Chapter 80
The two of them played all day. By night, Jin Zijin had a meeting to attend, so they moved to the sofa in the living room.
Mi Tang curled up on Wen Yan’s lap, purring softly. Its belly rose and fell gently, and every so often a paw twitched as if it were chasing something in its dreams.
Wen Yan held an orthopedic textbook in her hands, but her fingers never turned the page. All her thoughts were on the person beside her.
Jin Zijin was tucked into the other end of the sofa, attending a cross-border conference. Her tablet rested on her lap, her fingertips tapping lightly at the keyboard; in the light, the side of her face looked especially soft.
Wen Yan watched her for a long while.
When this person was in a meeting, her brows would knit slightly. If she heard something she didn’t like, the corners of her mouth would turn down. Sometimes she would speak, her voice lowered, and she looked cold and imposing.
But the moment her gaze swept over and met Wen Yan’s eyes, that frown would smooth out at once. Her lips would curve, and she would wink at Wen Yan like a fox sneaking a signal.
Wen Yan couldn’t help smiling back, her heart warm all the way through.
Just then, the phone on the coffee table suddenly rang. The screen showed four words: Department Director.
Wen Yan gently moved Mi Tang onto the sofa, got up, and went into the gym to answer the call; she also closed the glass door behind her, afraid of disturbing Jin Zijin’s meeting in the living room.
On the other end, the director sounded tired and helpless. The six elective surgeries originally scheduled for Monday had been suddenly reduced to three.
And two of the high-difficulty revision spine surgeries had been taken from her entirely.
After hanging up, Wen Yan stood under the gym’s cold white lights, phone in hand, her fingertips turning faintly cold.
The meaning was obvious. The hospital had started avoiding her, shifting the difficult, high-risk surgeries to other people in one sweep.
That was not good news for her.
The glass door was pushed open softly.
Jin Zijin came up from behind and wrapped her arms around Wen Yan’s waist, resting her chin in the hollow of Wen Yan’s shoulder. Warm breath brushed the side of her ear.
“What’s wrong? Why do you look so bad?” Her voice was soft, full of concern.
Wen Yan turned around and hugged her back. She lifted a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind Jin Zijin’s ear, then said lightly, pretending nothing was wrong, “The surgeries for Monday changed. Three were cut, so work’ll be a little easier.”
Jin Zijin’s arms tightened around her. Her fingers combed gently through Wen Yan’s long hair, her tone tender. “That’s good. It means you can relax a little on Monday.”
“You’ve worked hard all year; taking a little breather is fine, isn’t it?”
“Mm.” Wen Yan nodded, her gaze steady. “It just so happens I can recharge. There’s still a tough battle ahead.”
She meant Lin Weiwei’s reconstructive surgery.
Looking at the light in Wen Yan’s eyes, Jin Zijin felt both proud and heartbroken.
She lowered her head and pressed a gentle kiss to Wen Yan’s lips. “Good. Our Dr. Wen is the best. No matter what happens, I’ll be with you.”
As soon as she finished speaking, a soft “meow” sounded from the gym doorway.
Both of them looked down at once and saw Mi Tang padding over in tiny steps, crouching at the door to stare at them. Its round eyes were full of confusion, as if asking: Why did you run in here? What are you sneaking around for?
Wen Yan was amused. She bent down and scooped it up into her arms. The little thing immediately burrowed in, purring with satisfaction.
Jin Zijin reached out to rub Mi Tang’s head, then squeezed Wen Yan’s hand. “Let’s go back. We’ll stay in the living room for a while.”
The three of them returned to the living room together, where warm yellow light settled over them once more.
Wen Yan sat on the sofa with Mi Tang curled on her lap, still holding the same book she hadn’t turned a page in.
Jin Zijin sat beside her and continued the meeting she hadn’t finished.
She freed one hand, but kept holding Wen Yan’s hand the whole time, her fingertips idly tracing the center of Wen Yan’s palm.
