White armor

Chapter 776 Little Luo is surprisingly cunning!

"Doctor, how is the patient?"

When Chen Yan returned to the department, the head of the ward stood up to greet him.

"It's alright," Chen Yan gave a vague reply.

"I went to see her an hour ago..." The hospitalized general manager stammered a bit, then thought for a moment, "I feel like I'm dreaming."

Chen Yan understood perfectly what the hospital director meant.

"Xiao Meng" acts as a neural node, responsible for communicating with Professor Luo Haoluo. Other AI robots act as "Xiao Meng's" arms, completing various emergency and first-aid tasks with almost no delay.

This emergency treatment method has exceeded all expectations. No matter how skilled the medical team is, even Professor Luo's own team, they could not achieve such ease and fluency.

But "Xiao Meng" was able to do it.

After Professor Luo Haoluo nodded, the other AI robots began the rescue efforts. There was no communication, and each AI robot's actions were commendable.

It really feels like a dream.

Chen Yan breathed a sigh of relief.

"Doctor, do you think the patient will survive?"

"Yes." Chen Yan answered without hesitation.

"But on the operating table, why did Professor Luo give such a low percentage?" the head of the ward asked.

"Because he's a dog," Chen Yan said disdainfully. "If it were me, I could confidently say I could save him one hundred percent."

The hospital's general manager lowered his head, seemingly not wanting Chen Yan to see his expression.

Chen Yan didn't care. He sighed, "Professor Luo is good in every way, except for his dog-like temper. He has no drive like a young man at all."

"Yes, indeed," the hospital director agreed.

"What are you doing?" Chen Yan noticed that the hospital's general manager's phone screen was constantly flashing, as if he was chatting about gossip in a group.

Medical groups are generally quiet and rarely gossip, so Chen Yan was quite curious.

"It is said that someone performed CPR on a female patient, and after the patient was rescued, she accused the rescuer of molestation."

"Director, tell me, what kind of mess is this!"

"No wonder the first step before a rescue is to assess whether the environment is safe. This is far too unsafe. In the future..."

Chen Yan stroked his beard and said in a deep voice, "Shut up."

"???"

The hospital's general manager was taken aback.

"What nonsense are you spouting?" Chen Yan said disdainfully. "Let me give you an example, Professor Luo's giant panda bamboo, you know?"

"I understand." The head of the hospital nodded.

"I heard Dr. Chen mention it a couple of times. Apparently, the base was planning to launch a wild giant panda project, so they chose a strong, captive-bred giant panda."

Without any prior training, Bamboo was simply thrown into the wild. When it first cried for help, the caretaker ran over and picked out numerous parasites from its body.

"Uh..." The hospital director was taken aback, completely unaware of what Director Chen was talking about.

"Later, Professor Zhang insisted that Zhu Zi go wild, and the panda keeper's hair turned white overnight. He could only ask Boss Xia for help. But even though Boss Xia is an academician, he can't interfere too much in matters within the system. That's why Professor Luo went to adopt Zhu Zi and complete the giant panda wild breeding project."

As for the later mascot for the Ice and Snow Festival, that's another story.

"Oh, oh," the hospital director replied, puzzled.

Chen Yan stroked his beard and said, "At first I found it strange. What's going on? Even though this world is a makeshift operation, it shouldn't be this sloppy."

“That’s right. Before conducting wild studies, we should teach captive giant pandas some skills. We can’t just put them directly into the wild. What’s the difference between that and killing the giant pandas?” the hospital director echoed.

"I heard from Xiao Luo a while ago that Professor Zhang was arrested."

"Huh?!" The hospital's general manager was stunned.

"It has nothing to do with corruption, he's a scoundrel."

"spy?!"

"Yes, they're just taking money from American foundations and doing things for them. I reckon they don't care whether the giant pandas are wild or not; what they care about are the desolate mountains and wilderness that the giant pandas pass through during their wild journeys, where who knows how many military bases are hidden."

"!!!"

"These were all left over from the Third Front construction period. This is Diezi's work."

"Holy crap, is that true?" the hospital director exclaimed in astonishment.

