Sent to the countryside, I turned the health center into a top-tier hospital.

Chen Ping, the purchasing director of the municipal hospital, offended the hospital director's father-in-law by refusing to approve problematic medical devices.
Overnight, with all the evidence gathered, he was forced to leave his home penniless and relegated to the desolate Siping Township Health Center.
On the day of the divorce, his ex-wife sent him a text message: "There's nothing wrong with that batch of equipment. You misunderstood my dad."
Chen Ping smiled.
The next day, local thugs blocked the door with their men, but he single-handedly took down five of them.
The deputy secretary of the township party committee personally visited to express his gratitude.
Even more strangely, the wooden box left by his parents had not been opened for more than 20 years.
That night, he had a dream.
After waking up, his hands can "see" the lesions in the patient's body.
From that day on, the line at Siping Township Health Center stretched from one end of the village to the other.
Patients who had been given a death sentence at a major hospital were crying and begging to be admitted.
My ex-father-in-law called: "Chen Ping, come back."
His ex-wife also came, bringing the qualified test report.
Chen Ping looked down at his hands, then at the still-locked wooden box on the table.
He didn't know what was inside.
But he knew.
Some people don't want him to come back.
Some truths are bigger than he imagined.