The subordinates on the other end of the screen exchanged glances as they watched their CEO attend a meeting while smiling so gently. Not one of them dared say a word.
Early Monday morning, just as the sky was barely beginning to lighten, the car drove out of the residential complex.
The main gate and side gate of the hospital were packed with reporters. Long lenses and cameras were lined up at the roadside like a flock of vultures waiting to feed. Even the staff shuttle buses had to be surrounded and photographed for ages.
The driver glanced at the scene ahead and turned back, looking troubled. “Dr. Wen, President Jin, the side gate is blocked too. What should we do?”
Jin Zijin held Wen Yan’s hand, her thumb gently rubbing Wen Yan’s palm. Her tone was calm, as if discussing good weather. “Take the underground parking entrance. I already spoke to the hospital administration; security will meet us at the garage entrance.”
Wen Yan turned to look at her, surprise written all over her face. “When did you arrange that?”
“After you fell asleep last night.” Jin Zijin squeezed her hand, warmth in her eyes. “I can’t let my Dr. Wen get blocked at the door and wronged by those reporters.”
The car successfully entered the underground garage. Security personnel were already waiting there and escorted Wen Yan straight into the inpatient building through the staff passage, not letting the reporters catch a single frame.
When Wen Yan changed into her white coat, the doctors from her department saw her and either lowered their heads and hurried away or gave a distant nod; not one of them dared say hello.
Wen Yan seemed not to notice. She changed quickly, picked up her chart, and headed straight for the operating room.
Even though three surgeries had been removed, several emergency minor operations were added at the last minute. So for the entire day, Wen Yan stayed in the OR.
She was busy from dawn until dusk. By the time the last surgery ended, the sky outside had gone completely dark.
Wen Yan took off her surgical gown; sweat slid down from her temples along her cheeks, and the scrub suit on her back was soaked through. Her arms hurt so much she could hardly lift them.
She leaned against the wall, let out a long breath, and closed her eyes before finally recovering from that crushing fatigue.
“Teacher Wen.”
A timid voice sounded nearby. Wen Yan opened her eyes and saw the scrub nurse Qiu Bo standing there, holding a bottle of warm water and offering it to her.
The girl had been in the department for half a year already; she had followed Wen Yan through surgery all day, and her eyes were full of admiration and concern.
“Teacher Wen, you were amazing today. You made all five surgeries perfect.”
She paused, then gathered her courage and looked at Wen Yan seriously. “Teacher, I’ve read everything they said online. I don’t believe any of it.”
“You’re the most responsible doctor I’ve ever seen, and the best surgeon too. I believe you’ll be fine.”
Wen Yan froze for a moment, then took the warm water. It was as if something had lightly scalded her heart; warmth spread through her chest.
She curved her lips and smiled at the girl. Her voice was still a little hoarse. “Thank you, Xiao Qiu.”
When she came out of the operating room, Jin Zijin was already waiting at the end of the corridor.
Leaning against the wall with Wen Yan’s coat in her hands, she looked up at the sound of footsteps. The instant she saw Wen Yan, concern and tenderness flooded her eyes.
She hurried over, naturally took the chart from Wen Yan’s hands, and used her other hand to take Wen Yan’s cold hand, slipping it into her own pocket to warm it.
“Tired out?” Jin Zijin lowered her head to look at the dark circles beneath Wen Yan’s eyes; her fingertips brushed gently over Wen Yan’s cheek. “The car’s waiting downstairs. I made soup hot for you at home.”
Wen Yan let herself be led toward the elevator, leaning against her as if she’d lost every ounce of strength.
“President Jin is so good to me,” she said softly, her voice full of weariness.
“If I’m not good to you, then who should I be good to?” Jin Zijin smiled and pinched her hand.
The moment the elevator doors closed, she lowered her head and pressed a light kiss to Wen Yan’s forehead.
The rumors had been fermenting noisily for four days.
