Don’t Go Home with Dr. Zhong After Work 11

Chapter 11: Understanding

Shi An sat in the passenger seat, the seatbelt strapped across his chest, his mind racing the entire way.

How could he politely decline his boss’s offer without making him feel awkward or resentful?

He came up with all sorts of scenarios, but when he saw the apartment, Shi An could only grit his teeth, “Dr. Zhong, are you short on money lately?”

A large, single-story apartment, Shi An conservatively estimated it to be around 300 square meters. He didn’t understand interior design, but with this level of refinement, it definitely wasn’t cheap.

He remembered what Chen Xiaoman said, this was the landlord’s wedding apartment. What kind of celestial being was he marrying? So extravagant!

Zhong Yan didn’t bother responding to his nonsense and got straight to the point, “Are you renting or not?”

It was a good apartment, but one had to have principles. A worker couldn’t be a beast of burden day and night.

Shi An coughed tactically, “Dr. Zhong, this apartment is great in every way, but I think…”

“The rent is 1000 yuan, utilities and broadband are all free. There are large supermarkets and restaurants nearby, and plenty of entertainment options.” Zhong Yan continued, “Of course, the rent includes housekeeping fees. If you can keep the place clean, I’ll deduct another 200 yuan each month.”

Zhong Yan took out his phone and scrolled through a long list of missed calls, “Rent it if you want, if not, I’ll contact…”

“Slap!”

A thick stack of cash landed on the table, wrapped in a plastic bag with the Provincial Hospital’s logo.

“I’ll clean the apartment myself, no need for housekeeping. One month’s deposit, six months’ rent, here’s 5600 yuan, I’ll rent until February next year.” Shi An smiled and extended his hand, “Landlord-laoshi, happy cooperation.”

With such a good apartment, who needed principles?

A worker could be a beast of burden day and night.

It would be a fool not to live in a mansion!

Zhong Yan took the money and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards, “I’ll show you around.”

When an apartment was large enough, it could really fit anything.

A game room, a home theater, a gym, everything was available.

Zhong Yan led him to the study, “You can use all the rooms mentioned above, but keep them tidy. If you make a mess, not only will I not deduct the housekeeping fee, but I’ll also charge an extra 200 yuan.”

Shi An nodded happily, “Don’t worry, I’m very clean, I definitely won’t make a mess.”

Zhong Yan’s gaze moved from his soap-scented white T-shirt back to the living room. He pointed to the carpet by the coffee table, “This is top-quality wool, very expensive.”

Shi An nodded like a bobblehead, “Okay, okay, I won’t eat anything while sitting on it.”

Zhong Yan: “…”

As if he hadn’t done that before.

“It’s not that you can’t eat on it, but be careful.”

Shi An obediently agreed, looking around the living room, “Dr. Zhong, where do I sleep?”

Zhong Yan emphasized, “You can only sleep in the second bedroom.”

“Oh, okay.”

Seeing him spend so much time introducing the living room, Shi An thought he would have to sleep on the sofa.

Zhong Yan specifically stressed, “Don’t knock on my door in the middle of the night unless it’s an emergency. Don’t force your way into my room and block the door with your back.”

“…” Shi An forced a smile, “Don’t worry, I definitely won’t.”

Knocking on his boss’s door in the middle of the night was like asking for trouble, unless he was crazy.

“That’s good.” Zhong Yan handed him the access card, “I’ll record your fingerprint later.”

“Okay!”

The luggage he had moved to Uncle Niu’s was quickly transferred to Zhong Yan’s place. Compared to the ten-square-meter basement, this place was like a five-star hotel.

Shi An’s room was next to Zhong Yan’s. The second bedroom also faced the sun and had a private bathroom. Closing the door meant entering his own world.

There were two sets of pajamas in the wardrobe, probably Zhong Yan’s. Shi An didn’t move them, just hung his few clothes on the other side of the wardrobe.

The sheets and duvet cover were newly changed. According to Zhong Yan, he didn’t bother putting his own bedding in the wardrobe.

Zhong Yan left after signing the contract and didn’t come back or contact him all day.

Shi An finished tidying up his room, washed an apple, and leaned back on the sofa, humming happily.

After dinner, Zhong Yan still hadn’t returned.

Shi An explored all the rooms except Zhong Yan’s bedroom, finally stopping in the study.

There were a large number of medical books here, covering a wide range of topics, many of which were out of print. Besides clinical medicine, there were also many books related to Traditional Chinese Medicine.

Shi An recalled the time he had enteritis, Zhong Yan had used acupressure to relieve his pain, and he had the most comfortable sleep since he started working. This skill wasn’t just a trivial matter.

Shi An casually picked up “Clinical Analysis of Critical and Difficult Cases in the Emergency Department” from the desk. When his fingers touched the pages, he shuddered slightly.

Due to frequent flipping, the pages were wrinkled and soft. The inside pages were covered with sticky notes, making the book several times thicker. There were underlines and annotations layer upon layer. Shi An recognized them, they were all in Zhong Yan’s handwriting.

