After the news got out, the whole Sanbo went wild.

The first ones to blow up, of course, were those four departments.

Because Xu Zhiliang stutters, Dean Xia rarely calls him, so he actually forgot to notify him.

Right then Xu Zhiliang was doing rounds. He was standing by the bed, his Student beside him holding the chart, explaining precautions to the Patient word by word.

His phone rang—it was a WeChat message from his Student: Director, our department’s been rated as a national key specialty!

He glanced at it, then suddenly shouted, "Stop!"

Everyone stopped and looked at him.

He gripped his phone, his hand shaking, his lips moving, but no sound would come out.

The Head Nurse next to him got anxious: "Director, what’s wrong?"

Xu Zhiliang took a deep breath, held it in for ages, and finally squeezed out a sentence: "We... we... got... got rated!"

"Rated what?"

"Na... national key specialty!"

Then the entire Ward area exploded. The Nurses screamed, the young Doctors hugged each other, the Patients didn’t know what was going on but clapped along. An old lady grabbed a Nurse and asked, "What’s happening, what’s happening?" The Nurse was so excited she could hardly speak clearly: "Auntie, our department just became a national key specialty!"

Standing in the middle of the crowd, watching this scene, Xu Zhiliang’s heart surged. For a department, a national key Clinical specialty meant it was among the top in the country.

Now, he was the director of a national key department.

He suddenly really wanted to cry, but felt crying was too embarrassing, so he could only blink hard.

Over in the Cardiac Surgery Department, Xia Shu was in the middle of a Surgery, still unaware of the news. When he finished and came out, he found a crowd waiting at the door—Nurses, young Doctors, administrative staff, and a few Interns who seemed to have popped up from nowhere.

He was taken aback: "What’s going on?"

The Head Nurse in front beamed. "Dr. Xia, congratulations!"

"Congratulations for what?"

"The Cardiac Surgery Department has been rated a national key specialty!"

He stood there in his surgical gown and cap, looking at the crowd in front of him, and suddenly didn’t know what to say.

Over in Spinal Surgery, Dr. Jin was seeing Outpatients. When the news came, he was looking at a scan for a Patient. A Nurse rushed in and whispered in his ear. After listening, he nodded and said, "Got it."

Then he went on looking at the Patient’s scan.

Only after the Patient left did he start to smile.

Over at the Emergency Center, it was the liveliest.

Xiong Shihai was in the Rescue room managing a critical Patient, a traffic accident victim sent from the expressway, covered in blood, Blood Pressure dropping nonstop.

By the time he finished treating the Patient, two hours had passed. The Patient was sent to the ICU and the Vital Signs had stabilized. He walked out of the Rescue room and saw the corridor packed with people—almost all the Emergency Doctors and Nurses were there, plus people from other departments who’d come to join the fun.

He froze. "What are you all doing?"

"Director Xiong!" A young Doctor rushed up. "We’ve been rated a national key specialty!"

Xiong Shihai nodded. "For real? Where’s Director Song?"

"Director Song just went to Dean Xia’s office."

The news kept spreading outwards.

In the cafeteria, people eating were all talking about it. Even the aunties dishing up food were shaking less than usual. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"Have you heard? Four departments in our Hospital have been rated as national key specialties!"

"Four? Which four?"

"Neurosurgery, Cardiac Surgery Department, Orthopedics, and the Emergency Center."

"Wow, four! There can’t be many Hospitals like that in the whole country, right?"

"Exactly, our Hospital is really about to take off now."

At the Nurses’ station, the young Nurses were chirping away.

"The Emergency Center got rated too? That’s insane!"

"Director Song looks so cold, who knew he was that badass."

"He’s cold outside and warm inside, you don’t know how hard he pushes himself."

"I heard he often stands in the Rescue room for over ten hours at a stretch, and once he even fell asleep standing."

In the Wards, the Patients were talking too.

An old man asked a Nurse, "Miss, what national key thing did your Hospital get rated as?"

The Nurse said proudly, "Four departments! Neurosurgery, Cardiac Surgery Department, Orthopedics, and the Emergency Center!"

