A Tale of Two Cities Supporting Xinjiang

However, the first person the reporter contacted wasn't Zhou Yi, but rather Nurbahati, the director of cardiac surgery. After the call connected, the reporter excitedly said, "Director Nurbahati, we heard that your department recently performed its first surgery, successfully saving a critically ill patient. We'd like to report on it; would that be convenient for you?"

Upon hearing this, Nurbahati's tone immediately turned serious: "Report? I don't think that's a good idea."

The reporter was taken aback for a moment: "Director, isn't this a good thing? It can promote the hospital and let more people know about the benefits of new technologies."

"Benefits?" Nurbahati snorted. "You only know that the patient was discharged, but you don't know that serious complications arose after the surgery? The patient had a persistent high fever and a lung infection, and it's been going on for more than ten days. We still can't determine whether the surgery was successful or not. If it gets reported and people ask about the complications, how are we going to explain it? We don't want to end up ruining the hospital's reputation."

The reporter, after hearing this, also felt uneasy. Indeed, controversy is the worst thing in medical reporting. If, as the director said, the report were to be criticized, it would cause trouble. He quickly said, "Well... I'll think about it some more. Thank you for reminding me, Director."

After hanging up the phone, the reporter decisively abandoned the story. Zhou Yi was still waiting for an interview, hoping to take the opportunity to promote the right-side small incision surgery so that more patients could benefit, but after waiting for several days without any news, he later learned from a colleague that it was Director Nurbahati who had stopped the reporter.

What Zhou Yi didn't expect was that Nurbahati was spreading the word throughout the department: "Don't think this surgery was a success. It wasn't Zhou Yi's doing at all. If it weren't for Zhou Hongmei's traditional Chinese medicine, the patient might not have been able to be discharged."

He even said this to the hospital director: "Director Zhang, you see, the key to Amardan's recovery is the contribution of traditional Chinese medicine. Dr. Zhou Hongmei's herbal treatment played a crucial role; otherwise, relying solely on Zhou Yi's problematic surgery, the patient would have died long ago."

The rumor spread far and wide, and eventually, many people in the hospital believed that Amardan's survival was entirely due to Zhou Hongmei, and that Zhou Yi's surgery had actually been the prelude to a near-disaster.

Zhou Hongmei heard about this from Grandpa Rehemaiti. That day, when she went to give him acupuncture, he smiled and said, "Dr. Zhou, you're amazing! I heard you saved a heart surgery patient with traditional Chinese medicine; now the whole hospital is praising you!"

Zhou Hongmei was taken aback: "Grandpa, what are you saying? I only prescribed some traditional Chinese medicine as an adjunct treatment. The main thing is that Dr. Zhou Yi's surgery was done very well."

"That's not what they said!"

Grandpa Rehemaiti waved his hand, "I heard from the hospital caregivers that even Director Nurbahati said that a serious problem arose after the surgery, and it was you who saved the person with traditional Chinese medicine. You are the real hero!"

Zhou Hongmei was completely stunned. She never expected that simply prescribing a dose of traditional Chinese medicine would be hailed as a life-saving hero.

When she ran into Zhou Yi in the corridor, her face was full of disbelief, and her eyes were somewhat evasive.

Zhou Yi had just returned from his rounds when he saw Zhou Hongmei and greeted her with a smile, "Dr. Zhou, busy, huh?"

Zhou Hongmei pursed her lips, hesitated for a long time, and then whispered, "Dr. Zhou, have you heard... what's being said outside?"

"What did you say?" Zhou Yi was taken aback.

"So...so you're saying that Ameldan's recovery is all thanks to me."

Zhou Hongmei's voice was filled with helplessness, "I really didn't expect it to be spread like this. I was just assisting with the treatment. It was your surgery that solved the root cause of the problem first. The traditional Chinese medicine was just to help with the recovery."

Zhou Yi then understood why his colleagues had been looking at him strangely lately; it turned out that Nurbahati had been saying that behind his back.

He felt a little uneasy, but seeing Zhou Hongmei's innocent and embarrassed expression, he smiled and said, "It's alright, as long as I know what happened. The patient's recovery is the result of our combination of traditional Chinese and Western medicine; whose credit it is doesn't matter."

But Zhou Hongmei still felt bad: "How can this not be important? You were the one who took on so much pressure, performed the first surgery, and stayed up so many nights, but in the end, all the credit went to me. I feel so embarrassed."

She paused, then said, "And the way the director said it makes it sound like your surgery was unreliable, but I know that without your surgery, Amardan wouldn't have made it to the point where he needed to drink Chinese medicine."

Seeing her sincere expression, Zhou Yi's initial displeasure vanished instantly. "Don't overthink it. Our aid mission to Xinjiang isn't about gaining credit, it's about saving patients. As long as Aimerdan can be discharged healthy, that's more important than anything else."

Despite saying that, Zhou Yi knew in his heart that Nurbahat was doing this simply because he still resented him for not heeding advice and insisting on performing the new technique surgery. He just didn't expect the head surgeon to try to take credit for his work in this way, or even belittle his surgery.

However, Zhou Yi did not intend to take it to heart.

Looking at the banner in his hand, he recalled Amaldan's smile when he was discharged from the hospital, and only one thought crossed his mind: as long as the new technology can be left here and benefit more patients, this little grievance is nothing. As for who deserves the credit, time will tell.

Aygul has been in the hospital lately, and her ears are practically calloused from hearing the name Zhou Hongmei so much.

The nurses at the station were chatting amongst themselves, praising Zhou Hongmei's traditional Chinese medicine: "You wouldn't believe it, Aimerdan had a terrible fever after surgery, and Western medicine didn't work, but Dr. Zhou's traditional Chinese medicine saved him!"

The patient's family praised Zhou Hongmei to everyone they met, calling her a living Bodhisattva. Even the director of the Department of Cardiac Surgery, Nurbahati, publicly said at a department meeting: "If it weren't for Zhou Hongmei's traditional Chinese medicine as a backup, it's hard to say whether that first surgery would have been successful."

Aygul studied traditional Chinese medicine, but over the years, she has avoided Chinese medicine like the plague. The reason is simple: her mother died after drinking so-called Chinese medicine.

"Is it really that miraculous?"

Every time Ayiguli hears praise, a big question mark appears in her mind. In her eyes, traditional Chinese medicine is very mysterious; even a slight mistake in the combination or dosage can be fatal, and her mother's experience is a bloody lesson.

But seeing everyone speaking so confidently, and even the usually cautious and conservative Director Nurbahati praising Zhou Hongmei, she couldn't help but wonder: Could traditional Chinese medicine really play such a crucial role?