There were several people in the department, one was Chen Junnan, and another was Che Mingming. This girl was a typical sharp-tongued Fushun woman, thirty-two years old and still single because she looked down on everyone. Her words could knock you off your feet, but everyone loved being friends with her because she became cheerful when she drank. While drinking, she’d hold a Tianhu beer bottle in one hand and gesture delicately with the other, half-drunk and half-awake, telling her friends at the table: "Look at my slim waist, my curves front and back, my graceful figure. People say I have flirtatious eyes and a seductive shape, and there must be plenty of admirers out there. But what you don’t know is, I’m about to explode from pent-up energy. Come on, let’s drink, it’s all in the alcohol!"
Once sober, she turned into a dignified, elegant lady—a cold, aloof queen.
On his second day at work, Liu Zhengliang encountered a patient straight out of a comedy sketch. Two pedicab drivers, with little work in the afternoon, were cooling off under a poplar tree at the intersection near the Petroleum University. One driver said to the other, "Hey, you know how with cold noodles, you can’t eat more than one bowl? You feel full at the moment, but after a couple of trips to the bathroom, you’re hungry again. Zongzi are better—they’re filling and keep you full."
The other driver replied, "My wife packed me zongzi today."
The first driver immediately walked over, snatched one of the zongzi, fended off his grabbing companion with one hand, and tossed the zongzi into his mouth with the other. In his haste and amid the laughter, he suddenly turned pale, his hands clutching his neck as veins bulged from suffocation.
Fortunately, the Petroleum University intersection was right next to the Second Hospital, and within three minutes, he was rushed to the emergency room.
Liu Zhengliang was performing an ECG on a patient and had just attached the electrodes when he heard cries for help. The patient, aware that his condition wasn’t urgent, understandingly said to Liu Zhengliang, "If you have something urgent to attend to, go ahead. I can watch this myself—it’s just three lines. I’ll call you if they go flat."
Che Mingming chimed in, "You’re fine; your ECG is bouncing around like a musical staff."
The pedicab driver’s companion was shouting for help all the way. Liu Zhengliang immediately left the examination room, not even making it to the outpatient area, and asked in the hall, "What happened?"
The companion answered, "He choked on a zongzi."
Liu Zhengliang quickly peered into the patient’s mouth and instructed his colleague Che Mingming to fetch an endoscope from the dental department, as the zongzi was lodged too deep to see without it. The patient had already been suffocating for three to four minutes; one more minute could be critical.
Liu Zhengliang said to Chen Junnan, "Let’s try the Heimlich maneuver first; the zongzi is in the windpipe."
The pedicab driver was too overweight, and Liu Zhengliang struggled to get a firm hold. Wrapping his arms from behind around the patient’s abdomen, he couldn’t even clasp his hands together. Chen Junnan pushed upward from the front, applying pressure to the chest to help dislodge the zongzi. After a few attempts, they checked the throat—using a phone flashlight since the endoscope hadn’t arrived—but still couldn’t see any zongzi remnants.
Chen Junnan said, "Maybe we should intubate quickly? Any longer suffocating, and the patient won’t make it."
Liu Zhengliang was about to agree but immediately countered, "No, he ate zongzi—it’s sticky. Intubating could push it further down."
Chen Junnan responded promptly, "Then let’s perform a tracheotomy."
Liu Zhengliang’s eyes scanned all the equipment in the emergency room, hoping to find a tool that could be of use.Hemostatic forceps.
This was a good tool. Liu Zhengliang picked up the hemostatic forceps, positioned the laryngoscope, and directly inserted it into the patient's mouth. The tip of the forceps could just reach the blockage and even clamp out the sticky rice dumpling. Che Mingming had already prepared the endoscope and rushed over to examine the patient, only to find that the situation had already been resolved.
