godfather of surgery

Chapter 1393 It's best to consult a doctor.

Yang Ping continued, "Also, did you notice that Professor Zhou's lab log says 'Synthesize a new type of chiral organophosphorus ligand'? If A-8 is the new compound he synthesized, then the whole incident might have been an accident. He synthesized a highly toxic compound, accidentally came into contact with it during the operation, suffered chronic poisoning, and eventually died."

He paused, looking at Zaxi: "This explanation is simpler than murder. It doesn't require a killer, a motive, or a complicated conspiracy."

Zaxi opened his mouth, but couldn't speak. Yang Ping was right; accidental poisoning was indeed simpler than murder. Moreover, it didn't require explaining so many suspicious points: How did the murderer get the key? How did they know which books Professor Zhou would be reading? How did they color the A-8 on the book?
But he always felt that something was wrong.

He thought for a long time, then suddenly asked a question: "Professor Yang, if Professor Zhou synthesized A-8 himself, then he should know the toxicity of this compound. Thirty years ago, he participated in the toxicological research of A-8, and he knows its LD50 and its dermal toxicity. Would someone who knows these things handle such a highly toxic compound with his bare hands without a fume hood or protective gear?"

Yang Ping looked at him, his gaze sharpening.

Zaxi continued, "Furthermore, if he synthesized A-8, why did he synthesize it in the first place? His lab log says 'novel chiral organophosphorus ligand.' He works on asymmetric catalysis, not pesticides. Why would a chemist working on asymmetric catalysis synthesize a pesticide that was banned thirty years ago?"

Yang Ping nodded: "You're gradually learning to reason. That's right, these two questions need to be answered."

He looked at Zaxi: "So we don't have one answer now, but two possible answers. One is murder, and the other is an accident. What we need to do is not to choose one to believe, but to find evidence to prove or rule out one of them. We mainly start from the aspects of drugs and human reactions."

He put down his pen, glanced at his watch, and said, "That's all for today. Go back and rest. After your surgery this afternoon, come with me to a place."

Zaxi asked, "Where are we going?"

Yang Ping said, "I need to check all the materials from that project from thirty years ago at the Nandu University Archives."

At 2 PM, Yang Ping and Zaxi arrived at Nandu University. The archives were on the top floor of the main building, a small room with a bronze plaque hanging at the door, the inscription somewhat faded. The archives were managed by a female teacher in her fifties, surnamed Sun, who wore reading glasses. She frowned when she heard they wanted to look up materials from thirty years ago.

“Officer Yu from the provincial department came with a team. He called and said you would be coming. The documents from thirty years ago are all stored in the old warehouse and haven’t been touched in a long time,” Teacher Sun said. “What do you want to investigate?”

Yang Ping said, "An internal report from 1992 was titled 'Synthesis and Toxicological Study of a Novel High-Efficiency Organophosphorus Insecticide A-8'."

After thinking for a moment, Ms. Sun said, "This... should be a project that the Pesticide Research Institute of the Ministry of Chemical Industry is collaborating with our department. Let me help you look for it." She stood up, walked to the door of the back warehouse, opened the door, and inside were rows of metal cabinets, with the smell of old paper filling the air.

About twenty minutes later, Ms. Sun came out carrying a stack of yellowed folders. She placed the folders on the table and patted off the dust: "These are project files from 1990 to 1995. What you're looking for should be in there."

Yang Ping and Zaxi sat down and began to look through the folders. Most of them contained project applications, annual reports, and documents detailing the use of funds, but not much valuable information.

When he turned to the third folder, Zaxi suddenly stopped. It was a handwritten experimental record, the handwriting was messy, but Zaxi recognized the signature: Zhou Huaijin, dated August 1991.

He began to carefully read the record. It concerned the synthesis and toxicological experiments of a compound codenamed "A-8." The record was very detailed, documenting the conditions for each reaction step, the purification methods for the product, and the design and results of the toxicological experiments.