From Monday, when Wen Yan was pushed into the center of the storm, the tag #IncompetentDoctorWenYan# stayed on the trending list for three days. Hengxing Technology and Tianqi Real Estate’s stock prices fell along with it for three days too.
Jin Zijin’s assistant sent her public opinion reports every day. Inquiry calls from partners came one after another, but she remained as steady as a mountain, only instructing the team to preserve evidence and making no unnecessary public relations moves.
She stayed motionless and silent; that made the Wang family increasingly anxious. Wang Jinyu even secretly called Jin Zijin’s assistant many times to ask about the situation, but the reply he got each time was the same: wait.
Finally, on Wednesday night, the moment arrived.
At eight o’clock, during peak internet traffic, the media linked to Ye Jianlan suddenly released a video.
In the video, a girl sat in a wheelchair and smiled at the camera in greeting. It was Zhang Yue, the car-crash patient Wen Yan had operated on half a year ago.
Holding her medical records and imaging films, Zhang Yue said word for word, “Half a year ago, I was in a severe side-impact car accident. My pelvis was shattered, and my spine was injured too.”
“At the time, many doctors said I might never be able to stand again. It was Dr. Wen Yan who performed my surgery.”
She paused, her eyes reddening slightly, but she still smiled at the camera. “Now I can walk normally, and I’ve recovered very well. Dr. Wen is not only skilled, but also gentle and responsible. She is definitely not the kind of incompetent doctor they’re calling her online. I will always believe in her.”
She also showed the camera videos of herself walking during recovery after surgery, as well as the surgical wounds that had already healed.
The video shot to the top of the trending list almost immediately.
Right after that, patients Wen Yan had treated before began speaking up one after another.
An elderly woman in her seventies said Wen Yan had been patient and meticulous, and that the hip replacement Wen Yan performed on her had been a complete success.
A young athlete said Wen Yan had saved her career.
An ordinary office worker said Wen Yan had worked overtime to come up with a surgical plan for her and had been especially attentive even during follow-up visits.
Dozens of real cases, one after another, with vivid patient testimonies, swept away the earlier curses like a tide.
Looking at these concrete pieces of evidence, netizens gradually began to come back to their senses. The public opinion started to reverse, and the tag #DrWenYanPatientTestimonials# slowly climbed toward the front page of the trending list.
Wen Yan sat on the sofa, looking at the patients she had once treated with such care now standing up for her. Her nose stung again and again.
Jin Zijin sat beside her, pulled her into her arms, and patted her back gently, like soothing a child.
“See? The people you saved all remember your kindness.” Jin Zijin lowered her head and kissed the corner of Wen Yan’s reddened eye.
Mi Tang jumped down from the sofa armrest and squeezed itself between them, rubbing its head against Wen Yan’s hand and meowing for attention.
Wen Yan looked down at it. The little thing had lifted its head, its round eyes full of dependence. She reached out and rubbed its head, and the sourness in her heart seemed to ease little by little.
But no one expected the reversal to last less than two hours before everything took a sharp turn.
At ten at night, two anonymous exposé posts exploded across the internet at the same time.
publicly accusing Zhang Sheng, an orthopedic doctor at the Peking University-affiliated hospital,
At the same time, in his hometown, he had long since married and had children; he abandoned his wife and child, and relied on his first wife’s family’s financial support to get into medical school, only to turn around and deny them all.
The post was packed with details.
Zhang Sheng’s greasy comments in the chat logs, his contempt for patients—every line was enough to leave people staring in disbelief.
The second post was even more explosive.
publicly accused the chief mentor Song Yu at the orthopedic research institute Audio recordings and email evidence were attached as well.
And Zhang Sheng and Song Yu were both disciples personally taken in by Dean Wang Fu.
Overnight, the entire internet blew up.
#PKUOrthopedicsScandal# and #WangFuBadDiscipleManagement# shot straight to the top of the trending list.