"All this mess you're talking about was done with money from European and American foundations. Otherwise, what was the name of that advertising guy again?"

The hospital's general manager looked completely bewildered.

Chen Yan thought for a long time, "Drinking Shede liquor is like going downhill."

"Oh, oh, oh, it's Old Yang!" the hospital director said.

“Yes,” Chen Yan said. “After that, when we ate together, she brought out Shede liquor on purpose to disgust people. You tell me, so many big companies still want her to do advertising. If there wasn’t insider trading, I’d never believe it.”

"..."

"They take money to brainwash people, and those who aren't smart enough get brainwashed. You're a graduate student, and forty years ago you were called an intellectual. Don't you even have this much discernment?" Chen Yan said disdainfully. "And you even encouraged it."

“But…” The hospital director wanted to object, but since he was facing his own director, his immediate superior, he could only swallow the rest of his words.

"Director, you're right."

"What did I say right?" Chen Yan asked with a chuckle, sounding particularly annoying.

"When Lao Yang's younger brother got married, she said to her sister-in-law, 'After you get married, live a good life together and have children as soon as possible. Don't listen to the nonsense on the Internet.'"

"That's right, it's a business deal, and you bunch of idiots actually believed it." Chen Yan started cursing.

The hospital's general manager thought about it and realized it made sense, chuckling awkwardly.

"Instead of wasting your time and energy on AI, Professor Luo has already developed it. What are you all complaining about behind his back? AI is stealing your jobs."

"Director, my classmate visited Xiaomi's car factory a few days ago. He said that more than 90% of the work there is automated. It's the first time I've ever seen a lights-out factory. It's amazing."

"Professor Luo's 'lights-out' hospital already has several successful cases. This time, we've seen the 'triple death'..."

As he spoke, Chen Yan paused for a moment, and a beard lip was snapped off.

"Holy crap, Ronaldinho is nothing like a dog! He's too flamboyant!"

"what?"

The head of the hospital had no idea what his department head was talking about.

Although the chances of survival for patients with the death triad are not high, Chen Yan was well aware of how elite Luo Hao's medical team was.

If it's for emergency treatment, there's no need to take AI robots like "Xiao Meng" to the ICU.

Professor Luo stepped down first, dealt with the opinions of the ICU and the hospital, and then took the AI ​​robot to the intensive care unit.

Can't he do it himself? Why go through all this trouble?
This is a demonstration!
From now on, there will be legends in the hospital about an AI robot team treating the "Triple Death Syndrome".

Even if others are worried about losing their jobs and don't say it, they are still hostile to AI robots deep down. Yet, these robots can handle the triple threat of death that they find difficult.

The so-called "death triad" is a stepping stone, breaking down people's prejudices.

Small tasks can be done by everyone, so everyone has a job; but for critically ill patients who are prone to complications, the AI ​​robot should be the one to handle them!
Chen Yan understood everything; that bastard Luo Hao was truly cunning.

But Chen Yan knew that there would be consequences for all of this, and that old dog Feng Zixuan was actually willing to "mess around" with Luo Hao.

He understood it in his heart, but he didn't say it out loud.

"Is the patient in the ward alright? You should get some rest and stop talking nonsense," Chen Yan said.

He returned to the director's office and lay down fully clothed, wanting to rest for a few hours.

Chen Yan was curled up on the sofa in the director's office, his white coat haphazardly draped over his body. The air conditioner vents hummed, but it couldn't dispel the weariness between his brows.

As soon as sleepiness came over me, my dreams became bizarre and fantastical.

He dreamt that "Xiao Meng's" robotic arm split into countless silver tentacles under the operating lights, like a Cthulhu monster in an operating room.

Each tendril was connected to an IV tube, the needle dancing in the air, searching for a vein that didn't exist. The monitor's alarm sounded like some eerie electronic tone, looping "Lactate 9.8, pH 6.9".

The dream suddenly switched.

He saw himself lying on the operating table, the camera lens of "Xiao Meng" extremely close, and a cold, mechanical voice announced: "The patient's vital signs are unstable; immediate open-chest CPR is recommended."

"The first step is to assess whether the environment is safe."

