godfather of surgery

Chapter 1345 The Return of Director Zhu
A black Maybach smoothly drove into the Nandu High-tech Zone. Dark privacy film tinted the windows, reflecting the modern buildings and green belts rushing past on either side of the road. Inside, Zhu Cheng put down the latest "Global Medical Cost-Effectiveness Analysis Report on Systemic Modulation Therapy and K Therapy," took off his gold-rimmed glasses, and rubbed his temples.

At over forty years old, time has not left many marks on his face; instead, it has given him a refined and capable air. His impeccably tailored dark gray bespoke suit, meticulously styled hair, and a discreet Patek Philippe watch on his wrist all speak volumes about his current status and position—President of the international headquarters of a top-tier health insurance company under the Anning Group, earning an annual salary of over 100 million yuan and managing a health insurance fund pool worth hundreds of billions of dollars.

The car stopped in front of the Ruixing Medical Building. The assistant quickly got out and opened the car door for him. Zhu Cheng nodded slightly, stepped out, and looked up at the towering glass curtain wall building in front of him with a complicated expression.

"Mr. Zhu, Mr. Huang Jiacai from Ruixing Medical is already waiting in the conference room," the assistant whispered.

“Okay.” Zhu Cheng withdrew his gaze, regaining the composure of a business elite, and entered the building under the guidance of Ruixing staff. His most important business trip back to China, besides visiting relatives, was to negotiate with Ruixing Medical, and even the Sanbo Research Institute behind it, to include Systemic Regulation Therapy and its flagship application, K-Therapy, in the reimbursement catalog of “Global Health Care” high-end medical insurance. This was not merely a business collaboration, but also a crucial strategic move for the company's future, based on his professional judgment.

The meeting took place in the conference room on the top floor of Ruixing. Huang Jiacai personally received the team, and both teams engaged in in-depth and efficient discussions on the core concepts, efficacy data, cost structure, risk management, and potential new therapies derived from systemic regulatory therapy. Zhu Cheng's profound understanding of the medical profession and his keen grasp of actuarial science and risk control left a deep impression on Huang Jiacai.

"Mr. Zhu is indeed an expert, his insights are spot on," Huang Jiacai exclaimed. "Incorporating highly individualized and dynamic therapies like systemic regulation into the standard insurance framework does present many challenges. But as you said, its potential to adjust the system at its root and reduce the risk of long-term complications and relapses may be more cost-effective in the long run and more in line with the evolving trend of insurance's 'prevention is better than cure' philosophy."

Zhu Cheng smiled and said, "Mr. Huang, you flatter me. I was just thinking from the perspectives of both the user and the payer. System regulation will inevitably be the new model of medicine in the future, and Anning Global Health Care is willing to be the first to try it."

The initial cooperation agreement was successfully reached. Both parties agreed that their respective teams would further refine the plan, especially the assessment criteria and cost settlement mechanism for different diseases and stages.

After the meeting, Huang Jiacai personally escorted Zhu Cheng to the elevator. As they parted, Zhu Cheng suddenly asked, "Mr. Huang, if I may ask, is Professor Yang Ping at the research institute today? If it's convenient, I'd like to pay him a visit in a private capacity."

After a moment's thought, Huang Jiacai communicated with Sanbo and said with a smile, "Professor Yang just finished a case discussion and is free now. He heard you're back and is very happy to see you."

"Thank you," Zhu Cheng nodded.

Half an hour later, Zhu Cheng's car entered the relatively low-key and quiet Sanbo Research Institute. Compared to the modern business atmosphere of the Ruixing Building, the institute was shaded by green trees, with a more tranquil atmosphere and a strong sense of focus typical of academic institutions.

Led by Tang Shun, Zhu Cheng entered Yang Ping's office. The room was spacious and bright, simply furnished, with the most eye-catching feature being a bookcase that occupied almost an entire wall, filled with professional books and documents, and a few thriving green plants in the corner.

"Professor Yang, it's been a long time." Zhu Cheng extended his hand, his tone sincere.

Yang Ping shook hands with him, calmly sizing up his former colleague, now a senior executive at an insurance giant. "Mr. Zhu, please sit down. Mr. Huang told me that you have insightful views on incorporating systems therapy into insurance."

"I dare not claim to have profound insights in front of you, but I am merely offering some thoughts from another perspective." Zhu Cheng sat down on the sofa, relaxed yet displaying ample respect. "I have seen many cases of K-therapy, especially the data on the recovery of late-stage cancer patients like Sisi, which are truly astounding. This is not just about curing a disease, but about changing the trajectory of a person's and a family's destiny. From an insurance perspective, this is priceless. But how to transform this 'priceless' value into a sustainable payment model is a challenge."

