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

Chen Ping looked at him and gave a cold laugh.

He knew that Director Liu was stalling, trying to buy himself and the entire department some time.

Admitting to a misdiagnosis is tantamount to admitting that the treatment direction for two years was wrong, which would put the entire department and even the entire hospital in the spotlight.

Chen Ping nodded. "Okay, but I'll only give you fifteen minutes. If there's no result in fifteen minutes, I'll report this matter."

Director Liu frowned, said nothing, and turned to leave the ward.

Chen Ping put the needle case back in his pocket and then sat down next to Old Song.

"They are unlikely to admit to a misdiagnosis so easily..." Old Song seemed to have seen through it all and said calmly.

"Well, let's wait and see what the dean's attitude is."

Chen Ping said.

Less than fifteen minutes later, a series of hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor, sounding like a large number of people in a hurry.

The ward door was pushed open, and a middle-aged man in his fifties walked in, wearing a dark suit, his hair neatly combed, and his expression tense.

Director Liu followed behind him, and after entering the room, he stood by the door without moving forward. Several other people followed behind him, all standing a step behind the man.

The middle-aged man glanced around the ward, his gaze sweeping over Chen Ping's face before looking at Old Song, then his brows furrowed slightly.

"I am the director here, my surname is Li."

The middle-aged man spoke, his voice tinged with displeasure, "Director Liu reported the situation to me just now. You are a doctor at Siping Township Health Center, not one of our hospital's staff."

"You gave the patient injections without authorization. Who will be responsible if something goes wrong? The patient is an inpatient at our hospital, and the treatment plan is formulated by our doctors. You have no right to interfere."

Chen Ping looked at him and said, "Dean Li, the patient has been misdiagnosed for two years. My acupuncture just now has proven that the nerve function has not been completely necrotic."

"If we don't correct the course and continue with the original treatment plan, the patient's condition will only get worse."

Dean Li's expression darkened, and he took a step forward, his voice laced with threat: "I'm not going to discuss the accuracy of your diagnosis with you right now."

"As an outsider, you have violated hospital regulations by performing medical procedures on inpatients without the hospital's consent."

"I won't pursue what happened today, but you must leave immediately and you are not allowed to reveal anything about what happened at the hospital today."

"Are you trying to get rid of us?" Old Song stood up from his chair, his eyes filled with disbelief.

"That's right..." Dean Li didn't recognize Old Song, so his voice was firm.

Old Song was taken aback. In all his years in the provincial capital, no one had ever dared to speak in such a tone.

"What if we don't leave?" Old Song said, getting angry.

Dean Li glanced at Old Song, said nothing, and turned to call out into the corridor, "Security!"

Two security guards strode in from the corridor and stood at the door of the ward.

It was obvious that the two security guards had been arranged in advance; it seemed that Dean Li had made plans as soon as he arrived.

Dean Li looked at Chen Ping and Old Song, his chin slightly raised: "Please leave now and do not enter the hospital grounds again."

Old Song glared angrily at Dean Li, "I've been Old Zhao's comrade-in-arms for decades, and I brought Dr. Chen here today."

"To protect the hospital's reputation, you're even disregarding the patient's life? He's been lying there for two years, and you've been treating him for two years without success. Now that someone else can cure him, you're turning us away?"

Dean Li looked at Old Song with a hint of impatience on his face. "Sir, this is hospital policy, not targeting you personally. Please cooperate with our work."

Before Old Song could say anything more, Dean Li waved to the security guard.

The two security guards walked up to Old Song and Chen Ping. The taller one gestured for them to enter, his tone polite but his attitude firm: "Please, gentlemen."

Chen Ping picked up the needle case from the bedside table and put it back in his pocket. He glanced at Old Zhao on the bed. Old Zhao's eyes were still open, and the finger that had just moved curled up slightly again, as if trying to grasp something.

Chen Ping withdrew his gaze, turned around, and walked out of the ward.

Old Song followed behind him, paused at the door, turned around and glanced at Dean Li, "I hope you won't regret the decision you made today."

Without waiting for Dean Li's reply, Old Song turned and left.

Two security guards followed behind them, escorting them all the way to the entrance of the inpatient building. They watched them walk out of the hospital gate before turning back.

Outside the hospital gate, the sunlight shone brightly on the asphalt road.

Chen Ping stood by the roadside and glanced back at the gray-white hospital building.

Old Song stood beside him, looking in the same direction, his expression tense, his lips pressed down, and the vertical line between his eyebrows several times deeper than usual.

He remained silent for a long time before speaking, "They were afraid of the reputation of misdiagnosis spreading, afraid of losing their jobs, so they used an old man's life as a substitute. It's simply shameful."

"Old Song, we can't let them drag this out. The old commander's nerves have been under pressure for two years; every day it drags on, there will be more damage," Chen Ping said.

"I see!"

Old Song nodded, took out his phone from his pocket, dialed a number, and after two rings, answered, "Old Zhou, are you home? I need to talk to you."

"What's the rush at home?" Old Zhou sensed Old Song's anxiety.

"Let's talk about it when we meet!"

After hanging up the phone, Old Song said to the driver in front, "Go back to the retirement home."

It was almost noon when we arrived at the retirement home, and Old Zhou was standing at his door waiting for us.

Seeing Mr. Song and Chen Ping get out of the car, I went up to them and asked what was wrong.

Old Song didn't say much in the yard. After the three of them went inside and closed the door, Old Song recounted everything that had happened at the hospital.

"What? Old Zhao was misdiagnosed for two years? Then Old Zhao suffered for nothing for those two years?"

After hearing this, Lao Zhou's face turned very ugly.

After all, Lao Zhao was his comrade-in-arms, and they had been friends for many years. How could he not be angry now that this had happened?

"Old Zhou, give your son-in-law a call. Only he can handle this. After all, we old men have retired, so it's not appropriate for us to get involved directly."

Old Song followed up with Old Zhou.

"Okay, I'll have him come over right away..." Old Zhou said, and then made a phone call to his son-in-law.

"Jianye, come to my house right now..."

"Yes, now! I don't care what you're doing, get over here right now!"

Old Zhou's tone was harsh, commanding, and he hung up the phone after speaking.

"Old Zhou, is your son-in-law coming over?" Old Song asked.

"He dares not come; he doesn't even think about who got him this job."

Old Zhou's attitude was firm, then he glanced at Chen Ping and asked, "Dr. Chen, how confident are you about Old Zhao's misdiagnosis?"

"Old Chief, I'm 100% confident!" Chen Ping said with great confidence.

Normally, Lao Zhou might not trust Chen Ping, but now that Chen Ping has already demonstrated his medical skills to him, Lao Zhou has no doubt about Chen Ping.