The old man nodded. "I’m in Orthopedics—does that mean my condition is being treated by the top Doctors in the country?"

The Nurse laughed. "Sir, your leg was operated on personally by Director Tan. He’s one of the top in the country."

The old man was so happy he couldn’t close his mouth.

That night, it was Uncle Er’s Grilled Fish again.

The place was unbelievably lively. Several departments had booked out the restaurant together, but plenty of people from other departments came too. Grilled fish came out one after another, beers were opened bottle after bottle.

Song Zimo was surrounded by people toasting him—with cola instead of beer, of course. He wasn’t very talkative usually, and he still didn’t say much today, but there was a constant smile at the corner of his mouth.

Li Zehui came too, sitting next to Song Zimo. He couldn’t handle spicy food very well, but he made an exception tonight and ate quite a bit, so spicy he kept drinking water, a fine sheen of sweat popping out on his forehead.

Xu Zhiliang was sitting opposite. After a few drinks, he suddenly became very talkative—and miraculously stopped stuttering. Grabbing the people beside him, he went from the development history of Neurosurgery to surgical techniques, from Yang Ping’s teachings to Director Han’s mentoring, speaking in a torrent, words flowing like a river.

Fatty listened, dumbfounded, and quietly asked Little Fatty, "How come he’s not stuttering?"

Little Fatty whispered, "He’s drunk."

Fatty mused, "So if we want to hear him talk without stuttering in the future, we just need to pour more drinks into him."

Director Bai overheard, and smacked Fatty on the back of the head. "You and your nonsense, he’s drinking cola."

Fatty rubbed the back of his head, aggrieved. "Director, then we pour him cola next time?"

Little Fatty snickered beside him.

Tan Boyun sat in the corner, laughing non-stop.

Director Han was on the other side, surrounded by a few old colleagues. They talked about their younger days, about what Sanbo was like when it had just been built, about the road they’d walked all these years. Partway through, Director Han’s eyes turned red again. An old colleague patted his shoulder. "Old Han, it’s a day for celebrating, what are you crying for?" Director Han waved his hand. "I’m not crying, this liquor stings my eyes."

Yang Ping didn’t come; he was still in the Laboratory, said he had some data to process. Everyone understood—Yang Ping had always been like that.

Dean Xia shouted, "Tonight it’s on me, drink your fill! No one fights me for the bill."

The cheer almost blew the roof off.

Fatty was the first to charge over. "Dean, then can I order two more grilled fish?"

Dean Xia glared at him. "Order! I hope you eat yourself to death!"

Fatty ran off happily to add more dishes.

After three rounds of drinks and five rounds of dishes.

Li Zehui sat there, looking at the lively crowd, and suddenly felt a bit dazed.

He thought of the day he first arrived at Sanbo, standing alone at the Hospital gate, staring at the sign with his heart in knots. Summers in Nandu were hot, and he’d stood there drenched in sweat. He didn’t know if he’d made the right decision, didn’t know if he could adapt, didn’t know what the future would look like.

Now, sitting here, he suddenly thought of the business card Director Liu had given him, with "on 24/7" printed on it.

He suddenly thought of Dean Xia personally going with him to look at apartments, delivering a pot, helping get his daughter into school. That apartment was a ten-minute walk from the Hospital; Dean Xia had said, "You’ll be working overtime a lot in the future. Living close means you can sleep a bit more."

He suddenly thought of those young Doctors crowding around him with questions, those Nurses bringing him coffee, those Patients clutching his hand and saying "thank you." There was an old man who recovered very well after Surgery and insisted on giving him a box of "Feizixiao" lychees from his own trees when he was discharged.

He looked up and saw Song Zimo watching him.

Song Zimo asked, "What are you thinking about?"

He said, "Thinking that coming back was the right choice."

Song Zimo nodded, said nothing, just raised his glass and clinked it against his.

The glasses met with a soft clink.

In the room, the smell of grilled fish hung in the air, and the laughter never stopped.

"I’m done, I really can’t anymore."

"You’re saying you can’t handle damn cola?"