Tashi saw the most crucial page—the summary of toxicity data. It read:

“A-8的急性经口LD50（大鼠）：0.8mg/kg。急性经皮LD50（大鼠）：2.5mg/kg。亚慢性毒性实验（90天）：低剂量组（0.05mg/kg/天）出现体重下降、食欲减退、胆碱酯酶活性抑制；中剂量组（0.1mg/kg/天）出现指尖色素沉着、肝细胞变性；高剂量组（0.2mg/kg/天）出现心肌纤维灶性坏死。”

Zaxi's hands began to tremble; these data were exactly the same as those that Director Zhang had read aloud that morning.

He continued reading, and the last page contained Zhou Huaijin's handwritten summary:

"A-8 has high insecticidal activity, with an LC50 of 0.1-0.5 ppm against agricultural pests such as bollworms and cabbage caterpillars, which is far superior to commercially available organophosphate insecticides at the time. However, its mammalian toxicity is too high, especially its dermal toxicity, making it unsuitable for use as a pesticide. It is recommended to terminate further development of this compound."

After Zaxi finished reading, he handed the record to Yang Ping. Yang Ping took it and read it from beginning to end. After reading it, he didn't say anything.

Then he turned to the last page, pointed to the summary written by Zhou Huaijin, and said, "Look at the last sentence of this passage."

Zaxi leaned closer to look: "I suggest terminating further development of this compound."

Yang Ping said, "This is a scientist's conscience. He discovered the toxicity of this compound and suggested stopping its development. It happened thirty years ago, so it might not have been that complicated. He probably just did what he was supposed to do."

Zaxi was stunned: "What about the threatening letter? It said, 'You think nobody knows about something that happened thirty years ago?'"

Yang Ping shook his head: "That's the problem. If someone uses this to threaten him, what kind of 'truth' does the threatening person know? Did Zhou Huaijin conceal the toxicity data? Or did Zhou Huaijin do the right thing but was misunderstood?"

Tashi opened his mouth, but couldn't answer.

Yang Ping closed the folder and placed it on the table. He said, "Zaxi, do you know that in clinical practice, the most difficult cases to diagnose are not the typical cases, but those that have been misdiagnosed by other doctors? Because misdiagnosis leaves a preconceived impression, leading you to look for evidence in the wrong direction."

He paused, then turned to look at Zaxi: "This case is the same. We now have two possible explanations: murder and accident. But if we've already decided on one, we'll unconsciously look for evidence to support it and ignore evidence that refutes it. This is the most common mistake clinicians make, and it's also the most common mistake investigators make."

Zaxi nodded, understanding Yang Ping's meaning: don't take a preconceived stance, let the evidence speak for itself.

Yang Ping stood up and handed the folder back to Teacher Sun: "We need to make a copy of these materials, is that alright?"

Teacher Sun nodded: "Okay, I'll go make copies for you."

After photocopying the documents, Yang Ping and Zaxi walked out of the archives. Zaxi followed behind Professor Yang, his heart heavy.

It was already 7 p.m. when Zaxi returned to the hospital. Back in his dormitory, he spread the photocopied documents on his bed and began to examine them one by one. He looked at them very carefully, not missing a single number or sentence. He wanted to find more clues—about A-8, about Professor Zhou, and about that project from thirty years ago.

He saw the last page of the internal report, which was a list of project team members. There were six people on the list. Zhou Huaijin was the third. The two people ahead of him were a researcher surnamed Liu from the Pesticide Research Institute of the Ministry of Chemical Industry, and a professor surnamed Fang from the Department of Chemistry at Nandu University, who had been retired for many years. The three people behind Zhou Huaijin were all ordinary members of the project team.

Zaxi stared at the list for a long time. Suddenly, a question popped into his head: what exactly was this "thing from thirty years ago" mentioned in the threatening letter? Was it that Zhou Huaijin had concealed toxicity data? Or something else entirely?

In fact, Officer Yu is also thinking about these issues now, but Zaxi's focus and approach are different.

