Chapter 295 Someone Stubbornly Claims My Skills Are Poor

In mid-August, the city of A entered the hottest period of the year.

Outside, heat waves rolled relentlessly; cicadas screamed themselves hoarse from morning till night. The asphalt softened under the scorching sun.

Inside the operating room, the temperature remained constant at twenty-one degrees Celsius.

Song Jingmo stood in the lead surgeon’s position. His surgical cap and mask covered most of his face, leaving only a pair of eyes as calm and deep as a still pool.

The patient was a man in his early thirties. That morning, he had been driving a borrowed Mercedes, excited to pick up his bride.

But on the highway, he had been tailgating, got caught between two heavy trucks, and the car was crushed like a soda can. Rescuers had spent forty minutes prying him out of the cabin.

Both legs were shattered with complete vascular and nerve rupture, and the tissue damage was so severe there was no chance of repair.

The only option was a high-level thigh amputation.

The surgery had been going for over four hours, yet the patient’s vital signs remained unstable.

The crush injury had caused acute kidney damage, and coagulation function was compromised.

The numbers on the monitor fluctuated unpredictably, leaving everyone present holding their breath.

The circulating nurse sighed, “I wonder… what about the bride?”

Nurse Xiao Lin, who had just returned after getting the family to sign the consent forms, replied, “There’s no sign of her. The phone went through. She said save him first; everything else can wait.”

Yin Siyao, the first assistant, helped manage the wound and muttered, “That’s just how society is now. Love is so fragile in the face of reality.”

A female nurse added, “She’s a young woman in her prime. If she marries in and has to care for a husband who can’t take care of himself, anyone would hesitate.”

The circulating nurse whispered, “A high-level amputation… he’ll need help with everything—eating, drinking, bathroom… that’s a huge burden…”

“Exactly.”

The anesthesiologist peeked from behind the monitor. “If I were her parents, I wouldn’t let my daughter jump into that fire either.”

A brief silence fell over the operating table.

Doctors see life and death every day, as well as the fickleness of human nature. Sometimes, love just cannot withstand a sudden, heavy blow.

At that moment, a sudden vibration shattered the calm of the OR.

The nurse glanced at the screen and asked Song Jingmo, “Director, it’s your grandfather calling. Should I pick up?”

Song Jingmo didn’t pause his work.

His grandfather never called during surgery unless something truly unmanageable had happened.

The muscles along Song Jingmo’s back visibly tensed.

“Put it on speaker.”

The nurse quickly picked up, switched to speakerphone.

A stranger’s urgent male voice came through: “Hello? Dr. Song? Your grandfather had an accident!”

“He went up the mountain to cut bamboo this morning, said he wanted to make a rattan chair for you…”

The man spoke quickly and anxiously. “On the way down, he slipped and rolled down the slope… he’s unconscious…”

“We’re on our way to the hospital now, Dr. Song… can you…”

Yin Siyao looked at Song Jingmo. “I can hold here. Xu Bai’s surgery will be done in over half an hour. You should go check on your grandfather…”

Song Jingmo didn’t move, continuing to handle the vessels in front of him.

“The patient’s blood pressure is unstable. I know every bleeding point in this surgery. If someone else takes over, it’ll take at least another few tens of minutes to familiarize themselves.”

“He can’t wait.”

Yin Siyao looked at him, about to say more, but only nodded, “Alright.”

Song Jingmo said calmly, “I’m still in surgery. Please contact the primary point person, Er’er. He’ll go handle it.”

At the other end, villagers helping out erupted in protest.

“What? He’s not coming?”

A middle-aged man shouted, “His own grandfather fell like that, and he says he’s not coming, passing it off to someone else?”

Another murmured, “Becoming head of the hospital has gone to his head… not even caring about his grandfather. What kind of person is that…”

Someone interjected, “Stop talking nonsense! He’s performing surgery, saving lives…”

“Other people’s lives count, but not his own grandfather’s?”

