Chapter 9: Pressure
Zhong Yan almost choked. He rubbed his throat, “Did you remember something?”
“Yeah!” Shi An stopped eating his lobster, “The more I think about it, the more something feels off.”
“What’s off?”
“I made such a big mistake, and you only scolded me a few words, is that reasonable?”
Previously, even minor mistakes with medical orders resulted in having to copy the entire “Clinical Order Quick Reference Manual.”
Zhong Yan: “…”
“You even personally drove me to such an expensive restaurant.” Shi An remembered something else, “You deliberately brought up driving midway, you were testing to see if I could drive, right?”
Zhong Yan was confused, “Why would I test you on that?”
“I can’t drive, so I wouldn’t be able to run away easily.”
“Run away from what?”
“You’re the one who said ‘ten years minimum, no upper limit.’ On the way here, you asked me to join you, and I didn’t agree, so now you want to silence me.”
“If I’m not mistaken, you probably drugged the lobster. When I’m unconscious, you’ll take me to an underground clinic, harvest my heart, lungs, and kidneys, and then use my corneas to give someone else the gift of sight.”
The person across from him rattled on and on. Zhong Yan almost snapped his chopsticks, “Say another word, and I’ll throw you and the lobster into the sea to feed the fish!”
“…”
Shi An buried his head in his food, not daring to make a sound.
Why so angry? It was just a joke.
You were the one who started it with the “ten years minimum” thing.
After eating their fill, Shi An followed behind, clutching his stomach.
He checked the time, he could just catch the last bus, “Dr. Zhong, I’ll go catch the bus across the street, bye.”
“Bye what bye.” Zhong Yan grabbed him back, “Get in the car.”
“I can take the bus, route 314 goes directly there.”
Taking the bus from here was even more convenient than from the hospital.
“Don’t argue,” Zhong Yan didn’t give him a chance.
Shi An obediently sat back in the passenger seat and gave his address.
Zhong Yan started the car, “You live this far?”
Thinking back on his initial living arrangements, Shi An thought he was stupid. With this distance, plus the intensity of the emergency department work, even an iron man couldn’t handle it.
His grandmother’s back was almost fully recovered, and she and his mother kept urging him to find an apartment. Plus, he had to be on call at the emergency department at all times, so living too far away wasn’t convenient.
Shi An didn’t have any requirements for accommodation, as long as the price was reasonable and there was a bed.
“I’ll find an apartment as soon as possible, I promise it won’t affect my work.”
The car stopped in front of Shi An’s house, and he opened the door to say goodbye.
“Wait a minute.” Zhong Yan handed him the takeaway lobster, “Take this home.”
“Eat more?” Shi An had already eaten six.
“Tired of it?”
“Of course not.” Shi An took the bag, “Thank you, Dr. Zhong. I’m leaving.”
Zhong Yan rolled down the window, “There’s a doctor’s meeting tomorrow morning, don’t be late.”
“Got it.” Shi An waved, “Good night, Dr. Zhong.”
Seafood was good, but after not having breakfast or lunch, and then eating two little snowman popsicles, followed by a seafood feast including six lobsters within 24 hours, he really couldn’t handle it. He was so full that he ate half a box of hawthorn pills before bed.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t over. The next morning, the consequences of his gluttony came.
After the meeting, Zhong Yan stopped him, “What’s wrong with you?”
Zhong Yan was giving a summary report on stage and saw the blond head in the back row swaying from side to side from afar, as if afraid that others wouldn’t notice him.
“Nothing,” Shi An said, sweating profusely, pressing his stomach.
Zhong Yan could see that something was wrong, “Did you eat something bad?”
Shi An didn’t want to admit it, “It’s probably indigestion. I’ll get some digestive pills later.”
Zhong Yan didn’t listen to his explanation. He led him to the resuscitation room, had him lie down, and pressed on his abdomen for a routine examination.
The person being examined couldn’t lie still, wriggling like a caterpillar, almost twisting the sterile sheet off the bed.
Zhong Yan was getting angry, “Are you a child?”
“No,” Shi An said, sweating, “Dr. Zhong, it tickles.”
“Bear with it.”
He had touched every part of his body before, he didn’t remember him being ticklish then.
“Maybe you should press harder?” Shi An suppressed a laugh, trying to stay flat, “The way you’re touching me, it’s like you’re harassing me.”
“Stop talking nonsense.” Zhong Yan was so angry he was fuming. He pressed down on his lower right abdomen, “Nod if it hurts, close your eyes if it doesn’t.”
Shi An squeezed his eyes shut, not daring to breathe.
Seven years later, Shi An’s abdomen was even firmer than before, he could feel a layer of abdominal muscles even through his clothes. He wondered if the texture of his skin had changed.
After pressing on all the areas, Zhong Yan withdrew his hand and diagnosed acute enteritis.
He’d have to control his food intake in the future, no more than six lobsters at a time.
Zhong Yan wrote a prescription and personally went to get the medicine.
A few minutes later, Zhong Yan handed him the pills, along with a cup of warm water.
After taking the medicine, Shi An leaned against the bed and rubbed his eyes.
Zhong Yan took the empty cup, “I’ll take you home.”
