Novel Bin Chapter 255: What Did He Do To That Damned Prostate (Part 4 of 5)
Chapter 255: What Did He Do To That Damned Prostate (Part 4 of 5)
Contrary to Li Xiaochen’s expectations, Zheng Ren’s expression remained stoic. The young doctor repeated, “1.5 million.”
Li Xiaochen’s pulse quickened. Was he too late? Had the doctor received a better offer from another company?
He ground his teeth and said, “Net pay after taxes”
Under the renewed tax system, a net annual salary of 1.5 million meant that the hospital would be shouldering a tax value in the hundreds of thousands.
“Hm.” Zheng Ren’s expression remained neutral as he fiddled with the micro guide wire in his hand like an old monk counting his beads.
“Our hospital has the best interventional surgery facilities, perfect for bringing your abilities to their full potential. Also, you wouldn’t have to be on-call for emergency surgery. All our patients are self-paying and you will never have to deal with insurance companies,” Li Xiaochen added.
He was going all in.
This made Zheng Ren actually construct a full sentence. “Oh, your hospital is quite impressive.”
Was it not enough?
Li Xiaochen felt like retreating. This young lion possibly had an astronomical demand in mind.
However, that seemed unlikely given the look on Zheng Ren’s face, as if money, top-notch facilities and a good working environment meant nothing to him.
These were the main factors that influenced a doctor’s decision to take up employment in a hospital.
What did he really want?
Li Xiaochen thought long and hard...
“Director Li, if there’s nothing more, I...” Zheng Ren began, hoping to end the encounter.
This was Li Xiaochen’s first encounter with such an oddball.
To successfully poach someone, it was important to know their heart’s desire.
However, there was nothing but a calmness in Zheng Ren’s eyes at odds with his age, unperturbed and impermeable to honey-tongued promises.
Knowing he was no longer welcome, Li Xiaochen had no choice but to stand and show himself out after a few more customary farewells.
On the way down,stubbornness flared up inside him; everyone had their price.
The only difference was how high.
According to his phone, it was 4.00 p.m. He called up the headhunting firm to get all the details they had on Zheng Ren.
...
...
Halfway across the globe, it was 8.00 am in Germany.
Professor Rudolph Wagner woke naturally from his sleep and started his morning rituals. Once done, he checked his phone and was greeted with dozens of messages.
It was a good thing his phone had been on silent mode the night before as he did not like his sleep being disturbed. Ignoring the messages and headed downstairs for breakfast.
On his way down, he was greeted by another doctor who was also attending the Harlem Gunnar Awards Ceremony. “Good morning, Rudolph.”
“Morning, young August.”
August shot him an odd look. “Professor, have you received the midnight news?”
“News?” The professor remembered the messages on his phone.
Had something happened overnight?
“In the wee hours of the morning, a surgeon in China had a surgery livestream. He was conducting a prostate interventional embolization; the same procedure you performed in China a few days ago.”
Professor Rudolph Wagner smiled and said nothing.
“All I have to say is, those hands were blessed by God. It is not your fault for losing to someone like him.”
Losing? What?
Professor Wagner’s face fell and he quickly took his phone out to check his messages.
He was the best interventional embolization surgeon in the world. The hands of God? He had done everything humanly possible to treat that damned prostate.
His inbox was full of emails, the earliest being near midnight.
He opened one from the East Asian regional director of Biosensors International.
Huang Zhishan’s message came with a video attached and a single question, “Can you do better?”
He could not believe his eyes. His mind struggled to process the simple question.
How had someone outperformed his prostate interventional embolization surgery? Professor Rudolph Wagner still had full confidence in his own abilities.
He decided to have a look at the video during breakfast. This minor inconvenience was not going to disturb his routine.
As the video was downloading, he scrolled along his inbox. Most of the emails featured the video and some asked about the techniques used in the surgery.
Had the Chinese doctor outdone him?
Impossible...
As he sat at the breakfast table with his mind plagued by doubts, his phone suddenly rang.
The call was from Sweden: Professor Mehar from Stockholm.
Professor Mehar was a panelist for the Nobel Prize in Medicine and someone with whom Professor Rudolph had always maintained close contact with.
“Rudolph, I just received a live surgery recording from the east. The surgery is near-perfect.” Mehar was in his eighties, but his mind was still sharp. His voice was soft but firm.
Rudolph Wagner felt his body freeze.
“Have you seen the video?” Mehar asked.
“I have not, Professor,” Rudolph Wagner replied.
“Have a look at it when you’re free,” Mehar said. “Don’t get me wrong, Rudolph, your surgery was impressive. I saw a glimmer of hope in your procedure. But this one... if it weren’t for my assistant holding me back, I would have boarded the next flight to China.”
Rudolph Wagner could read between the lines. “Professor, I will fly to China and meet this surgeon. Please rest assured; I will find the best method out there.”
“Thank you, Rudolph,” Mehar said before hanging up.
Being a world-renowned expert in interventional surgery, Professor Rudolph Wagner could not imagine how any other surgeon could have outperformed him.
That damned prostate!
How was it possible?
Professor Rudolph Wagner had spent a long time researching and studying the anatomy and surgical procedures surrounding the prostate.
All of it was meant to address Professor Mehar’s long-standing prostate hyperplasia. It was happenstance that Biosensors International had approached him with an invitation to lead a demonstrative prostate interventional embolization surgery.
He had been happy to go to China to conduct it.
The operation had been flawless. Of this, he was certain.
There was nothing he could think of that could have been done better.
Curiosity clawed at Professor Rudolph Wagner’s mind; what had that Easterner done with that damn prostate to earn the nickname, “the hands of God”?
Once the video was ready, he eagerly began playback.