Overpowered Resident Doctor

At a little past 9:20 p.m., thunderous applause suddenly erupted in the main auditorium of Binhai University Medical College.

Seated in the front row, the vice dean of the Medical College rose to his feet, clapping along with the nearly eighteen hundred freshmen and counselors in the auditorium. Together, they expressed their gratitude to Yan Feifan on the stage.

After an hour-and-a-half speech, followed by nearly fifty minutes of interactive Q&A, the evening’s presentation finally came to a close.

The vice dean watched Yan Feifan bow on stage and couldn’t help but sigh in admiration. ’He truly lives up to his reputation. It’s well-deserved!’

Although Yan Feifan had come across as somewhat quiet and socially awkward in the backstage lounge, his performance on stage had been quite good—in fact, it had surpassed the vice dean’s expectations.

Frankly, Yan Feifan’s speech wasn’t particularly lively or humorous, nor was it delivered with a dynamic cadence. Its strength, however, lay in its detailed content, rigorous logic, and how it was packed with solid information, fully showcasing the depth and breadth of the young man’s knowledge and intellect.

With a little editing, it could have been a high-quality review paper on trends in medical development and cutting-edge research.

Even the vice dean felt he had learned a great deal and was deeply inspired. The more than two hours had been well worth it...

After posing for photos with a dozen or so incredibly enthusiastic freshmen, Yan Feifan politely declined the offer from the vice dean and the Youth League secretary to see him off. He then headed back to Zuimo Court with Duan Yu.

Zuimo Court was just across the street from Binhai University, but getting there from the Medical College required crossing most of the campus.

Accompanied by Duan Yu, Yan Feifan strolled through the beautiful, lamplit campus. Every now and then, they would see students—some in couples, others in small groups, some laughing and chatting, others walking with hurried steps.

He couldn’t help but be reminded of his own student days on this campus.

Back then, he had been so busy with his studies, shuttling between the library, classrooms, labs, the cafeteria, and his dorm. It felt as if he had barely enjoyed college life at all before it was suddenly over and he had graduated.

Lost in nostalgic thoughts, Yan Feifan walked at his usual pace across the campus, crossed the street, and entered the Zuimo Court District.

As he entered the lobby of Building 9, Unit 1, he saw a man in his forties with a prominent potbelly and an amiable face smiling warmly at him.

Yan Feifan had seen this man once before.

On that dark and rainy night, he had been flown by helicopter to the Marine Police General Hospital to perform a cranial drainage procedure on a foreign man.

It was this same middle-aged man who had instructed him to keep the matter confidential and to claim he was treating someone injured in a car accident.

Yan Feifan’s memory of such an intense night was naturally crystal clear.

Duan Yu saw the man but said nothing. She simply gave him a nod of acknowledgment before walking over to the elevator and pressing the ’up’ button.

The man with the potbelly gestured toward the nearby staircase and said softly, "Mr. Yan, would you mind taking the stairs with me?"

Yan Feifan saw that Duan Yu was already in the elevator and its doors were slowly closing. He had no choice but to turn and follow the man with the potbelly into the stairwell.

The moment the door closed behind them, before Yan Feifan had even set foot on the first step, he said urgently, "I don’t care who you are or what you do, but I must tell you: I am a doctor."

"A doctor’s duty is to save lives and heal the wounded."

"I won’t do anything else. I won’t do it under threat, for personal gain, or by coercion."

The man with the potbelly smiled faintly. "Mr. Yan, you’ve misunderstood."

"I didn’t come here to ask you to do anything dangerous. I just came to talk and put your mind at ease."

"After all, when a patient you treated suddenly transforms from a businessman into a high-ranking admiral in the United States Navy, it’s natural for you to feel a bit unsettled."

Yan Feifan’s silence served as an admission.

The portly man started slowly up the stairs. "Mr. Yan, are you thinking about refusing this patient and not going to the United States?"

Instead of answering, Yan Feifan countered, "Are you sure you won’t assign me some kind of mission? Ask me to sabotage something?"

The portly man paused on the stairs and turned to look at Yan Feifan, a smile playing on his lips. "Intentionally cause a surgical ’accident’ to leave him mentally impaired? Or perhaps eliminate him entirely?"

He shook his head. "The United States has a complete and mature military command structure. If he dies, someone else will immediately take his place. It would be pointless."

"Besides, according to our intelligence, this man is a pragmatist, and his stance toward our country is relatively objective."

The portly man chuckled at Yan Feifan. "Mr. Yan, to be frank, we did have an emergency discussion about this..."

"...about whether to use this opportunity to have you implant a custom-made miniature listening device in him."

Seeing the color drain from Yan Feifan’s face, the portly man quickly added, "Mr. Yan, don’t be alarmed. That proposal was rejected."

"Your every move would be under their strict surveillance. You’d never have the opportunity to act."

"More importantly, you are a doctor with superb medical skills, capable of saving lives where others can’t. That’s precisely why the Americans went to such great lengths to invite you."

The portly man said emphatically, "Mr. Yan, your value is comparable to that of a national treasure. How could we possibly ask you to do something so dangerous?"

"Work like that is our job to handle."

Yan Feifan felt a wave of relief at his words.

He asked tentatively, "So you’re saying you want me to accept this patient and go to the United States to perform the surgery?"

The portly man grunted in agreement. "Our recommendation is that you accept the invitation. Act as if you don’t know his true identity and continue to treat him as the same farm-owning businessman."

He chuckled. "Besides, you can think of it as a friendly exchange and cooperation between China and the U.S."

"After you treat him, his impression of our country will surely improve, at least to some extent."

After a moment of silence, Yan Feifan asked worriedly, "Is there a chance the Americans might find some excuse to detain me in the United States and not let me return?"

The portly man said thoughtfully, "It’s highly unlikely. After all, you’re just a doctor. There’s no reason for the United States to take such a risk."

"This way, they can use similar methods in the future to have you treat other important and sensitive individuals."

He chuckled. "Mr. Yan, don’t you worry."

"If they really dared to do something like that, we would retaliate in kind. And if our two sides start going tit-for-tat, we won’t be far from World War III."

The portly man added confidently, "Even if some hothead over there does get a crazy idea to detain you, we are confident we can get you back home safely."

"Our only concern is..."

"Concerned about what?" Yan Feifan asked curiously.

"Honeyed words and sweet temptations."

The portly man said slowly, "They will certainly have some medical institution make you a lucrative offer—a high salary, excellent benefits—to persuade you to stay in the United States of your own accord."

"I won’t be tempted."

Yan Feifan patted his chest and declared, "I was born in China, I grew up in China. I’ll live a son of China, and I’ll die a ghost of China!"

The portly man chuckled. "We trust you. That’s why we won’t stop you from going to the United States."

After a pause, he spoke again. "0921861."

Yan Feifan froze for a second, then asked, puzzled, "Those are the 411th to the 417th digits of Pi. What do they signify?"

The portly man smiled. "Mr. Yan, your memory is truly second to none. You knew the origin of those numbers the moment you heard them."

"It’s a code."

He explained, "If someone says this string of numbers to you, it means they’re one of us."

"It also means that you are in danger."

"Please, trust them. They will get you to safety."

Yan Feifan gave a firm nod to show that he understood.

As they spoke, the two of them reached the seventh floor.

The portly man pushed open the stairwell door for Yan Feifan, revealing Duan Yu waiting outside.

"Mr. Yan, from now on, if you need anything, just tell Duan Yu."

He then added a reminder, "Take Duan Yu with you on this trip to the United States. Her background is rather special, and the Americans are certainly aware of it."

"It will also serve to let them know just how highly we value you..."

P.S.

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