The middle-aged man grew angrier. “He can’t tell the difference between serious and less serious! I say, may lightning strike him!”

“Enough! All of you, shut up.”

Uncle Wang’s expression was stern, eyes scanning the complaining villagers. “Watch your mouths. That Song boy is saving a life. The person lying on the operating table is also someone’s son, husband, and father. Is their life worth less? If he left the operating table, and the patient died, would you take responsibility?”

He paused, voice heavier. “What if the person on that table was your own relative, and the surgeon ran off?”

“If you said your grandfather fell and wanted someone else to handle it, would you point at the doctor and call him unethical and irresponsible?”

The middle-aged man was speechless.

Uncle Wang ignored the murmuring villagers and scrolled through his phone contacts.

Meanwhile, Lu Er was in a conference room with the marketing team discussing the second half’s film and TV investment plans.

His phone vibrated. He answered.

“Hello, is this Xiao Er? I’m Uncle Wang from Song’s village. You greeted me last time…”

Lu Er felt a pang of anxiety. “Yes, Uncle Wang, go ahead.”

He stood, gesturing to pause the meeting, and hurried to the window.

“Grandfather fell, being sent to the hospital. The town says he needs to be transferred to the city. Jingmo says to find you…”

Uncle Wang paused. “He’s still in surgery, can’t leave.”

Lu Er gripped his phone tightly. Without hesitation: “Uncle Wang, send my grandfather to the nearest top-tier municipal hospital. I’ll contact someone to arrange a green channel; surgery should start immediately. I’ll handle the consents and payments.”

Glancing at his watch, he added, “I’m forty minutes away. Tell the doctors to save him first; I’ll cover everything else.”

Uncle Wang visibly relaxed: “Alright, I’ll arrange it immediately…”

Lu Er felt grateful: “Thank you. I’ll be there soon.”

After hanging up, he turned to his confused subordinates, speaking rapidly: “Lin, handle the rest. Send me the meeting minutes. Align internal budgets first; any disputes can wait until I return.”

Before finishing, he was gone, rushing to the elevator.

He drove almost recklessly, running two red lights in a row.

He called Old Chen at the hospital office, requesting help to coordinate the municipal hospital’s green channel.

He also messaged Lu Chen, explaining Jingmo had an emergency and wouldn’t return to the old residence that evening.

Thirty minutes later, the silver sports car stopped precisely at the emergency entrance of Municipal Third Hospital.

Uncle Wang paced the hallway. Seeing Lu Er, he hurried over: “Finally, you’re here!”

“Grandfather?”

Lu Er still panting.

“In the resuscitation room. Doctors say he has a brain contusion and needs surgery immediately. Some risk forms aren’t signed yet…”

“I’ll sign them.”

Lu Er followed the nurse to the office without stopping. “Use the best equipment and medication, don’t worry about cost.”

The nurse quickly handed documents; he signed each one.

After an hour and a half, Lu Er felt completely drained on the bench outside the resuscitation room.

Uncle Wang had gone to rest; the hallway was empty except for Lu Er.

His phone vibrated incessantly.

Messages popped up one after another in the group chat:

Qu Suaiwan: [Uncle Wang said grandfather was sent to the hospital? How is he? We’re changing our flights, earliest we can arrive is the day after tomorrow.]

Song Sinian: [Have you contacted Jingmo? What’s his situation over there?]

Lu Er rubbed his sore brow and typed:

[Jingmo has an emergency surgery, can’t leave. I’m handling things here.]
[Grandfather has a brain contusion, surgery in progress. The chief neurosurgeon at Municipal Third Hospital is leading it, very reputable.]
[Uncle Wang went to rest; I’m at the hospital. Will update you as things progress.]
[Uncle, Aunt, don’t worry, be safe on the road. I’ve got grandfather here.]

Song Sinian: [Thanks for being there. Jingmo over there… also, thanks for understanding.]

Lu Er read this, feeling a sudden warmth inside: [We’re family.]