The storm over Wen Yan’s name had not even settled yet, and now two more disciples with corrupt morals and ugly conduct had been exposed in succession. The netizens’ fury was instantly ignited.
“One, two, three; all of them are Wang Fu’s students. A crooked beam makes crooked rafters!”
“If Wen Yan got this much favoritism from her, how could she be any good? Birds of a feather; the whole department is a tumor!”
“This is how Peking University Medical School teaches students? Where did the compassion of a doctor go?”
The flood of abuse spread from Zhang Sheng and Song Yu to Wang Fu, then to the entire orthopedic department at Peking University, and finally smashed back down on Wen Yan.
The reputation that had just begun to improve plummeted back to the bottom in an instant, even worse than before. Even labels like “tumor” and “pariah” were firmly stuck to her.
Wen Yan stared at the filthy words on her phone screen, her whole mind going blank.
She sat on the sofa and couldn’t come back to herself for a long time.
Birds of a feather?
This was what birds of a feather looked like.
Jin Zijin’s phone vibrated in her hand; it was a call from Ye Jianlan.
As soon as she answered, Ye Jianlan’s curse came through the line: “Damn it, the other side is too shameless.”
“In order to bring Wang Fu down, they actually sold out both disciples at once. They’re trying to ruin Wang Fu’s name for the rest of her life.”
Jin Zijin took the phone and went out to the balcony to answer, her brows tightly furrowed.
She had long known the Lu family was nasty, but only after experiencing it herself did she realize they truly had no bottom line.
Just to strike at the Peking University medical system, just to steal Jiang Linyue’s project, they were willing to use Wang Fu’s lifelong reputation as a bargaining chip.
How educational.
After hanging up, Jin Zijin returned to the living room and saw that Wen Yan was still in the same posture as before, staring blankly at the floor.
Mi Tang was crouched at her feet, rubbing its head against her hand; Wen Yan didn’t react at all.
Jin Zijin walked over, crouched in front of her, and gently took her cold hand. “Yan Yan, don’t take it to heart.”
Wen Yan slowly lifted her head, her eyes full of confusion and disbelief.
“How could they do that…” Her voice was trembling. Her eyes were red, but she didn’t cry. “Master spent her whole life practicing medicine and saving people; how could they ruin her reputation like this… How could Zhang Sheng and Song Yu do something like this…”
She wasn’t upset because she herself had been dragged into it.
She was heartbroken for Wang Fu.
That seventy-year-old elder had devoted her entire life to orthopedic clinical practice and teaching, with students all over the world.
And in the end, she had to be saddled by the disciples she herself had taught with the label of “bad disciple management,” then be cursed by the entire internet.
Looking at Wen Yan’s reddened eyes, Jin Zijin felt pain like a needle had pierced her heart.
She reached out, pulled Wen Yan into her embrace, and held her tight.
“I know. I know everything.” Her voice was very light, but especially certain. “It’s not Master’s fault, and it’s not your fault. After all, no one can guarantee that a person will be perfect.”
“Compared with you, those two as entry points…”
She couldn’t really go on.
From her perspective, she truly couldn’t understand Wang Fu. Something as important as taking on disciples—why hadn’t she done any background checks first?
Still, the older generation always had a kind of idealistic innocence.
Without the same experiences or the same environment, it was better not to criticize others too casually.
Jin Zijin patted Wen Yan’s back, soothing her feelings.
Mi Tang jumped up onto the sofa and squeezed between them, rubbing its head against Wen Yan’s face, its throat vibrating with a soft mew.
The living room was quiet. Only that thin purring sound mingled with their breathing.
No one expected there to be something even worse waiting behind it.
At noon the next day, Wang Fu called Zhang Sheng into her office and gave him a fierce scolding.
Sharp-eyed people noticed that Zhang Sheng had come bursting out of the dean’s office with a bruise on his forehead, looking panicked.
