After having lunch, Zhao Heng was in the anesthesiology doctors’ office preparing to continue on his paper.
"On Perioperative Brain Function and Consciousness Recovery"
After looking at the paper title he just opened, Zhao Heng took a sip of coffee and immersed himself in his work again.
The paper Zhao Heng was working on was of significant value, as the techniques discussed in it were not only cutting-edge but also held great instructional and forward-looking significance.
Once published, at a minimum, it would be an SCI paper with an impact factor of over 6.0.
Zhao Heng had previously thought about resolving his academic qualifications, and this paper was perfectly poised to be his stepping stone into academia.
After applying for Professor Huang’s graduate program, this paper could serve as his thesis work during graduate studies, saving him a lot of time in his pursuit of a graduate degree.
He might even be able to go straight from master’s to doctorate, completing both in one go.
However, Zhao Heng estimated that the process would take at least two years.
There’s no way around it: the typical master’s-to-doctorate track is five years, with the first two years for master’s studies and the last three for the doctorate.
Compressing the timeline to two years was the maximum reduction possible.
Any less, and the value of the doctorate would become questionable.
p.m.
Zhao Heng finally typed the last word of his paper, completing it.
To finish as quickly as possible, Zhao Heng even ordered takeout for dinner.
Seeing the exceptionally high-value paper he produced filled Zhao Heng with a strong sense of accomplishment.
Indeed, the sense of achievement from work can be quite addictive.
After organizing his work, Zhao Heng sent the paper to Liu Ziang’s inbox.
As previously agreed, once Zhao Heng finished the paper, he’d send it to Liu Ziang for review.
After sending it, Zhao Heng took a brief rest and was about to pack up when the phone suddenly rang.
Answering it, Zhao Heng found it was Liu Ziang on the line.
"Junior, you haven’t left yet, right? Come chat with me in neurosurgery; I’m on the night shift."
As soon as the call connected, Liu Ziang’s cheerful voice came across.
"How did you know I hadn’t left?"
Zhao Heng asked, somewhat puzzled.
"I could tell from the IP address of your email; it’s still within the hospital. All right, I’ve even prepared some late-night snacks; come quickly."
Liu Ziang continued.
At some point, Zhao Heng had become quite familiar with Liu Ziang.
Though reserved with others, Liu Ziang seemed to open up when interacting with Zhao Heng, becoming very outgoing.
Could this be the real nature of a genius?
Zhao Heng sometimes wondered.
"Alright."
Zhao Heng agreed readily.
Honestly, communicating with Liu Ziang was indeed more fluid than with others, as Liu’s skills were a cut above the rest at the hospital.
After hanging up, Zhao Heng quickly left the OR and headed to the neurosurgery department.
On arriving at the deputy chief’s office, Zhao Heng immediately noticed the table was covered with late-night snacks like crawfish, grilled beef, lamb skewers, and ice-cold cola.
Looking at the array of snacks, Zhao Heng was a bit dazed.
"Sit down and eat—I didn’t know what you like, so I just ordered a bit of everything."
From the sofa, where he was intently studying Zhao Heng’s paper with a laptop, Liu Ziang casually smiled and beckoned him over.
"Did you buy all this? Do you, a deputy chief on duty, even have the time for this?"
Zhao Heng casually sat on the sofa and asked Liu Ziang, slightly puzzled.
"Of course not; I had my graduate students buy it."
Liu Ziang chuckled as he replied.
"Uh... You really know how to delegate..."
Zhao Heng remarked with some resignation.
Liu Ziang was the deputy chief of neurosurgery at Eastern Hospital and also an associate professor at Boya Medical College, fully qualified to supervise graduate students academically.
But having graduate students do such errands did seem a bit wasteful.
"Well, go ask around at Boya to see which other advisor’s students get a stipend of 2,800 a month."
Liu Ziang said.
Though demanding and even strict with his students, he managed to secure many benefits for them.
He was a tough but caring individual.
However, in Zhao Heng’s presence, his "tough façade" seemed to disappear.
"Fair enough."