The two didn't exchange many pleasantries and went straight to the point. Zhu Cheng presented part of the analytical model he brought, exploring the possibility of setting payment nodes according to different disease stages and regulatory goals. Yang Ping, on the other hand, explained the complexity and dynamism of system regulation from a medical practice perspective, emphasizing the difficult challenge of balancing standardized assessment with individualized and flexible adjustments.

“We might need a model of ‘framework contract plus dynamic adjustment’,” Zhu Cheng said thoughtfully. “We set payment standards, but at the same time reserve a certain ‘expert judgment floating space’ so that a special committee can determine the reasonableness of payment for special cases. Of course, this requires a very high degree of trust and transparency.”

Yang Ping nodded: "Trust is the foundation, and data transparency is the key. All our treatment processes and data are traceable on the platform, which may be the basis for building this trust and transparency."

The conversation gradually shifted from business cooperation to other topics. Zhu Cheng proactively mentioned his early experience as a doctor, his words devoid of boasting, instead displaying a calm acceptance born of experience. Yang Ping vividly remembered the sensational "colon abandonment" controversy at the Provincial People's Hospital several years ago, when he had just graduated.

Later, through his connection with Director Tianyuan, Yang Ping met Zhu Cheng a few times. Yang Ping had always felt sympathy for Director Zhu, and now seeing him in high spirits, he felt completely relieved.

“Sometimes, leaving an environment allows you to see more clearly and go further,” Zhu Cheng said calmly, a fleeting, elusive emotion flashing in his eyes.

The visit concluded in a cordial and constructive atmosphere. Zhu Cheng left his personal contact information, expressing his anticipation for future cooperation. Yang Ping then escorted him to his office door.

Zhu Cheng went to visit his old friend Tian Yuan at the Overseas Chinese Building. Director Tian had been promoted to the head of the Overseas Chinese Building and was in charge of the entire building. This shrewd and capable scholar was still as handsome and charming as ever.

The two were extremely excited to see each other. Back when they were studying in the United States, Director Zhu and Tian Yuan were roommates and had a deep friendship.

“Let’s have a good chat tonight. I’ve also invited Lao Cheng. It’s just a few brothers, no outsiders.” Director Zhu patted Tian Yuan on the shoulder.

Old Cheng is Cheng Liquan. The current Liquan Hospital is a world-class private hospital, a far cry from the makeshift operation that used to be. Director Zhu recalled those days when the three of them were full of ideals and visions.

Everyone is doing well now. Although he did not continue his ideal of practicing medicine, he is fulfilling his vow of "health is entrusted to him, life is entrusted to him" in another way.

Leaving the Sanbo Research Institute and settling back into his car, Zhu Cheng's businesslike smile gradually faded. He leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes to rest. His assistant cautiously asked, "Mr. Zhu, shall we go back to the hotel?"

"Go to a place." Zhu Cheng opened his eyes and gave an address—a prison in Nandu. He had already made an appointment with an old friend there.

The assistant was clearly taken aback for a moment, but his professionalism prevented him from asking any further questions. He immediately signaled the driver to turn around.

Following the route set by Director Zhu, the car passed by the Provincial People's Hospital. He rolled down the window and turned to look.

It doesn't look like much has changed. This place once held his ideals and held many memories: his first night shift, his first surgery as the lead surgeon...

As the car drove away from the bustling city center, the scenery outside the window gradually became more open and spacious. Zhu Cheng looked at the fields and factories rushing past the window, and his thoughts seemed to drift back to that dark period of many years ago.

At that time, he was a promising young associate chief physician in the Department of General Surgery at the Provincial People's Hospital, with superb skills and a bright future. Until a journalist named Wang Ge, with a report that completely disregarded the facts and inflammatory, plunged him into the abyss. The report distorted a "colonic bypass" surgery he performed due to the patient's extremely complex condition and the need to save their life, into a case of "the patient owing money, and the doctor maliciously hanging the intestine outside the abdomen as revenge." The accompanying photo showed the patient's abdominal wall with an intestinal colostomy bag after the surgery, and the text was extremely sensational, directly accusing him of being "utterly heartless" and "worse than a pig or a dog."

The article went viral online, igniting public resentment towards the chaos in the medical field. Uninformed netizens launched a barrage of criticism, the media followed suit with sensationalism, and netizens subjected him to extreme online harassment and doxxing. His child had to drop out of school and return home, and even his wife was pointed at and gossiped about when she went grocery shopping.