The patient's complexion gradually changed from ashen to rosy, and he regained consciousness shortly after. The two men thanked Liu Zhengliang profusely, and Liu Zhengliang joked, "Be careful when eating from now on. You're grown adults—haven't you heard the saying 'don't talk while eating or sleeping'?"
The driver even asked, "Hey, doctor, do you think he's just not evolved enough? How could he choke on a sticky rice dumpling?"
Chen Junnan chuckled beside them and said, "The human throat has a switch. When breathing, it flips to one side; when eating, it flips to the other. You can only do one of these two things at a time. He just flipped the switch wrong, and the train derailed."
Before the sticky rice dumpling choking patient was even sent away, the siren of an ambulance rang out—another emergency. The emergency center relayed that a fifteen-year-old girl had been hit by a large truck while leaving school at noon and was in critical condition.
When the stretcher arrived, several doctors immediately took over.
The nurse pushed the stretcher toward the emergency operating room at a sprint, shouting as she ran, "Blood pressure 75 over 55."
The patient was already in a deep coma. Liu Zhengliang carefully observed her: there was bleeding on the right temporal scalp. When he parted her blood-soaked hair, he discovered that brain tissue was already protruding with her rapid, ineffective breaths.
Liu Zhengliang's heart sank halfway. So young! He immediately shouted to Chen Junnan, "Open craniocerebral injury, bandage it quickly."
Liu Zhengliang then pried open the patient's eyelids: both pupils were dilated, and when light was shone into her eyes, the 5mm light reflex was absent. Checking other areas, he found abrasions on her chest and abdomen and a fracture in her left thigh. He then gave orders to Che Mingming: "Stabilize the thigh simply, have the nurse shave her head, check her blood type, prepare for electrocardiogram monitoring, arrange for catheterization, and treat for shock."
After some basic treatment, Liu Zhengliang and the others sent the patient into the emergency green channel CT room. Chen Junnan looked at the CT scan and said, "Temporal epidural hematoma, multiple skull fractures, severe displacement of brain tissue compressing the brainstem, and obstructed cerebrospinal fluid circulation."
Chen Junnan fell silent for two seconds before looking at the people around him and saying, "Brain herniation."
Brain herniation refers to a condition where a space-occupying lesion in one compartment of the cranial cavity increases pressure above that of other compartments, causing brain tissue to shift from the high-pressure area to the low-pressure area, sometimes even squeezing into the gaps or openings of the dura mater.
The little girl's parents arrived at this point, surrounding the doctors and asking about her condition. Chen Junnan replied with "brain herniation," but the parents couldn't understand at all, looking utterly bewildered.
Liu Zhengliang said, "The brain nerves are being stretched and compressed, the brainstem tissue is also being stretched and compressed, and the cerebrospinal fluid circulation inside the brain is obstructed. Simply put, the child's brain has been severely damaged from the impact inside—like tofu being smashed into tofu dregs, completely scattered. Without surgery, there's basically no hope. Even with surgery, she could very likely end up in a vegetative state. Surgery, post-operative support, and a lot of medication could easily cost two to three hundred thousand yuan. Even after spending the money, we might not be able to save her, or if we do, she might remain in a vegetative state. Think it over carefully before you decide."The little girl's mother glanced at her father and asked Liu Zhengliang, "Doctor, what are the chances you can save her?"
Liu Zhengliang, who had become overly cautious after past setbacks, immediately thought of refusing. He wanted to avoid this pitfall. Based on his experience, he judged that saving this child would be extremely difficult. Since the odds were low, there was no need to put himself at risk. At Heping Hospital, such procedures required at least an associate senior title to lead, while he, an interventional attending physician, had never independently performed this level of surgery. He lacked both technical confidence and mental preparedness. If the child couldn't be saved and it sparked online controversy, losing his job at Fushun Second Hospital would force him to secretly run an underground clinic treating colds and fevers with IV drips. For a moment, he disgusted himself by uttering some truthful yet unprofessional excuses. He hoped to scare off the family with difficulties while using them as a shield for his own safety.
