a healthy body is.

What he could do was indeed limited, so he could only focus on doing the best he could with what was in front of him.

The LNR paper was about to be published, and the preliminary preparations for the miRNA early screening project had to be accelerated.

This was the key to changing his wife’s fate, and one of the few changes Jiang He... could bring to the world, having been reborn.

...

「8:50 AM, Room 302 of the Training Building.」

Seven or eight people were already seated inside, gathered in small groups of two and three, talking in low voices.

Seeing Jiang He enter, Pan Wen and Tang Pei were the first to greet him.

The two of them had placed in the top three in the semifinals and had naturally joined the advanced class.

"Seniors," Jiang He said with a nod.

Pan Wen smiled. "Junior, do you have any idea how crushed I was during the last competition when I went to do my pre-operative scrub and found you were already done?"

Tang Pei chimed in, "However crushed he was then, that’s how thrilled he is now."

The two looked at each other and burst out laughing.

After all, they had been rivals in the exam hall, but now they were teammates.

Anyone would feel more at ease with a powerhouse on their team.

Pan Wen clapped Jiang He on the shoulder and said with a smile, "Junior, you have to give it your all in the upcoming competition. Let the other schools get a taste of what I felt back then."

Jiang He replied politely, "You’re too kind, Senior. It will still take all of us working together."

As they were speaking, a young man in a crisp white shirt, dressed neatly and meticulously, walked out from a small circle of people at the back of the classroom.

He walked straight up to Jiang He and stopped.

"You’re Jiang He, right? I’ve heard a lot about you." The young man extended his right hand.

Jiang He shook it briefly, their hands touching for only a moment.

The young man’s name was Xu Chen. He was a top student in the eight-year integrated Bachelor-Master-PhD clinical program and one of the seeded contestants handpicked by the Medical School to directly enter the advanced class.

Xu Chen looked at Jiang He, his gaze carrying a hint of appraisal.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and spoke in a casual tone, "I went to the academic affairs office yesterday and took a look at the questions for this year’s reasoning competition, both the preliminaries and the semifinals. To be honest, I felt the difficulty was much lower than in previous years. A lot of it was just basic stuff."

"But that’s normal. The school wanted to increase participation and encourage the younger juniors to compete, so it’s a good thing they lowered the bar. I’ve been on rotation at Affiliated Hospital No. 1 this whole time and just couldn’t get away, so I didn’t participate."

Xu Chen’s subtext was clear:

’The questions were easy, and you just got lucky!’

He was subtly putting down this third-year junior, who was currently in the spotlight, to solidify his own position as the leader among the seeded contestants.

Jiang He went along with him, nodding. "You’re right, Senior. The questions this time were definitely more on the basic side. I just happened to have reviewed the right material. It was mostly luck."

Xu Chen was instantly satisfied. He nodded and said, "Of course, of course. We’re all on the same team now. We can learn from each other. If there’s anything you don’t understand, feel free to ask me."

After saying his piece, Xu Chen turned and walked back to his circle at the back of the room.

The few handpicked students started chatting among themselves.

"I heard Professor Wang Xiaoqing from the School of Clinical Medicine is leading our advanced class."

"Professor Wang? You can’t even get a seat in her regular lectures."

"I know, right? I heard from my counselor that the school is taking this South China Region competition extremely seriously. They’ve approved a special budget for it. As long as you make it to the end of this advanced class and represent the school, you’ll get preferential treatment for research funding next year, regardless of the results."

"No wonder so many people were fighting tooth and nail to get into this class and couldn’t."

As they chattered back and forth, their words were filled with pride in the prestige of this advanced class.

Jiang He sat in his seat, listening quietly.

He raised his wrist and glanced at the time.

Nine o’clock sharp.

The classroom door was pushed open.

Professor Wang Xiaoqing walked in.

"Good morning, Professor." Everyone stood up, bowed, and greeted her in unison.

"Please, have a seat." Wang Xiaoqing walked to the lectern and set down her thermos.

Her gaze swept over the faces of the nine students one by one, and when her eyes landed on Jiang He, they lingered for two extra seconds.

On the day of the semifinals, Jiang He’s performance in the exam hall had absolutely astounded her.

’Now it’s finally my turn to be his teacher! Hehe!’

Suppressing a smile, Wang Xiaoqing said:

"All of you here are elites who have been selected through rounds of preliminaries and semifinals, or were recommended after a comprehensive evaluation by the Medical School."

"The South China Region finals are less than twenty days away. I hope you will all work hard, make progress together, and achieve a good result... for the school, and for yourselves."

She finished speaking and saw Jiang He raise his hand, so she asked, "Jiang He, do you have a question?"

Jiang He stood up. "Actually, I came to register today because I want to ask for your permission to withdraw from the competition’s advanced class."

As soon as he said it, the entire room fell silent.

Tang Pei’s jaw dropped.

’Withdraw? Did I hear that right? This was the special training class that others were breaking their necks and pulling strings to get into, all to no avail. And he’s just asking to quit, so casually, right in front of the professor? Huh? Is that even okay?’