Then, at a little after eleven that night, just as Wen Yan was preparing to rest with Jin Zijin, her phone suddenly rang.
It was her shimu.
The instant the call connected, her shimu’s tearful voice came through in a fluster: “Yan Yan, your master… your master was so angered by those two unfilial disciples that his heart acted up. He’s just been sent to the emergency room for resuscitation. Can you come over?”
Wen Yan’s face went white instantly; the phone in her hand nearly slipped out.
“Don’t worry, Shimu. I’m coming right now! I’ll be there immediately!”
After hanging up, she hurriedly fumbled into her clothes, her fingers shaking.
Jin Zijin immediately steadied her, her tone calm as she comforted her. “Don’t panic, Yan Yan. Don’t panic. I’ll go with you. It’ll be fine; Master has the fortune of good people.”
As she spoke, she quickly called the driver, grabbed a thick coat, and took Wen Yan’s hand as they headed outside.
Mi Tang seemed to sense something. It jumped down from the bed and chased them to the door, looking up at them and meowing as if it wanted to follow.
Wen Yan crouched down and rubbed its head, her voice still trembling a little. “Mama is going to the hospital to see Grandpa. Be good at home, okay?”
Mi Tang rubbed against her hand, as if it understood, and stayed crouched by the door without following.
The car sped through the night streets.
Wen Yan leaned back in the rear seat, her palms soaked with sweat. Jin Zijin kept holding her hand tightly, the warmth of her fingers flowing over and over again into Wen Yan, only then allowing her to settle a little.
Twenty minutes later, the car stopped at the entrance of the hospital’s emergency building.
Shimu was waiting at the door. When she saw them arrive, she immediately came up to meet them. Her eyes were red, but she didn’t look as panicked as she had on the phone; instead, she seemed a little… guilty?
“Shimu, how is Master?” Wen Yan asked hurriedly, her voice trembling.
Shimu led them toward the inpatient building and lowered her voice. “It’s fine, nothing serious. His blood pressure just shot up and he felt tight in the chest. I was afraid something would happen, so I called an ambulance to bring him in.”
She paused, looked left and right, then leaned toward Wen Yan and lowered her voice even more. “He’s faking illness to avoid the reporters.”
“Otherwise, the phone at home would be blown up tonight, and the reporters would be crowding the door too. The old man said that at a time like this, ‘falling ill’ is the best shield. No one will get to block him and ask questions.”
Wen Yan froze on the spot. The weight in her chest dropped at once, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Jin Zijin, standing beside her, also couldn’t help but curve her lips after hearing this. She squeezed Wen Yan’s hand and said softly, “So Master is… strategically pretending to be sick?”
“Exactly.” Shimu sighed, both angry and amused. “That old man has been stubborn all his life; how could he be laid low by something like this? Come on, let’s go in and see him. He’s waiting for you.”
Following Shimu into the VIP ward, they saw Wang Fu lying in the hospital bed with a cardiac monitor attached to her. When she saw them come in, she even winked at them; there was not the slightest trace of weakness from a heart attack.
Wen Yan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as she hurried over. “Master! You scared me to death!”
Wang Fu sat up and waved a hand, telling Shimu to go out first. With only the three of them left in the room, she pointed to the chairs by the bed and told them to sit.
“Those two unfilial disciples aren’t enough to anger me to death.” She sighed, her voice full of helplessness. “I’ve seen far more storms in my life than this; that bit of dirty water won’t drown me.”
She paused, then looked at Wen Yan. Her gaze fell on the dark circles under Wen Yan’s eyes, and her own eyes were full of distress and guilt. “It’s you, child, who’s been wronged.”
“Because of our mess, you were dragged in for no reason and cursed like this. I didn’t protect you well.”
Wen Yan’s nose stung. She hurriedly shook her head. “Master, don’t say that. I’m not wronged. It’s you—your lifelong reputation, and they’ve trampled it like this…”
“Reputation isn’t something you talk into existence; it’s built by one surgery after another over a lifetime.” Wang Fu waved a hand, her tone clear-headed. “Those things online can’t hurt me in the slightest.”