He picked up his phone and sent a message to Yang Ping: "Professor Yang, are the two people listed before Professor Zhou on the project team member list still alive?"

A few minutes later, Yang Ping replied: "I checked, Researcher Liu passed away in 2010. Professor Fang is still alive, living in Nandu, and is 81 years old this year. Officer Yu will visit him tomorrow."

Zaxi breathed a sigh of relief; at least there was still one person he could ask.

He started looking at other materials. He suddenly stopped when he came across a meeting summary from 1992. The summary was about the review meeting for Project A-8, recording the statements of various experts. Zaxi flipped through the pages, and on the third page, he came across a passage:

"Researcher Liu from the Pesticide Research Institute of the Ministry of Chemical Industry: A-8 does indeed have high insecticidal activity, but the toxicity data needs further verification. According to the results of our repeated experiments, the dermal toxicity of A-8 is about 30% higher than the data reported by Professor Zhou. It is recommended to postpone further development of this compound until the toxicity data is confirmed."

Zaxi's mind went blank. The transdermal toxicity was 30% higher than Professor Zhou's reported data? What did that mean? Professor Zhou's reported data was 2.5 mg/kg; if it was 30% higher, that would be approximately 1.9 mg/kg. But that wasn't the key point—the key point was that Researcher Liu said "further verification is needed," implying that Professor Zhou's data might be problematic?
He continued reading, and there was Professor Zhou's response:

Professor Zhou Huaijin: Our experiments were conducted strictly in accordance with standard operating procedures, and the data is reliable. It is normal for there to be some differences in data between different laboratories, which may be related to factors such as animal strains and experimental conditions. We suggest that a third-party laboratory conduct repeated verification.

Then there were no more records. Zaxi flipped to the last page. The meeting's conclusion was: "Given the controversy surrounding the toxicity data of A-8, it is recommended to suspend the industrialization process of this project until a third-party laboratory completes replication verification before making a decision." After reading it, Zaxi took a picture of the minutes with his phone and sent it to Yang Ping. Then he sat on the bed, his mind a jumbled mess.

What if Professor Zhou's data is truly problematic? What if he underestimated the toxicity of A-8, allowing the project to be approved, only to have it halted later? Could this be the "thing from thirty years ago" mentioned in the threatening letter?
But Yang Ping is right; we shouldn't have preconceived notions, and we should let the evidence speak for itself.

He glanced at his watch; it was almost nine o'clock. He stood up, preparing to go to the cafeteria for a late-night snack. As he reached the door, his phone rang. It was a message from Yang Ping: "I saw the meeting minutes you sent. Interesting. Tomorrow morning, I'll go with you and Officer Yu to see Professor Fang."

Zaxi replied with a "Okay" and then walked towards the cafeteria.

The cafeteria wasn't crowded. Zaxi got a meal and found a corner to sit down. As he ate, he thought, his mind filled with the words on those documents—A-8, LD50, dermal toxicity, data disputes, threatening letters, and residue on the pages.

He ate a late-night snack, returned to his dorm, and reviewed the documents he had photocopied earlier that day. Around 10 PM, he couldn't stay awake any longer, so he put the documents away and turned off the lights.

Lying in bed, he closed his eyes, but those words kept replaying in his mind. He remembered Yang Ping's words: don't take sides, let the evidence speak for itself. He recalled Professor Zhou's lab log entry, "It is recommended to terminate further development of this compound"—was that a scientist's judgment, or a scientist's cover-up?
Zaxi turned over, forcing himself to stop thinking about those things.

At 6:30 a.m. on Monday, Zaxi was already sitting in the small conference room of the research institute. He reviewed the materials he had photocopied from the archives the day before, especially the meeting minutes and Professor Zhou's toxicology experiment records. He noticed a detail: Professor Zhou's experimental records contained very detailed data on transdermal toxicity, recording the dosage, reaction time, and time of death for each rat. However, in the lower right corner of one page, there was a small pencil mark that read, "Experiment repeated for the third time, results consistent." The mark was very faint and almost invisible without close inspection.