The little girl's father said, "We'll do the surgery. Money isn't an issue for our family."
No money issues? Then why does your child attend that rundown school on Gongnong Street? Why live in the workers' community of the refractory materials factory? The doctors could read between the lines. Liu Zhengliang had studied there himself—out of fifty-two classmates, he was the only one who made it to high school. The others ended up in karaoke bars or vegetable markets. Most parents there were laid-off and defeated, their children left to fend for themselves. His own escape was a miracle.
Seeing Liu Zhengliang hesitate, the little girl's father seemed to guess the doctor's self-preservation instinct. He dropped to his knees with a thud. "Please, Doctor, save my daughter. Even if you can't, we're decent people—we won't blame you. I'm begging you, Doctor."
Liu Zhengliang nodded and was about to agree when Chen Junnan cut in, "First, pay the surgery fee and sign the forms quickly. Whether it's surgery or treatment, we need the paperwork."
Liu Zhengliang understood Chen Junnan's meaning—his old classmate was protecting him. This prioritize-safety-over-truth approach highlighted what he saw as his fundamental conflict with Fushun. But hadn't he himself been just as despicable moments earlier, however briefly?
The little girl's father asked, "Doctor, how much will it cost?"
Chen Junnan replied, "Prepare thirty thousand for starters. That's just the baseline—there'll be more later."
The father said, "I only have sixteen hundred on me now. I'll pay that first. I'll go home to get the rest. Money isn't a problem—I can manage it. Doctor, please treat my daughter right away. I won't run off—I'll be back in half an hour, guaranteed."
As the father turned to leave, Liu Zhengliang stopped him. "Don't rush off. The money can wait—we'll operate even without it, so don't worry. But you must sign the forms. We've explained all the risks. Once you confirm and sign, we can proceed. The surgery will happen immediately, followed by medication. Don't delay—hurry and prepare the funds."
Without hesitation, both parents signed immediately.
The little girl's father jogged out of the emergency room to withdraw money, while her mother collapsed on the spot after signing.Liu Zhengliang and the others walked from the emergency room corridor toward the operating room. Just as they reached the entrance, they spotted Ai Chen. Chen Junnan gestured with his chin toward a man nearby and said to Liu Zhengliang, "That's Ai San."
Ai San was no ordinary character. In his youth, he was defiant toward everyone. Coupled with being laid off and having no money in his pockets, he was egged on by dubious friends and joined them in a robbery. The victim, of course, refused to take it lying down, and a fight broke out. Ai San pulled out a knife and struck with the back of the blade, intending to intimidate. In the pitch darkness, one of his buddies mistook it for a lethal move and followed up with a stab that killed the victim. Naturally, after being caught, that guy was sentenced to death and executed. Ai San received an 18-year sentence. By the tenth year of his imprisonment, his father, consumed by anxiety and smoking three packs a day, finally developed lung cancer. By the time it was diagnosed, it was already terminal, with only 20 minutes of breath left, clinging to life just to see his son one last time. The prison showed exceptional mercy, allowing guards to escort Ai San for a final visit. Upon hearing her father was coming back, Ai Chen stayed home making dumplings to wait. The moment Ai San stepped through the door, he shouted into his father's ear, "Dad, I'm back to see you." A minute later, the old man opened his eyes; his pupils, on the verge of dilating, slowly focused for a long while before clarity returned. Seeing his son had returned, with prison guards behind him, he gathered a breath—whether from his dantian or the crown of his head, no one knew—and screamed with all his might one word: "Run." Not a second after that word, his neck twisted, and he was gone. It was like a gas canister in a Northeast winter running on fumes: placed in a large basin of water, scalded with hot water, the gas expands with heat, and the flame flares up for an instant before vanishing. Ai Chen stood there shaking the gas canister; no matter what, her ladle of dumplings would never come to a boil.
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