The Provincial People's Hospital was under immense pressure. Despite his best efforts to explain, provide surgical records and medical history, and receive testimony from colleagues, rational voices were rendered powerless in the face of overwhelming public opinion. Hospital leaders were fully aware that it was a perfectly normal surgery, but in order to "quell the situation" and "give an explanation to the public," they ultimately adopted a conciliatory approach, implying that he should "take a break" and "lay low," which was essentially a disguised way of forcing him to resign.

At that moment, he experienced the devastating power of public opinion, the feeling of being unable to defend himself, and the profound sense of helplessness and heartbreak. He lost his beloved job, bore the burden of public condemnation, and his family was also shrouded in darkness.

If it weren't for his wife's unwavering support, her ability to withstand immense pressure, and her belief in him, he would have truly ended up with his wife and children separated, his family destroyed, and his life ruined.

He didn't succumb to despair; the immense humiliation and resentment transformed into a powerful force. He left the medical industry and, relying on his solid professional knowledge and indomitable spirit, started as a medical consultant, gradually making his way into the international health insurance field. He studied business, finance, law, and insurance-related English, and with his sharp mind and unwavering effort, carved out a niche for himself in this entirely new field.

Meanwhile, he never forgot the instigator—Wang Ge. Over the years, he secretly gathered information and utilized some commercial investigative resources, uncovering a shocking truth: Wang Ge was not simply a "ruthless journalist." He had clandestine connections with certain foreign capital, particularly a Japanese interest group, receiving long-term funding to systematically smear and manipulate public opinion against outstanding talents and institutions in the domestic medical and technological fields, aiming to achieve his ulterior motives. That report about him was just one example. With conclusive evidence, Zhu Cheng did not choose private revenge but instead submitted all materials to the relevant authorities through legal channels. Following an investigation, Wang Ge was ultimately sentenced to imprisonment for multiple crimes, including "damaging commercial reputation and product reputation," "picking quarrels and provoking trouble," and improper dealings with foreign forces.

The car stopped outside the prison. After strict identity verification and appointment confirmation, Zhu Cheng, led by a prison guard, arrived at the visiting area. He chose to meet with the prisoner via telephone, separated by glass.

After a short wait, the door opposite opened. A man in prison clothes, hunched over, with thinning gray hair, was wheeled in, and a prison guard helped him sit on the other side of the glass.

It was Wang Ge. After only a few years in prison, he looked twenty years older than his actual age, with sunken eyes and cloudy gaze. He had long lost the "spirit" he once had when he pointed out the country's affairs and stirred up emotions in the media.

Wang Ge picked up the phone somewhat blankly at first, but when he saw that the person sitting on the other side of the glass was Zhu Cheng, who was dressed in a suit and had an extraordinary demeanor, his cloudy eyes suddenly widened, his pupils contracted, his hand holding the phone trembled violently, and his face instantly lost all color.

Zhu Cheng looked at him calmly and picked up his own phone.

"Hey Reporter Wang, how have you been?" Zhu Cheng's voice came through the phone line, calm and unreadable.

Wang Ge's lips trembled as he stared intently at Zhu Cheng's expensive suit, his exquisite cufflinks, and the vaguely visible assistants and bodyguards waiting in the distance. The stark contrast burned into his heart like a red-hot iron. The "unscrupulous doctor" he had once written about, "worse than pigs and dogs," "deserving a thousand cuts," now appeared before him, a prisoner, in such a glamorous and successful manner!

"You...you..." Wang Ge's throat gurgled as he tried to say something, but he was unable to speak coherently due to extreme shock, jealousy, regret, and humiliation.

“I came to see you because I wanted you to see,” Zhu Cheng said in a calm tone, as if stating a fact that had nothing to do with him, “that pen you used back then ruined a doctor’s career, but it couldn’t ruin a person. As long as you don’t give up, there’s always a way out.”

He paused, his gaze sharp as a scalpel: "Of course, I also want to know, reflecting on these years behind bars, have you ever felt even a sliver of genuine remorse for that report, for those who were harmed because of you?"

“Repentance?” Wang Ge seemed stung by the word, and suddenly let out a hoarse laugh, his laughter twisted. “I’m not convinced… You… you think you’re clean? You’re all dressed up in a suit and tie now, looking all respectable, but who knows if your money is clean? Those insurance policies are just bloodsucking business!”

He tried to mask his breakdown and weakness with his attacks, but his trembling voice and evasive eyes betrayed him.

