When the Doctor Uses A Hack

Zhou Hongguang sat in the car.

He was a little absent-minded the entire time.

In China, the title "Academician" represents lifelong academic achievement and is the highest level of academic recognition!

When a doctor reaches their fifties or beyond, their dream often shifts away from earning big money or making a huge career to hoping to leave their name in history—to enter the academic sanctuary: Academician!

To most academic workers, "Academician" means the legendary "Hall of Fame."

It seems to become the ultimate goal for academic workers in their lifetime.

Joining means gaining recognition.

This perfectly aligns with humanity's higher-level needs.

However, Zhou Hongguang's path to becoming an Academician has now encountered a serious problem.

On paper, the selection of Academicians is not supposed to be limited by any quotas; as long as you meet the criteria, accomplish major projects, and win significant awards… you can essentially secure the position of Academician.

But...

The key lies beneath the surface rules—in the unspoken "hidden rules!"

Although there's no explicit regulation, everyone quietly abides by this rule: each subfield within the medical discipline can only have one Academician in the Academy of Engineering.

This hidden rule has only emerged in earnest in recent years.

Why? Because Academicians can now retire!

That's right!

The retirement system for Academicians was proposed only recently and is being gradually implemented.

In fact, 15 years ago, the average age of newly selected Academicians was around 63. By 2017, this had dropped to an average age of 54.

It can be said that an energetic, fiercely capable team of Academicians is taking shape.

By 2018, it was explicitly suggested to steadily and orderly advance the retirement system for Academicians.

The aim is to fundamentally address the aging issue among Academicians—bringing in more outstanding young talents to keep the nation's research endeavors vibrant and dynamic.

Institutional reform requires courage and conviction—a break from tradition, showcasing the Party and government's bravery in fostering innovation.

It's a positive change!

But now, it has created a situation where old Academicians refuse to step down, and new Academicians struggle to step up!

They say the retirement age is 70, but there are plenty of Academicians still holding on in their eighties.

Most crucially, within the same subfield, incumbent Academicians have the power of veto when evaluating new Academician candidates!

And conversely, when new Academicians step in, the old ones essentially have to start gradually retreating to the second line.

It's a complex mechanism.

On the surface it seems absurd, but it truly, practically exists.

Yet it has undeniably contributed to the younger, more creative momentum among Academicians today.

Zhou Hongguang is now 55 years old.

No longer young!

In every industry, the rise of the new generation always requires the senior generation to step aside.

As the red light turned green, Zhou Hongguang released the brake and accelerated forward!

Chen Cang's earlier case description flashed in his mind.

To be a successful surgeon...

During moments requiring urgent action, you need to have a rapid "reading" ability for cases.

Meanwhile, back in the general surgery office, He Zhiqian's phone rang.

"Director He, the liver source will arrive in 10 minutes!"

Not long after, a WeChat message popped up on Chen Cang's phone.

It was from Zhou Hongguang.

"Little Chen, I'll be there in 10 minutes!"

Upon receiving the message, Chen Cang instantly felt delighted!

"Prepare for surgery!"

He Zhiqian's mood also brightened. He had heard of the renowned Zhou Hongguang, the 55-year-old soon-to-be Academician and director of 301 Hospital's Hepatobiliary Surgery Department.

In other professions, the youngest Academicians could be in their thirties!

But in medicine, it's impossible!

Why? Because at thirty-something, you simply can't produce meaningful results. At this stage, you're still a novice in the field, testing the waters; even by forty, you're still considered a senior doctor only just capable of independent thought!

You need ten years of time to hone and accomplish yourself!

By fifty, a doctor enters the pinnacle decade in their academic achievement and influence.

He Zhiqian quickly dialed the operating room: "Prepare for surgery!"

Here, Wang Dong took one last glance at his wife before leaving, but she didn't look back. As he changed into surgical attire, his wife carefully fastened them for him—it felt almost ceremonial!

The operating table isn't an execution platform.

But it's still an arena of bittersweet separations and critical stakes.

Wang Dong said, "No need to be so proper! You're being so meticulous, but the other doctors will just have to remove it anyway."

His wife smiled but said nothing.

...

Inside the operating room.

Everyone took the upcoming surgery very seriously!

Parking at the hospital is tricky—so after Zhou Hongguang arrived, He Zhiqian had already arranged for someone to take care of his parking, allowing Zhou Hongguang to head straight to the operating room.

At the same time, Xiehe's Hepatobiliary Surgery Department sent a young attending physician to deliver the liver source.

Liao Jia, as a Xiehe physician, came in with strong confidence.

Part of that confidence came from Xiehe's century-old prestige, and part from her mentor Mo Li.

But Liao Jia couldn't understand—why would the emergency center want this liver?

15 hours...

No, it's probably 16 hours now.

What is the point of a liver like this?

A successful surgery?

She hadn't even considered it.

As someone who had participated in several liver transplant surgeries in her thirties, Liao Jia knew exactly what a 16-hour cold ischemia time for a liver source meant!

She didn't believe Director He Zhiqian could outperform her mentor, Director Mo, from Xiehe's Hepatobiliary Surgery Department!

Liver transplantation involves too many critical techniques—especially liver repair, perfusion procedures, and the ability to assess and judge liver recovery...

And more!

If even her mentor couldn't manage it, there's no way a second-rate director like He Zhiqian could.

That's right.

Although Liao Jia wasn't a top-tier doctor herself, this didn't stop her from underestimating He Zhiqian.

In her eyes, only a handful of first-rate hepatobiliary surgery directors exist. There's no question about the powerhouses of Eastern Hepatobiliary Surgery—Wu, the venerable legend, owns that territory. Within the capital, only Xiehe and 301 measure up. If you talk specifically about director capabilities, you could include Peking University People's Hospital and Beijing Chaoyang Hospital.

But there's no way He Zhiqian belongs in that group.

Liao Jia didn't understand one crucial detail: it wasn't that He Zhiqian wasn't competent—it's that he had spent over a decade at the emergency center. In this place, there were critical cases every day, and his job wasn't about tackling high-difficulty surgeries or solving national medical challenges. His mission was to save lives!

How many lives had He Zhiqian saved in his ten years here?

Even he didn't know.

Truthfully, people like him inherently understood: working in emergency care led nowhere—becoming an Academician? Forget it.

But someone had to do it.

In fact, the pride of someone like He Zhiqian lay in knowing that if an emergency surgery came through—whether in general surgery or hepatobiliary surgery—he could guarantee the patient wouldn't die within a certain timeframe.

While he may not cure the illness, he could save the life.

Someone once compared this to making movies.

He Zhiqian said, "I just want to be the best supporting actor."

But after Chen Cang appeared, He Zhiqian realized... perhaps... maybe... he could even play the lead role!