Shi An pressed his stomach, “I still have work.”
He remembered the Big Devil’s ominous words, no leave except for weddings, funerals, marriages, and births.
“How can you work in this condition? Come back when you’re better.”
Shi An: “…?”
Did he enjoy contradicting himself so much?
Unfortunately, Shi An couldn’t go home, “No need, I’ll be fine soon.”
In reality, Shi An’s stomach pain was worse than he expected, and it wouldn’t subside so quickly.
“Less nonsense,” Zhong Yan looked at his watch, “Don’t waste time.”
“Dr. Zhong, can I not go home?” Shi An pressed his still-aching stomach, “I don’t want my mom and grandma to worry.”
If he went home now, they would definitely be anxious.
Shi An confessed, “I’m really feeling unwell, can I lie down here for a while? Just half an hour.”
Zhong Yan: “This is the resuscitation room.”
True, Shi An propped himself up.
The hospital provided a common rest area for each department. But the emergency department was the most lacking, filled with colleagues taking short breaks after long shifts.
As a resident who had only been there for three days, Shi An couldn’t bring himself to compete for a bed with the truly exhausted doctors.
Zhong Yan stopped him, “Where are you going?”
Shi An felt dizzy and his legs were unsteady, “I’ll… go to Uncle Niu’s for a bit.”
It took Zhong Yan a couple of seconds to realize where he was referring to.
Without hesitation, Zhong Yan supported him, “Come with me.”
“Where to?”
Zhong Yan didn’t answer directly, “Uncle Niu’s place is too yin, it will worsen your condition.”
Zhong Yan’s grip on his arm tightened, and he led him to a room on the third floor.
Shi An had heard about it in the residency chat group, chief physicians had private rest rooms.
The room was similar in size to an examination room, with a bed, desk, wardrobe, and even a private bathroom.
Shi An had only one thought: being a chief physician was awesome, he didn’t even need to rent an apartment.
He was instructed to lie down on the bed. The sheets and duvet cover were not the standard hospital issue, and the pillow had the scent of shampoo, a familiar smell, but Shi An couldn’t place it.
Zhong Yan sat by the bed, taking his hand and pressing his fingers against his wrist.
Shi An’s stomach was killing him, his eyes wide open.
Was he… taking his pulse?
He was a clinical doctor, and he was taking his pulse?
Not only was his pulse taken, but Shi An also had acupressure points pressed.
He didn’t understand Traditional Chinese Medicine, he hadn’t studied it in university, and he had no idea what Zhong Yan was doing.
But he looked very professional, pressing various points on his wrist and inner forearm.
Gradually, Shi An felt the pain lessen, subside, and disappear, until he felt sleepy.
Seeing that Shi An’s breathing had become even, Zhong Yan let go of his hand. He covered him with a blanket, adjusted the air conditioner to a comfortable temperature, and left the rest room.
When Zhong Yan got off work, Shi An was still asleep.
He went to the balcony to make a phone call, “Lao Xu, if you press the Shenmen and Neiguan acupoints during the day, how long can someone sleep for?”
“Two to three hours.”
“If they sleep for seven or eight hours, should I wake them up?”
“If their pulse is normal, there shouldn’t be a problem. Maybe their body is exhausted, or they’re naturally a heavy sleeper,” Xu Baizhang said.
“Okay, let him sleep a little longer.”
“Who?”
“A new resident, ate too much and got enteritis, making a fuss, so I put him to sleep because he was annoying me.”
Xu Baizhang: “The one with yellow hair?”
Zhong Yan: “Yeah.”
“Didn’t have time to ask, why did you suddenly take a student?”
“Can we not gossip?”
Xu Baizhang’s low chuckle came from the phone, “Are you feeling guilty?”
“Guilty about what?” Not giving him a chance to speak, Zhong Yan continued, “I’m going to check on the little idiot, gotta go.”
The little idiot in the room was already awake, rubbing his eyes, yawning and sending a message.
“Mom, working overtime at the department today, I won’t be home for dinner.”
Zhong Yan put his phone in his pocket and walked in, “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine now, thank you, Dr. Zhong.”
After a good sleep, Shi An looked much better.
Shi An got out of bed, folded the blanket, and put the bed back to how it was before he slept.
“Just in time for me to get off work,” Zhong Yan took off his white coat, “I’ll give you a ride home.”
Shi An: “…”
Did he have some kind of compulsion to drive people home?
There was no such thing as a free lunch. If this continued, Shi An really suspected he would have his organs harvested.
“Thank you, Dr. Zhong, but you go ahead, I want to eat in the cafeteria before leaving.”
Considering Shi An’s condition, he needed a bland diet. But he had been working hard lately, and his mother and grandmother kept making him rich meals, and he didn’t want to tell them about his illness.
Zhong Yan put his hands in his pockets, “Just so happens I want to eat in the cafeteria too, let’s go.”
Shi An: “…”
Who would want to eat with their boss?
Seeing that he wasn’t moving, Zhong Yan turned around, “What are you standing there for?”
Shi An listlessly followed.
Zhong Yan added, “I don’t have a meal card, you’re paying.”