He added: [Jingmo’s surgery is almost done; he’s on his way.]
[Besides, when my mom was hospitalized, Jingmo was running back and forth too. Family is like that.]

The hallway was quiet, the smell of disinfectant mingling with summer heat, almost suffocating.

Lu Er stared at the red light above the resuscitation room, overwhelmed by emotion.

Every time, Song Jingmo was the one under the surgical light, stitching hope for others.

This time, the person inside was his grandfather.

Over forty minutes later, the elevator at the end of the hallway dinged.

Song Jingmo practically ran out.

Still in deep green surgical scrubs, he had hastily put on a thin coat outside. His hair was messy, sweat dried on his temples.

Looking up, he saw Lu Er sitting alone on the distant bench, knees together, holding his phone, sitting upright like a small creature guarding its territory.

Song Jingmo felt a pang in his chest.

He strode over without a word and bent down, wrapping Lu Er completely in his arms.

Tight, as if embedding him into his very bones.

Lu Er was caught off guard, paused, then his strength drained, and he melted into the embrace.

He buried his face in Song Jingmo’s scrub-scented chest, taking a deep breath.

Familiar, reassuring.

“You finally came… I was so worried.”

His voice muffled, carrying an unnoticed dependence.

“Mm.”

Song Jingmo rested his chin on his head, voice low and hoarse from exhaustion, “You’ve worked hard.”

Lu Er shook his head, murmuring: “Grandfather was unstable; transferring to Municipal Third Hospital was the fastest option. I coordinated with the director here. After surgery, stabilize him here first, then transfer to Kangren Hospital when ready. That way, you can care for him and feel safe.”

He paused, lifted his head, eyes red, forcing a smile: “Kangren is close to where we live; I can visit anytime.”

Song Jingmo looked into his eyes.

Tired, scared, yet no complaints or blame.

He wanted to say “thank you,” but it felt too light.

So he held him tighter, pouring all his gratitude, relief, and fear into the embrace.

“Good thing you were here.”

Song Jingmo choked slightly, “Er’er, you arranged everything perfectly.”

Lu Er rubbed against him, muttering softly: “Then you better treat me better from now on. Can’t always bully me.”

Song Jingmo quietly “mm”ed, tightening his arms.

Two hours later, the OR red light finally went off.

The chief surgeon emerged, removing his mask, exhausted but steady.

“Family? Surgery went well. Brain contusion cleared, consciousness returning gradually.”

Lu Er and Song Jingmo exhaled simultaneously.

The surgeon’s expression grew serious: “However, pre-op checks showed old master’s heart isn’t in good condition. Obvious coronary stenosis, reduced left ventricular ejection fraction. This condition could trigger a heart attack or failure anytime.”

He looked at Song Jingmo; seeing a fellow doctor, his tone became more solemn: “I recommend coronary bypass or stent intervention as soon as possible. During post-op recovery, solve the heart issue; otherwise, sudden complications later could be….”

He left the thought unfinished, but the meaning was clear: without surgery, it’s like a sword hanging overhead.

Song Jingmo was silent a few seconds, then nodded: “Thank you. After transferring to Kangren, I’ll arrange a cardiology consultation immediately.”

The surgeon nodded, gave some post-op instructions, and returned to the OR.

The corridor fell quiet again.

Lu Er watched Song Jingmo’s side profile. His brow, briefly relaxed, now furrowed again.

He knew what Jingmo was worrying about.

Grandfather was old; heart surgery is high-risk with a long recovery.

Having just had one surgery, a second major operation would be tough on his body.

Lu Er said nothing, only reached out and held Song Jingmo’s hand.

Fingers intertwined, palm to palm.

Song Jingmo looked down; emotions began to calm slightly.

“It’ll be fine.”

Lu Er whispered, “We’re here. Once grandfather wakes, we’ll ask him what he wants. And my Dr. Song is so skilled, there’ll be a perfect solution.”

Song Jingmo looked at him, smiling: “I haven’t forgotten—last night, someone stubbornly claimed my skills were poor…”

Lu Er: “….”