If it failed, the patient’s family might go berserk and refuse to acknowledge the consent form. The leaders, for the sake of their reputations, might deny any responsibility and feign ignorance. Ultimately, Du Heng would be the one to suffer.
"Why should you do it? If you don’t agree, no one will fault you."
Du Heng paused for a moment. "Conscience."
"How much is conscience worth? What if..."
"Gong, I understand. Don’t worry, I won’t proceed without assurances. I’m not a saint."
With that, Du Heng placed the consent form before Gong Daoyang. "Gong, you should sign it too. With the signature of a police station chief like yourself, anyone with malicious intent will have to think twice."
"You crafty young fellow, you’ve even roped me into this!"
This time, Gong Daoyang laughed and then readily signed his name.
"Go ahead and do what you need to. Gong has your back."
Du Heng took back the consent form, and the two brothers quickly added their signatures.
Now, only one leader’s signature remained.
Among the many leaders present, only two were truly eligible to sign: Song and An Chunhui. Even if the Big Leader himself were to sign, it wouldn’t serve any significant purpose.
Between the two eligible individuals, Song would typically be the first choice.
Song had the ambition of a leader but lacked a leader’s judgment and courage.
It was understandable to desire great achievements and claim credit.
However, he was also someone who shirked responsibility, lacking a sense of duty or accountability.
He craved power and position but not the accompanying obligations and responsibilities.
In the short six days since becoming the acting Dean, he had thoroughly exposed his inherent nature.
He stole Li Qingde’s credit, used his personal connections to claim Li Qingde’s achievements as his own, and manipulated others into owing him favors. Today’s meeting also served his ulterior motives, as he constantly made things difficult for Du Fei and Du Heng.
Li Qingde had worked in Zhonghu Town for five years and hadn’t caused as much upheaval as Song had in merely six days.
Would such a timid man, so afraid of responsibility, be willing to sign off on the use of 200 grams of aconite, or possibly an even larger dose? Would he dare?
Willing or not, daring or not, Du Heng was now determined to settle the score.
For six days, Du Heng had stifled a great rage.
So, Du Heng placed the pen and paper before Song, his expression serious and intent.
Seeing the pen and paper extended towards him, Song panicked, just as Du Heng had anticipated.
The Big Leader might not grasp the dangers and regulations for using aconite, but he, Song, certainly did. Small doses of aconite, if administered improperly, could cause a burning sensation in the mouth and widespread numbness. Some patients might experience nausea, vomiting, and restricted breathing. More severe symptoms included dilated pupils, a slowed pulse, cold and pale skin, and in critical cases, even death. And now they were proposing 200 grams! If anything went wrong, the patient’s death was certain. He couldn’t dare risk his career and future on Du Heng. True, Du Heng’s medical skills had shown remarkable improvement recently, but he had never handled such a massive dose of aconite. Du Heng was too young, with no established track record to warrant such trust. Even though he was an administrator, after more than twenty years at the Health Clinic, he understood these fundamental risks. If the treatment succeeded, he, Song, would receive some praise at best, but Du Heng would be the hero. If the patient died and the family created an uproar, his career would be finished. He couldn’t bear such a responsibility.
Song began to stammer, his face etched with distress. He glanced at Du Heng, then at the Big Leader, but made no move to take the pen and paper.
And what did the Big Leader want? People who could get things done, who could handle matters competently, people who could enhance his prestige. Making mistakes wasn’t the main concern; the important thing was to act.
With so many people watching, Song’s hesitation made the Big Leader lose face, and the Big Leader’s expression darkened ominously.
"Director An, is this the Dean you selected?"
An Chunhui’s face burned; he wanted to kill Song on the spot.
"Director An, bring it here. I’ll sign it."
The moment the Big Leader spoke, An Chunhui cursed inwardly. He’d been so preoccupied with wanting to berate Song that he’d completely overlooked the matter of the signature.
Cold sweat beaded on An Chunhui’s forehead. He hurried forward two steps and shot Song a fierce glare.
Taking the pen and paper from Du Heng, he immediately signed his name. "Doctor Du, you can now proceed with the treatment boldly and without any burden. Always remember, the lives of the masses are paramount. The Big Leader and I will support you."
After speaking, An Chunhui subtly glanced at the Big Leader from the corner of his eye. Seeing the Big Leader’s expression soften slightly, he finally let out a sigh of relief.
If he had actually handed the consent form to the Big Leader just now, the Big Leader would undoubtedly have signed his own name. But then, his own position as Director would have become extremely difficult. Fortunately, he hadn’t been so incensed by that coward Song’s behavior that he’d made a foolish mistake; otherwise, it would have been disastrous.
Du Heng also noticed An Chunhui’s expression.
He understood. With that, Song’s tenure as acting Dean was effectively over; he’d never get the chance to remove the "acting" from his title.
With the "immunity from death" secured, Du Heng felt more confident.
After once more reviewing his proposed treatment plan and confirming there were no issues, he asked Du Fei, who was nearby, "Fei, do you have aconite, dried ginger, roasted licorice, musk... these items?"
Du Fei thought for a moment and shook his head slightly. "I only stock plant-based medicines. I don’t have insect or mineral medicines. Especially musk—that stuff is far too expensive for us to afford."
"Then forget it. Let’s head directly to the Health Clinic."
Turning to the two anxiously waiting men, he said, "Get your mother into the vehicle and rush her to the Health Clinic. Her condition is critical; her breathing is very faint, and she could pass away at any moment. Hurry!"
The two men quickly turned and lifted their mother, whom they had just set down, back into the van.
Du Heng didn’t have time to exchange pleasantries with the Big Leader. He immediately picked up his phone and called the Health Clinic Pharmacy, Nurse Wang Lili, and his assistant, Wu Buwei.
It was the May Day holiday, so the Health Clinic was deserted. He had to summon people on an emergency basis.
Hopefully, none of them had traveled far, or things would become truly difficult.
After a round of calls, he learned that due to the landslide in Shang Ling Village, everyone was either at home or in the city and hadn’t gone far.
So, upon receiving the call and hearing it was an urgent directive from leadership, everyone quickly started heading back to the Health Clinic.
Du Heng hung up and walked straight to his car.
He never would have imagined that the car he’d been so reluctant to buy just yesterday would prove indispensable today.
Watching the vehicles depart with sirens blaring, then surveying the chaotic scene of the tents, the Big Leader finally felt a measure of relief. He glanced at Song, who stood dejectedly to the side, and remarked to An Chunhui, "This young doctor is quite good. Most importantly, he’s responsible. Very good indeed."
Responsible? Who was the Big Leader referring to? This was a subtle reprimand, a jab at him, An Chunhui, for his poor judgment—look at the kind of person he had chosen!
An Chunhui was somewhat familiar with Du Heng, once from an evaluation and another time when Song had delivered documents before the holiday.
Therefore, An Chunhui could only follow the Big Leader’s cue and speak about Du Heng’s merits.
Otherwise, if the Big Leader continued to reprimand him , he wouldn’t be able to save face with so many colleagues present.