Seeing Liu Ziang like this, Zhao Heng even wondered if the person before him was the same academically aloof genius he had previously known.
Nevertheless, Zhao Heng picked up a beef skewer, savoring it with sips of cold cola—it was delightful!
Strangely, despite knowing many doctors in anesthesiology, Zhao Heng clicked best with Liu Ziang.
In just a short span, they had bonded like lifelong friends.
It wasn’t really surprising, though.
After acquiring and melding the skills of various doctors at Eastern Hospital, Zhao Heng’s skills were unmatched among the young.
This meant that ordinary doctors always seemed to lack something in Zhao Heng’s eyes.
Only a true genius like Liu Ziang could keep up with his line of thought.
Similarly, Liu Ziang saw Zhao Heng as a rare peer who could match his intellectual pace.
As the saying goes, "it’s lonely at the top"; such geniuses often lack intellectual peers, explaining their camaraderie and mutual admiration.
"Not bad, not bad. This paper you’ve written is genuinely good, almost 80% of my level."
As he read Zhao Heng’s paper, Liu Ziang praised him, though it sounded like self-complimenting.
"Eighty percent...?"
Hearing this, Zhao Heng was left speechless.
But perhaps Liu Ziang was being truthful.
Zhao Heng could absorb various skills from different doctors, yet paper writing wasn’t among them.
Maybe the system didn’t classify it as a skill—after all, what use is it for a doctor to only write papers?!
Moreover, with several years of experience guiding graduate students, Liu Ziang was indeed more proficient than Zhao Heng in academic writing.
"Where are you planning to submit it?"
Liu Ziang asked again.
"The paper covers aspects of both neurology and anesthesiology. I haven’t decided on a specific field to submit it to yet."
Zhao Heng replied, still somewhat undecided, revealing his limited understanding of academia.
"Why not submit it to both? Let me recommend it for you."
Unfazed, Liu Ziang responded.
"Is that even possible?"
Upon hearing this, Zhao Heng felt like he’d made a groundbreaking discovery.
"Of course, some papers span three or four disciplines and are submitted to all those journals."
Liu Ziang explained.
"Alright then."
Zhao Heng nodded.
"Yes, I’ll polish it a bit and handle the submission."
Liu Ziang was particularly attentive to Zhao Heng’s work, possibly because of their mutual recognition as kindred spirits.
"Okay, with work out of the way, let’s enjoy the midnight snacks."
Putting down his laptop with a smile, Liu Ziang said.
Being able to talk freely with a close friend and share midnight snacks and cola was one of life’s great joys.
Such was the ease of being with Liu Ziang.
His seemingly cold demeanor in professional settings was merely for work.
"Is your neurosurgery department usually this laid-back? Enough time for late-night snacks and all?"
As Zhao Heng polished off several crawfish, he remarked to Liu Ziang while wiping his hands.
"No, no, no. Don’t mention ’laid-back’ while on call. You know it’s bad luck to say those words during a night shift!"
At Zhao Heng’s comment, Liu Ziang immediately reacted as if stung.
This month, during his night shifts, he’d been swamped every night with back-to-back cases.
Finally, with a quiet night for once—without any emergencies, able to relax, enjoy some snacks, and discuss academic matters—Zhao Heng had to jinx it.
"Uh... I was just saying, it can’t be that serious..."
Zhao Heng hesitated, seeing Liu Ziang’s reaction.
Before Liu Ziang could respond, a male resident doctor hurriedly entered the office. He paused, surprised to see Liu Ziang and Zhao Heng eating snacks but quickly reported, "Director Liu, there’s been a car accident on Highway 412. There’s a patient with severe brain trauma sent over, and the emergency room needs your consultation."
With the resident’s announcement, Zhao Heng’s expression froze.
"I told you not to say those words!"
"Come on, let’s go for the consultation. If there’s an all-night surgery, anesthesia is your responsibility!"
Exasperated, Liu Ziang remarked to Zhao Heng.
Thus, Zhao Heng was conscripted, following Liu Ziang into the consultation...