As the sharp scalpel slashed towards his chest, he realized with a start that he could not move.

The most terrifying thing is that recurring scene—the wall full of "Xiao Meng" clones simultaneously trying to save a row of bodies covered with white sheets.

Their robotic arms moved so fast they left afterimages, but the electrocardiogram monitor under the white sheet remained a straight line. One of the robots suddenly turned and said to him in a synthesized voice, "Director Chen, your resuscitation success rate is 37% lower than ours."

He woke up in a cold sweat just as the first light of dawn appeared outside the window.

The phone screen was lit up with a message from "Xiao Meng": "At 4:23 this morning, the patient in bed 3 suddenly experienced ventricular fibrillation and has undergone defibrillation three times. His vital signs are currently stable." A smiling emoji was attached at the end.

Chen Yan stared at the inappropriate smiling face, and for a moment felt as if even the AI ​​was mocking him. He wiped his face, his palms covered in cold sweat.

But when he wiped his sweat, Chen Yan truly "woke up".

It turns out that it was all just a dream, even the dawn was just a dream.

Chen Yan glanced out the window.

The summer night was like thick, unyielding ink, pressing heavily against the glass. In the distance, the lights of the inpatient ward distorted slightly in the heat, like fireflies floating on a black lake.

The air conditioner's outdoor unit hummed, its exhaust carrying hot air mixed with the acrid smell of the asphalt road, seeping in through the window cracks. In the distance, the neon sign for the emergency department stood out starkly in the night, the red characters for "Emergency" flashing intermittently, illuminating a few moths circling the light.

Occasionally, an ambulance would drive in, its blue light sweeping across the hospital room ceiling before disappearing in an instant. Further away, the city's skyscrapers were reduced to blurry outlines, with a few scattered lit windows resembling lanterns suspended in the air.

The night breeze carried a strange smell, a mixture of disinfectant and some kind of tropical plant.

The broad leaves of the banana trees in the backyard of the inpatient department drooped listlessly, and the cicadas, which had been wilting in the sun during the day, were now silent. Only the crickets, which were hiding somewhere, chirped intermittently.

Occasionally, a few indistinct voices could be heard, perhaps the shift nurses changing shifts, or perhaps a patient who couldn't sleep was pacing in the corridor. The sounds seemed particularly distant in the sweltering summer night, as if they came from another world.

"Forget it, I'm not going to sleep anymore," Chen Yan got up, stroking his beard, his head throbbing with pain.

His mind was filled with the AI ​​robot's tacit and skillful rescue actions.

I wonder how the AI ​​robot in the ICU is doing. Is Professor Luo still sitting by the bedside like the robot, watching "Xiao Meng" direct the rescue?

Donning a white coat and leaving his coat open, Chen Yan left the department and went to the intensive care unit again.

Luo Hao sat there just like a robot, and Chen Yan even suspected that Luo Hao's posture hadn't changed at all during the time he was away.

The medical staff in the intensive care unit simply greeted each other and went about their own business.

Chen Yan walked over to Luo Hao and pressed down on Luo Hao's shoulder with his hand, indicating that he didn't need to be polite.

"Xiao Luo, how is the patient?"

"I'll wake up tomorrow."

"!!!"

Chen Yan was stunned by Luo Hao's affirmative answer. That was the Triple Kill! The Triple Kill!!

The reason I didn't dare to have the surgery back then was because I knew there was a high probability of the "triple threat of death," so I asked Xiao Luo to come up and give me some advice.

The kind of surgical synergy or the kind of talk about drinking fine wine is just nonsense that can fool people, but it can't fool yourself.

"So fast?" Chen Yan asked.

“Director Chen, the patient is relatively young and doesn’t have any troublesome complications like diabetes, so it was a bit faster.” Luo Hao smiled and turned to look at Chen Yan. “Besides, the death triad is not uncommon. There are about 100,000 similar cases in the medical record database. My hospital already has guidelines for the best rescue approach.”

"..."

"We're proceeding step by step. I've been keeping a close eye on it because I'm worried about problems with the AI. So far, things are going quite well."

