The Surgeon’s Studio

Life went on as usual.

After the shocking incident, the medical staff at the hospital had little time to weep. The sun still rose the next day on its fixed path through the sky.

Zheng Ren roused from a good rest. His body was feeling much better.

There was mild discomfort and he suspected it was due to the cold wind yesterday. Su Yun’s sweater had been insufficient for the weather.

Zheng Ren ignored it and instead pondered on what souvenirs to buy for Xie Yiren.

Su Yun’s words from yesterday echoed in his mind.

The man was right. Zheng Ren should be thinking about Xie Yiren. What should he get for her?

To Zheng Ren, this was more difficult than performing a surgery.

In the end, he gave up trying to think of something, deciding to drag Su Yun to some stores after the surgery was complete.

The man was popular among ladies, so Zheng Ren assumed he would have some experience in buying gifts.

On the other hand, Zheng Ren had no experience; getting Su Yun’s help was the logical choice.

Once that was settled, Zheng Ren’s mind calmed down and he scrolled through his phone. He made some small talk with the girls in the group chat and read some light novels.

It was rare for him to have time to read.

Su Yun was on his bed, tapping away on his phone as usual.

Half an hour passed and Su Yun suddenly said, “There were some general surgery guys who came by asking to see you. I sent them away.”

“Huh? What did they want?” Zheng Ren asked absentmindedly as he read his novel.

“It was about Fang Lin, of course. You really put yourself out there, you know? Boss Zheng?” Su Yun said with a mocking smile.

The derision was clear in Su Yun’s exaggerated emphasis on ‘boss’.

Unfazed by the man’s antics, Zheng Ren coolly replied, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I told them you were getting the drip and that they shouldn’t disturb you. Let’s make a detour to the general surgery department later,” Su Yun said, unaffected by Zheng Ren’s rebuff. He continued talking, “What do you want for lunch? I’ll take you for a bite. Those Imperial Capital folk are so boring.”

“You? Bored? Is it because you haven’t stepped into the OR for some time?” Zheng Ren chuckled.

“Hey! I’m not the one with the disorder, alright?”

Su Yun went back to his phone and the conversation died down.

Once both men were rested and ready to leave, Su Yun led them through the fire escape to the general surgery department.

They reached it as a high-pitched wail cut through the air.

A stretcher trolley passed them with a teenager onboard. She was thrashing about, both hands clutching her abdomen. It was an emergency case and they were heading for a check-up.

Something about the patient caught Zheng Ren’s eye and he stopped.

Su Yun almost bumped into Zheng Ren. “Hey, move. You’re blocking my way.”

“Oh.”

“What? Was something wrong with the patient?” Su Yun asked jokingly.

“Tell them to prepare for an emergency surgery.”

“Dude, just because people call you a boss, you think you’re the boss of every hospital department? Do you even know what the patient has? You’re gradually becoming a witch doctor. Let me know when you get blacklisted, but please don’t let it happen when you’re operating,” Su Yun instinctively mocked.

“Did you see the patient’s mole? By her lips?” Zheng Ren asked.

What did a mole have to do with surgery?

The non-sequitur broke Su Yun’s train of thought.

“Did you know that there is a genetic disorder called Peutz–Jeghers syndrome?” Zheng Ren said as he walked.

It was a rare occasion when Su Yun had nothing to say.

“The patient looks to be 14 or 15. Moles by her lips, even her fingers have them.”

“Are you gonna perform cosmetic surgery now?” Su Yun knew Zheng Ren was building up a case but could not resist injecting some sarcasm into their conversation.

“PJS is a genetic disorder characterized by polyps in the gastrointestinal tract. The small intestine is the main target. Some have polyps developing in the stomach, colon and rectum,” Zheng Ren explained.

“Wait…” Su Yun caught up to Zheng Ren’s pace and asked, “What does it have to do with her abdominal pain?”

“Most PJS patients have mole-like features on the hands, feet, and face. Those are actually polyps.”

“Okay, so what does it have to do with the abdominal pain?” Su Yu repeated.

He had an angry scowl on his face.

“The size of the polyps varies but most are pedunculated. This increases the risk of intussusception,” Zheng Ren explained, then asked, “Have you ever received a case of ovarian torsion due to pedunculated polyps?”

At that moment, Zheng Ren’s seniority was indisputable.

All doctors had a competitive streak. Knowing more than one’s peers was very much an ego boost.

Su Yun was at a loss.

He had never heard of this P-J syndrome. He was not familiar with rare disorders that almost never appeared in the hospital.

His innate talent could not make up for experience.

Su Yun had previously been a researcher in cardiothoracic surgery. General surgery was not his field of expertise.

“Brother Yun’s here,” one of the doctors announced when they heard Su Yun’s voice.

Zheng Ren’s arrival was also greeted warmly. “Boss Zheng, you finally have the free time to visit us.”

“Him being free means you’re gonna be busy soon,” Su Yun muttered.

The line caught the Imperial Capital chief resident by surprise, his outstretched hand faltering midway.

Zheng Ren shook his hand regardless and asked, “And you are?”

“Chief Resident Wang.”

Su Yun went straight to the point. “Old Wang, can you get your people to check if that patient has an abnormal number of moles on her soles and palms?”

“Eh…” The chief resident hesitated, then asked, “You suspect it’s Peutz–Jeghers syndrome?”

“It’s Boss Zheng’s hypothesis. What do your people think?” Su Yun said.

“I was suspecting strangulated intestinal obstruction and wanted to do a CT scan to check before operating,” Chief Resident Wang said. “If it’s PJS, we’ll need to operate fast.”

Peutz–Jeghers syndrome was a rare occurrence even in an Imperial Capital Class Three Grade A Hospital.

Chief Resident Wang’s only exposure to this disorder was through a professor’s lecture. As the patient was rushed into the emergency department, he had not noticed the unusual pigments on the patient’s face and hands.

“Hello. Can you help check if there are mole-like appearances on the patient’s palms and soles?”

It was a simple request that Chief Resident Wang could fulfill.

“Alright. Once the preliminary check is complete, prepare for surgery.”

He put down the phone and turned to Zheng Ren, a peculiar expression on his face. “There’s hyperpigmentation on her soles.”

“Okay. You should get ready for surgery, then.”