“I’ve been a doctor all my life. I’ve saved how many people, taught how many students; I know that for myself. It’s not up to them to point fingers.”
Then her expression changed, and she looked at Wen Yan with particular seriousness. “I called you here for something important.”
Wen Yan immediately straightened up.
“Lin Weiwei’s recovery after surgery is very good. The swelling has completely gone down, the spinal cord pulsation has remained very stable, and the superficial sensation in the distal limbs is gradually returning.” Wang Fu looked at her, admiration in her eyes. “The situation is much better than we expected.”
Wen Yan’s eyes lit up at once. “Really? Then her neurological function…”
“The emergency surgery you did was excellent. The decompression was thorough, and you preserved her spinal cord nerves to the greatest extent possible.” Wang Fu cut in, speaking clearly and word for word. “Now her vital signs are stable, and all indicators meet the surgical requirements. We can do the second-stage surgery next week.”
She paused, then broke the surgical plan down for Wen Yan in detail. “For the first emergency surgery, we prioritized saving her life. We did urgent anterior cervical decompression and temporary fixation, stabilized her spine, and preserved the spinal cord’s blood supply.”
“Now for the second stage, we need to thoroughly explore the spinal canal, release the spinal cord adhesions, and then perform posterior bone graft fusion with internal fixation to stabilize her cervical spine completely.”
“At the same time, we’ll handle the second-stage repair of the pelvic fracture and create the best possible conditions for nerve recovery.”
She looked at Wen Yan, her gaze firm. “With your skills, you can absolutely take this surgery down.”
“And based on her current recovery, if the second-stage surgery goes well and rehabilitation keeps up, not only will she not be paralyzed; getting back on her feet… even returning to the rink isn’t impossible.”
Wen Yan’s eyes grew brighter and brighter. Excitement surged in her heart, along with a trace of disbelief.
Back when she had done that surgery with everything she had, she had only wanted to save Lin Weiwei’s life and preserve her spinal cord. She had never dared hope that Lin Weiwei might have a chance to stand on the ice again.
“Master, you… you want me to be the lead surgeon for the second surgery?”
“Who else would be more suitable than you?” Wang Fu patted her hand, her tone certain. “This surgery is the key to whether Lin Weiwei can stand up again, and it’s also the key to whether you can get through this hurdle.”
She paused, then fixed Wen Yan with a blazing gaze. “No matter how people outside call you an incompetent doctor, no matter how much they say you only got to where you are through connections, you have to remember this: as a doctor, you must always put the patient’s physical health and life safety first.”
“Don’t let it affect you, and don’t act on impulse. Control your emotions. Treat yourself like the most perfect work machine; like that tech medical pod you mentioned, brand-new and devoted entirely to serving the patient.”
“Don’t worry; Master will be there with you the whole time, holding the line. Whether you can get over this hurdle in the end will still depend on you.”
She leaned slightly forward and looked into Wen Yan’s eyes. “Do you dare take it?”
Looking at the absolute trust in her master’s eyes, Wen Yan’s throat tightened slightly.
She thought of everything she had endured these past days.
The overwhelming curses, the averted gazes, the gloating looks.
And then she thought of all the warmth: Jin Zijin’s embrace, Mi Tang’s nuzzling, the patients’ testimonies, and now the light in her master’s eyes.
She nodded hard, her voice carrying a trace of emotion yet remaining unwavering:
“I do.”
“Thank you, Master. Thank you for believing in me.”
Standing to the side, Jin Zijin watched this scene, a gentle smile rising in her eyes.
She had known it all along; her Dr. Wen would never be brought down by something like this.
In the deep night, the light in the ward shone brilliantly warm.
Holding her master’s hand, Wen Yan knew it very clearly: this battle, she had to win.
And she would.