These sticky notes contained interpretations of the cases in the book, as well as revised treatment plans. Some were relatively common, but most of them, Shi An had never heard of.

From the handwriting and the varying shades of the sticky notes, it was clear that the book had been read repeatedly, and the treatment plans were constantly being improved.

Chen Xiaoman always said that Zhong Yan was a genius, a well-rounded individual with no weaknesses, effortlessly reaching heights that ordinary people couldn’t even dream of. Every time she said this, she would add, “Just like you, so infuriating.”

He didn’t know if Zhong Yan was a genius, but Shi An knew he wasn’t. He had put in effort, he had worked hard.

Zhong Yan gave off a different impression from traditional doctors. He wasn’t disheveled from overwork. Whether after work or before work, he was always sharp and spirited, with a unique coolness.

Especially when he was driving his sports car with sunglasses on, no one would guess that he was the director of the emergency department of a top-tier hospital.

Shi An put down the book and picked up a few others. Without exception, every book was worn soft, filled with layers of annotations.

What’s scary wasn’t genius, but a genius who works harder than you.

When Zhong Yan returned, there were subtle changes in the apartment.

The trash can was empty, the clutter was neatly arranged, and the floor and windowsills showed signs of being wiped.

Zhong Yan ran his hand over the spotless table, “You cleaned?”

“Yeah.” Shi An was sitting on the carpet with his back to him.

This scene gave Zhong Yan a flashback. The little blondie from back then had also curled up on the carpet like this, wearing white socks, revealing a bit of his ankles.

Over the past seven years, Zhong Yan had renovated the apartment, replacing all the furniture and decorations. Only this carpet remained, regularly professionally cleaned.

Zhong Yan opened a bottle of water, “You’re quite diligent.”

“No one would pass up 200 yuan.”

Zhong Yan turned to the side and saw Shi An reading.

Head down, very studious.

“Just moved in today, and you’re already putting on a good show.”

“I’m not,” Shi An continued writing, “I have to prepare in advance for my doctoral application.”

This was the norm for medical students. To enter a municipal-level or higher hospital, a doctorate was a stepping stone.

Zhong Yan changed his shoes and went to wash his hands, “Where do you want to get your doctorate?”

“Probably here.” Shi An knew that Zhong Yan also graduated from this medical school, “Do you think I should follow Professor Hou or Professor Men… Forget it, you’ll definitely recommend Professor Men.”

Zhong Yan dried his hands and opened the refrigerator, “Why are you so sure?”

“Professor Hou focuses on practice, Professor Men emphasizes theory. Professor Men’s students have particularly outstanding SCI publication numbers and impact factors.”

Similar to a certain someone who forced people to copy books, memorize surgical techniques, and recite medical orders. Shi An had looked it up, Zhong Yan’s publication record was unbelievably high, beyond the reach of ordinary people.

Zhong Yan opened the microwave and put a bowl inside, “What do you think?”

“I prefer Professor Hou.”

“You hate writing papers?”

“It’s not that I hate it, I just feel it’s useless. I want to be a doctor, not a lecturer. No matter how fancy the theory is, it’s not as effective as a surgery.”

Zhong Yan laughed, his voice coming from the kitchen, “You think the same way I did before.”

“Before?” Shi An was curious and turned to look at him.

“When I was studying, I hated writing papers the most, even more than you.”

For the first time, Shi An felt like he was on the same wavelength as Zhong Yan. He was even more curious, “And now?”

Zhong Yan didn’t answer directly, first asking him, “Everyone knows clinical experience is important, so why do we study so many years of dry theory before practicing?”

“We have to master the basics, otherwise how can we practice?”

Zhong Yan: “Do you know what practice means?”

Shi An waited for him to continue.

“It means a living person, paying out of their own pocket, voluntarily becomes a stepping stone on your medical journey.”

“That’s an exaggeration.” Shi An didn’t like that idea either.

But patients did spend money and inadvertently helped them gain experience.

Shi An argued, “I’ve never thought of patients as stepping stones.”

Treating patients and accumulating experience went hand in hand, it was a mutually beneficial situation.

“No doctor wants to think of patients as stepping stones,” Zhong Yan said, “But when you have no clinical experience, what gives you the confidence, what skills do you have to make promises to patients and their families?”

Shi An held his pen, looking at the textbooks, professional literature, and endless exercises in front of him.

It was mastering a vast amount of professional knowledge and practicing countless times in theory that gave one the confidence in clinical practice.

Ingraining the theory in one’s mind, turning it into a reflex, practicing day after day, even if it meant taking detours or seemed pointless, was better than using a patient’s life as a practice question.

Shi An looked at his sparsely annotated books and suddenly felt ashamed.

Zhong Yan pushed the warmed milk towards him, “You have the morning shift tomorrow, don’t stay up late.”

Shi An smelled the warm chocolate milk, his eyelids becoming moist, “You like this too?”

Zhong Yan stood on the other side of the coffee table, leaning slightly closer, supporting himself with one hand, and looked down at his eyes.

“With a brain like yours, how did you get into medical school?”