"What?" Zhu Jun received a call from Yuan Xiaoli, his eyes popped out, "Say it again!"

"Master, Qinghua said that the operation was not done by him, but by his little doctor named Zhou Congwen."

"Not this, what do you think of a straight-cut stapler?"

"He said that during the operation, it was a U-shaped suture made with a straight-cut stapler." Yuan Xiaoli said with certainty, and then added, "This is what Qinghua told me, but I don't believe it."

"I don't believe it very much. Are you a surgeon? Even if you haven't studied medicine, you have been fed dogs for nine years of compulsory education!" Zhu Jun opened his mouth and scolded, "I can't tell the straight line. You believe whatever Li Qinghua said, "You have a brain, and you have such a good brain for the dog to eat!"

"..." Yuan Xiaoli concluded.

Originally, he just guessed that Lu Tiancheng would tell Director Zhu about the Third Hospital, but he didn't expect Director Zhu to call him directly.

Yes, this matter is too incredible, and I have been wondering if Li Qinghua is shaking himself.

Zhu Jun hung up the phone angrily.

It's so fucking. Yuan Xiaoli actually believed this kind of lie. Did he have an operation in the third hospital and his brain was irritated during anesthesia? Zhu Jun cursed a few words in his heart.

But he knew that the operation might have been played by Li Qinghua, but the result was there.

Whether Yuan Xiaoli or calling the patient's family to show concern, the answers they got were the same. On the first day after the operation, only a very small amount of gas overflowed from the chest vial.

What a fuck, how did Li Qinghua do it!

Zhu Jun was puzzled.

...

...

Zhou Congwen's attention is still focused on the patient's family.

He knew that the patient's son who was crying at the beginning had never appeared, so this matter was not over.

However, seeing that the patient's closed chest drainage bottle was getting less and less, and the breathing sound of both lungs was clear, Zhou Congwen was not very worried.

There must be a reason to cause trouble.

When Chinese people do things, they can never be polite.

Although there are people who have no reason and want to mess around, they are a minority after all. If they really reach that point, Zhou Congwen is still not afraid.

When he returned to the doctor's office, he saw everyone writing medical records. Zhou Congwen sat by the window.

It is far away from the door and is facing the door. The sun shines down, warm and warm, making people feel extremely comfortable.

But Zhou Congwen was not because of the sunshine, but a habit formed in his previous life.

You cannot be close to the door, and you cannot face the door with your back. This has formed an instinct after countless cases of killing doctors.

Zhou Congwen squinted his eyes and paid attention to the people walking outside the office. He wanted to see the patient's family, the person who cried to death that day.

But as time passed by, I didn’t see the patient’s family. Zhou Congwen saw a black line, and a few crows were faintly flying over his head, Shen Lang, who was flying over his head, walked in.

Shen Lang seemed to have a strong black aura all over his body, his steps were heavy, with a hint of sleepiness and fatigue, and wrote the four words "no fun" on his face.

When Zhou Congwen saw Shen Lang holding a thick white paper envelope in his hand, he immediately understood what was going on.

The article was rejected by the magazine again, but this guy's high hopes for was still not printed in lead type.

Should I recall the novels I have read? Zhou Congwen thought about it, but immediately gave up this idea.

I have to waste my life and write some novels without doing it. Isn’t this sick?

Who is the ceiling for writing novels? Who is the ceiling for medical treatment?

Emmm, it seemed that the ceiling was sitting here looking at Shen Lang, but he didn't know it.

"Shen Lang, what?" Zhou Congwen asked with a smile.

"It's okay." Shen Lang listlessly blocked the thick envelope into the drawer.

"Go away, go smoke a cigarette."

"No." Shen Lang seemed to have lost his desire for life, and sat on the chair as soft as if his spine had been pulled away, his eyes were dull and there was no trace of luster.

Zhou Congwen smiled and said, "If you don't go, that's right. I'll check your medical records."

Shen Lang immediately jumped up from the chair, "Look at you, why are you anxious when you say a few words? You can't use your power for personal gain! Isn't smoking enough?"

In the end, Shen Lang was already out of anger and became timid.

"That's it." Zhou Congwen stood up with a smile, patted Shen Lang on the shoulder, "Let's go."

"I found out that the director also smoked. We should be in the duty room." Shen Lang whispered.

It seems that, Wang Chengfa has already gone to the outpatient clinic, but his strong inertia makes Zhou Congwen unaware that smoking can be in the duty room.

"Awesome." Zhou Congwen said.

"What's so amazing, a loser?" Shen Lang said depressedly.

“What do you say about the editor?”

"Just like before, I only read two pages this time and made three red marks." Shen Lang sighed, "I guess I was left in the corner, but I thought I was left behind before..."

His voice became more and more low, with a hint of sadness.

"Let me see." Zhou Congwen opened the window and took out the cigarette box. He did not let Shen Lang light a cigarette on his own.

"What you see is not a good job, nothing you see is in the eyes of editors. You have to go to buy magazines by yourself."

"By the way, aren't you going to write an online article? Is it the beginning? Hahaha, there are actually many stories that are wonderful in themselves, but the storyteller doesn't know how to write them, so he throws them aside."

"Hmm? You..."

"For example, who is the most famous person in the Wu Temple?" Zhou Congwen asked.

Shen Lang thought for a while and answered in confusion, "Li Jing, Pharmacist Li?"

"Yes, the three major battles he fought were completely unrecognizable. Three years ago, Li Er signed the city alliance, but three years later, Li Jing led his troops to take revenge.

As a result, he personally led three thousand cavalrymen and directly brought the capital of the people. How do you tell me this storyteller make up, there is no element of the story."

Zhou Congwen was earnest and tempted.

“What elements do the story require?”

"First of all, he is a young man with a humble background. For example, Huo Qubing is a template. Don't argue with me that he is Wei Qing's relative. You will know if you look carefully." Zhou Congwen said, "Secondly, it will be ups and downs. How many years has it taken to Huo Qubing the Wolf Juxu? Look at Li Jing again, three years!"

Zhou Congwen didn't read many novels in the past, but he was very capable of making up random things and said a lot of things. Shen Lang was immersed in Zhou Congwen's context, and his emotions seemed to have improved a lot.

"Anyway, don't deceive the young man and be poor is the main line. Don't write down what is aggrieved."

"Congwen, I write science fiction, and it doesn't involve these things. What you said... are the kind that everyone doesn't like." Shen Lang looked up confused and said.
Chapter completed!