Zhu Cheng remained unmoved, merely shaking his head slightly: "It seems you're still the same as ever. Always putting yourself in the victim's position, always feeling that others have wronged you. As for whether my career is clean, the law and the market will have their say. At least, I don't profit by fabricating lies, selling my conscience, or colluding with outsiders to act as their lackeys."

The words "colluding with outsiders" pierced Wang Ge's most hidden sore spot like a needle. His past dealings with Japanese capital were one of the key factors in his conviction. His breathing suddenly quickened, and his chest heaved violently.

Zhu Cheng looked at his face, which flushed red with excitement and then quickly turned ashen, and continued, "I'm not here today to show off, nor to hear your confession. I just think you should see for yourself what kind of life the person you tried to bury with lies has become. This may make you understand what 'cause and effect' means more than any judgment."

"Now you should understand why I donated blood to save your life back then. I didn't want you to die like that. I wanted you to see with your own eyes how I can stand in front of you again. Do you see it now?"

"By the way, let me share with you that I now earn over 100 million a year, have a happy family, and am in good health, while you..."

After saying that, he stopped looking at Wang Ge's distorted face and prepared to hang up the phone.

"Wait!" Wang Ge suddenly shouted hoarsely, pressing one hand firmly against the glass, his eyes bulging as he stared intently at Zhu Cheng. "You... what are you... doing right now? How... how could this be..."

He wanted to know how this person he had trampled into the mud could climb so high and do so well! This was more painful than killing him!
Zhu Cheng paused, meeting his almost fiery gaze, and said clearly and slowly, "Anning Group, high-end insurance, global headquarters president. I came back this time to discuss with Professor Yang Ping of the Sanbo Research Institute the inclusion of Systemic Modulation Therapy and K Therapy in global high-end medical insurance. That's Professor Yang Ping, the Nobel Prize winner. We had a very good talk."

Every word was like a heavy hammer blow to Wang Ge's heart.

Anning Group... International President... Nobel Prize winner Yang Ping... Systemic Regulation Therapy... Each of these words represents the pinnacle of success, reputation, and influence in today's society, forming a stark contrast between hell and heaven for him, who is now behind bars, in prison garb, and with this stigmatized identity.

Moreover, a recent medical examination revealed that his health condition was very poor. He was paralyzed in the car accident and now suffers from uremia, requiring regular dialysis.

His only relative, his younger brother Wang Jian, was also utterly disappointed in him and left him, not visiting him for a long time.

His hometown, his relatives, friends, and classmates were all ashamed of him.

He once had the opportunity to use his pen to record real medical advancements and convey the truth, but he chose to use it to create lies, destroy an excellent doctor, and ultimately destroy himself.

"puff--"

The extreme stimulation, the unbearable contrast, and the deep-seated jealousy finally overwhelmed Wang Ge's already exhausted body and mind from his prison life. He felt a sweet taste in his throat, and a surge of hot, metallic liquid rushed up, causing him to actually spit out a mouthful of blood, which splattered onto the glass and table in front of him.

The phone slipped from his hand, his body slumped backward, his eyes still fixed on Zhu Cheng's direction, filled with disbelief, resentment, and ultimately, utter despair.

The prison guards were shocked to see this and immediately rushed forward to support Wang Ge, urgently calling for medical assistance over the walkie-talkie. On the other side of the glass, Zhu Cheng's assistant and the prison guards in the distance also quickly approached.

Zhu Cheng slowly put down the phone, calmly watching the scene across the blood-stained glass. Wang Ge, supported by a prison guard, was pale as paper, barely breathing, and on the verge of death. Gone was the excitement from before; only a deathly pallor remained.

He felt neither pleasure nor pity; his heart was like a frozen lake, utterly still. This man had been the direct instigator of his darkest hour, but had also indirectly forced him onto a path that might be broader. Today's meeting was merely a cold, definitive end to that past.

From this moment on, this person will be completely erased from his life.

The prison guard signaled the end of the visit. Zhu Cheng straightened his suit cuffs, turned around, and, accompanied by his assistant and entourage, walked steadily away from the visiting area, leaving the chaos and despair behind him forever behind bars.

Stepping out of the prison gates, the afternoon sun was bright and somewhat dazzling. Zhu Cheng squinted slightly and took a deep breath of the fresh, free air.

"Mr. Zhu, are you alright?" the assistant asked cautiously.

"It's nothing." Zhu Cheng shook his head and got into the car. "Back to the city. I have dinner appointments with old friends tonight."

The car started and drove away from this area that symbolized punishment and isolation. Zhu Cheng looked out the window at the scene that had become bustling again.

It's been almost ten years since I left the Provincial People's Hospital.