Why is there a line of text in the bottom right corner? Is it meant to prove something?

Yang Ping pushed open the door at exactly seven o'clock, carrying two cups of tea, placing one in front of Zaxi. Zaxi took it; the tea was still hot. "Where are Officer Yu and the others?" Zaxi asked.

“We plan to go directly to Professor Fang’s house. We can’t trouble an 81-year-old man too much.” Yang Ping sat down and opened the materials that Zaxi had compiled. “Professor Fang’s full name is Fang Mingyuan. He was one of the project leaders back then and Professor Zhou’s senior. He has been living in Nandu since he retired. It is said that he is in good health and his mind is still very clear. When Officer Yu contacted him last night, he heard that Professor Zhou had died. He was silent for a long time and then said one sentence, ‘What was bound to happen has happened.’”

Zaxi was taken aback: "It's finally happened? What does this mean?"

Yang Ping shook his head: "I don't know, so I'm going to ask him today."

At 7:30, Officer Yu's car arrived at the hospital entrance. This time, Officer Yu was alone; Xiao He stayed in the lab to process the test results for the books.

“Let Zaxi go with you. Contact me anytime if you need any help. I have something to do today, and actually you don’t need anything from me,” Yang Ping said to Officer Yu.

Zaxi got into Officer Yu's car, and Officer Yu handed him a document: "We found some more things last night. Director Zhang and Dr. Yuan suggested that I maintain close contact with you. After all, this kind of case is beyond our knowledge and it's easy to go astray. This isn't a matter of experience, but a matter of understanding. We also contacted a well-known chemist in China for consultation, but he is only proficient in chemical knowledge and lacks logical organization for the whole matter. He also suggested that it would be best to consult a doctor who understands toxicology. Doctors are best at using symptoms as clues to find the underlying causes and are good at organizing various elements together."

Zaxi took the document and looked at it. It contained more background information about Professor Zhou's project from thirty years ago. Officer Yu's voice came from the front row: "That A-8 project was shut down in 1992, and the project team was disbanded. But according to the information we found, before the project was shut down, a lot of funds had been invested, and even a small pilot production line was built. The Ministry of Chemical Industry had high hopes for this project, hoping that it could become a domestic product to replace the imported pesticides at that time."

He paused, then said, "After the project was cancelled, some people were held accountable. A deputy director of the Ministry of Chemical Industry was transferred from his post, and Professor Fang of the Chemistry Department of Nandu University was also criticized in a circular. But Professor Zhou was not held accountable because he was a key technical member of the project, and he insisted that his toxicity data was accurate."

Zaxi asked, "And then what happened?"

Officer Yu said, "That was the end of it. The project was completely shut down, all the data was archived, and the compound A-8 was never studied again. Until now."

Zaxi was silent for a moment, then asked, "Was the reprimand Professor Fang received back then serious?"

Officer Yu thought for a moment and said, "A public reprimand was considered a relatively lenient punishment at the time. But Professor Fang was a very proud person, and this incident was a huge blow to him. He never applied for any major projects again after that, and just taught in the department, mentored students, and retired when the time came."

Tashi nodded and said nothing more.

Professor Fang Mingyuan lived in a residential area in the old city of Nandu, not far from Nandu University. The neighborhood was quiet, with lush greenery and low-rise buildings, mostly six stories high, painted a beige color, and looked to be from the late 1990s. Officer Yu parked the car downstairs, and the four of them went up to the third floor. Professor Fang's son was already waiting at the door; he was in his forties, wore glasses, and looked very refined.

“Officer Yu, my father is waiting for you in the study.” He said in a low voice, “He didn’t sleep well all night after hearing about Professor Zhou’s matter.”

The study wasn't large, but it was very tidy. Two walls were lined with bookshelves, filled to the brim with books. A desk stood by the window, on which lay an open old photo album. Fang Mingyuan sat at the desk; he was eighty-one years old, his hair completely white, but he was in good spirits, his eyes clear. He wore a gray sweater, and held a fountain pen in his hand; his fingers had age spots, but his grip was steady.