Chen Yan looked at "Xiao Meng," at the AI ​​robot that was still observing various data, and felt somewhat dazed, as if he hadn't woken up from that dream yet, and there was indeed a hint of dawn on the horizon.

"Director Chen, please have a seat."

"Mmm-hmm." Chen Yan sat down next to Luo Hao, staring blankly at "Little Meng." "Little Luo, this is too awesome."

"Awesome?" Luo Hao shook his head. "Not at all, not even close."

"???"

"If it were up to me, it would definitely be one machine, not so many robots. They look okay now, but their efficiency in work and rescue is much lower than that of a single machine."

Uh……

"But, if it's a machine with a robotic arm to perform the operation, it's too steampunk, and I'm afraid it will scare the patients. Our medical industry is indeed very troublesome, we also have to take care of the patients' emotions and so on."

Chen Yan remained silent.

"We can only try to improve efficiency by working on Xiao Meng."

"You...you're in the deserted hospital in Punk Manor..."

"Similar to this place, unmanned hospitals are responsible for things like physical examinations. Doing things too far ahead of their time is indeed not a good thing." Luo Hao smiled, somewhat regretfully.

Chen Yan had once heard Luo Hao talk about his views on robot dogs. Luo Hao looked down on four-legged ones, believing that the more legs a robot had, the more stable it would be.

"Xiao Luo, that's enough. If you go any faster, we old guys won't be able to catch up," Chen Yan said.

"Hey, you've already helped me get on the horse, so I'll just give it a little push. AI can iterate on its own, and actually, I can't keep up with it either," Luo Hao laughed. "There were still some flaws and problems in the previous demonstration, but Xiao Meng has already fixed them himself."

Chen Yan sat in front of the intensive care unit bed, his gaze passing through it, and the scene before him unfolded like a weary scroll.

In the distance, the entire intensive care unit resembled a giant white cabin, with nearly thirty beds neatly arranged. Next to each bed stood an IV stand, a monitor, a ventilator, and some highly technical instruments, with wires intertwined like vines.

The pale green curtains were half-drawn and half-open, barely separating small "single rooms," but they couldn't block out the constant alarms from the medical equipment, the groans of the patients, and the hurried footsteps of the medical staff.

The fluorescent lights on the ceiling were blindingly white, making people's faces turn pale. The old air conditioner in the corner emitted a dull hum, but it couldn't dispel the stuffy smell of disinfectant in the ward.

Closer still, the computer screens at the nurses' station were lit up, and the night shift nurses were recording data with their heads down, their faces full of fatigue.

Nurses pushing treatment carts moved between the beds, the sound of the wheels rolling over the floor mingling with the beeping of the monitors, like the ceaseless mechanical heartbeat.

Nearby are AI robots moving between hospital beds.

They are slender and move with fluidity, almost indistinguishable from humans. Only the dark sunglasses on their faces reveal their identity—the lenses occasionally flash a faint blue light, as if silently scanning something.

Whether blue light exists or not, Chen Yan couldn't say for sure; it all seemed like a dream.

He didn't even know if he was conscious or not.

AI robots move between hospital beds, adjusting infusion rates, checking ventilator parameters, and even leaning over to gently soothe restless patients with their gentle voices, showing no signs of fatigue.

Finally, Chen Yan's gaze fell on "Xiao Meng".

It stood before me, the monitor's waveform reflected in the sunglasses. With a few light taps on the ventilator panel, the parameters were immediately adjusted.

When "Xiao Meng" turned its head, Chen Yan felt that it "looked" at him, and the "gaze" behind the sunglasses seemed to pierce through the night and fall directly on him.

At that moment, Chen Yan had a vague feeling that in this weary, crowded, and perpetually lit intensive care unit, these AIs were the truly awake night watchmen.

"Professor Luo, could you lend me your home's turning robot for a bit?" a nurse said to Luo Hao as she approached him.

"Hehe, sorry about that." Luo Hao chuckled.

Chen Yan noticed that Luo Hao didn't interact with "Xiao Meng" at all, but an AI robot followed the nurse away.

The nurse and the "turning-over robot" arrived at a hospital bed one after the other. The robot looked like a young caregiver wearing sunglasses, dressed in the same light blue scrubs as other medical staff, with its name tag neatly pinned to its left chest.