Seeing Officer Yu and the others come in, Professor Fang slowly stood up, extended his hand, and said, "Thank you for your hard work!" His voice was a little hoarse, but his words were clear.

Officer Yu shook his hand: "Professor Fang, I apologize for disturbing you."

Professor Fang nodded, gesturing for them to sit down. He glanced at Officer Yu, then at Zaxi, and said, "Go ahead, what do you want to ask?"

Officer Yu didn't beat around the bush: "Professor Fang, thirty years ago, you and Professor Zhou participated in Project A-8. I'd like to know the true story behind this project."

Professor Fang remained silent for a long time. He lowered his head and looked at the open old photo album on the table. Zaxi glanced at it; the album contained a black and white photograph of seven or eight people standing in white lab coats in front of a laboratory building. On the back of the photograph, written in pen, was a line of text: "Group photo of Project A-8, Spring 1991."

Professor Fang pointed to a person in the photo, his finger trembling slightly: "This is Huaijin. He was only thirty-two years old then, young, energetic, and the smartest person in the entire project team." His finger then moved to another person, "This is Director Liu from the Ministry of Chemical Industry, the driving force behind the project. He was later transferred, I heard he went to the Northwest, and then we lost touch with him." He paused, his voice becoming even lower, "This is my photo. I was young then, and I felt like I was doing something remarkable."

He closed the photo album, looked up at Yang Ping, and asked, "What do you want to know? Is it the toxicity data of A-8, or why the project was canceled?"

Officer Yu said, "Everyone is wondering, especially, whether there are any problems with Professor Zhou's toxicity data?"

Professor Fang's eyes narrowed slightly, as if stung by something. He remained silent for a long time, so long that Zaxi thought he wouldn't speak again. Then he said something, his voice very soft, but Zaxi heard it clearly: "Huaijin's data is fine."

Professor Fang continued, "The toxicity of A-8 is indeed very high. According to Huaijin's report, the dermal LD50 is 2.5 mg/kg, and this figure is accurate. Director Liu of the Pesticide Research Institute of the Ministry of Chemical Industry said that their repeated experiment results were 1.9 mg/kg, which is 30% lower than Huaijin's data. However, both data are on the same order of magnitude, and the difference is within an acceptable range. It is common sense that the results of toxicity experiments fluctuate."

He paused, his voice turning somewhat bitter: "The problem isn't whether the data is accurate or not. The problem is that someone doesn't want this project to continue."

Old Yu's gaze sharpened: "Who?"

Professor Fang shook his head: "I don't know. Maybe it was some people in the Ministry of Chemical Industry, maybe it was competitors from other research institutes, or maybe it was leaders who felt that the project's investment was too large and the output was uncertain. All I know is that at the project review meeting, someone raised the issue of toxicity data, and then that issue was blown out of proportion. The final result was that the project was suspended, pending third-party verification. But the third-party verification was never done, and the project was never restarted."

Zaxi couldn't help but ask, "What about Professor Zhou? Was he held accountable?"

Professor Fang glanced at him, his gaze somewhat complicated: "Huaijin wasn't held accountable because he was the most technically savvy person in the project team. Without him, the project would have been finished. But Huaijin himself felt betrayed."

Old Yu asked, "Betrayed by whom?"

Professor Fang was silent for a few seconds, then said, "By everyone, by the Ministry of Chemical Industry, by the school, by... his students."

Old Yu's fingers twitched slightly.

Professor Fang said, "After the project was canceled, Huaijin was depressed for a long time. He couldn't understand why a technically promising project would be stopped for non-technical reasons. He began to distrust everyone, including his superiors, colleagues, and even his own students."

He paused, then lowered his voice: "Especially Chen Wei."

Zaxi pricked up his ears. Chen Wei, Professor Zhou's student, is the founder of Weide Pharmaceuticals.