The only thing that gives it away is its tireless gait—each step is precisely 62 centimeters, no more, no less.

Hey!
Chen Yan cursed inwardly.

This is a robot in the intensive care unit. Professor Luo sent it here half a year ago, but he had completely forgotten about it.

His attention and vision remained focused on "Xiao Meng" and the robot next to it, but he did not notice the existence of the flipping robot.

"Bed 3 needs to be turned over and have its sheets changed." The nurse had barely finished speaking when the robot was already at the bedside.

Sensors behind the sunglasses scan the patient's entire body, instantly creating a three-dimensional model.

"Pipeline safety confirmed." Its voice was gentle, almost human, with only a hint of mechanical precision at the end.

Its movements were fluid and graceful: one hand supported the back of the patient's neck, and the other hand held the hip, turning the patient to the side at a 45-degree angle as if handling a fragile item.

In the few seconds it took the nurse to remove the soiled sheet, its arm muscles bulged slightly, maintaining an absolutely stable supporting force, and even the waveform on the monitor did not fluctuate at all.

Chen Yan was dumbfounded.

With this posture, any nurse in the ICU who works in this position for six months—no, three months!—would develop a herniated disc.

But the robot handled it with ease, as if it didn't feel anything at all.

After changing the sheets, its technique suddenly became more agile.

The knuckles of the ten fingers make a slight "click" sound as they adjust to the optimal angle for tapping.

"Prepare to clear phlegm."

After it finished speaking, it arched its palm in a perfect tapping arc, creating a peculiar rhythm on the patient's back—first two eight-beat taps on the upper right lung lobe, then three eight-beat taps on the lower left lung lobe, the intensity automatically adjusting to the depth of the patient's breathing.

What Chen Yan found most difficult to understand was its timing in coughing up phlegm.

The moment the patient's throat begins to move, a tissue is already waiting at their mouth; the instant the phlegm is coughed up, the other hand simultaneously presses the suction device switch.

"The sputum viscosity in the lower lobe of the left lung is grade III," it reported, a stream of data seemingly flashing across its sunglasses. Chen Yan felt like he was dreaming. "It is recommended to extend the nebulizer inhalation time to 15 minutes."

Throughout the entire process, his clothes remained impeccably dressed, and his sideburns, concealed by a sterile cap, were perfectly neat.

As medical staff recorded its recommendations, it simply stood quietly at the foot of the bed, its sunglasses pointing towards the monitor, as if it could see through all the secrets behind those fluctuating numbers.

"Little Luo, can it even give advice?"

"The initial model didn't have a fully developed AI system, and we didn't have much data to process, so that's all we could do," Luo Hao said. "We haven't had time to upgrade the AI ​​robot for the ICU."

Luo Hao only said so much, but Chen Yan's mind was racing.

Was he too busy to upgrade? Definitely not. That bastard Luo Hao probably didn't want the AI ​​robot to steal the spotlight from the ICU medical staff.

Turning over, patting the back, coughing up phlegm—these are tasks that take away from the caregiver's job, and the rebound is relatively mild. As for diagnosis and treatment, those must be approached gradually, otherwise the fetus will surely die in the womb.

That bastard is really something...

He's cunning and calculating.

Chen Yan glanced at Luo Hao and saw that he was intently observing the "turnover robot's" every move. His eyes, which always seemed to hold calculations, were now shining with an astonishing light.

It's finally dawn.

Chen Yan looked at the window of the intensive care unit behind Luo Hao, gazing at the pale dawn breaking on the distant horizon.

The morning light, like diluted milk mixed with a hint of gray-blue, wearily smeared itself on the windowpane.

In this hazy halo, Luo Hao's profile was outlined with a sharp contour—his high, straight nose cast a light shadow, his jawline was taut as if carved by a knife, and his eyes were slightly narrowed, subtly turning with the robot's movements.

The morning light cast a faint golden hue on the collar of his clothes, which made his face appear somewhat pale.

Those wrinkles that were usually hidden deep were now clearly visible under the pale light of dawn, as if they had deepened overnight.

(End of this chapter)