Yan Feifan grunted in acknowledgment and said casually, "Get her admitted, run the pre-op checks this afternoon, and schedule the surgery for tonight."
Xv Shuang said timidly, "Mr. Yan, there’s a small problem. I just contacted the inpatient ward, and they said there are no beds available."
Yan Feifan was taken aback. "Aren’t we doing fewer major surgeries at the moment? How could there be no beds?"
Xv Shuang stammered, "Mr. Yan, by convention, the beds in our center are allocated to each doctor."
"You’ve actually been using the Director’s allocation of beds."
"Between the Director’s patients, your patients, Mr. Yan, the research volunteers, and the patients of the Director’s students, we’re suddenly over capacity by several beds."
"And on top of that, other departments have borrowed some of our beds over the past few days, so space is extremely tight."
Yan Feifan’s brow furrowed.
He knew that beds at the Affiliated Hospital were always in short supply. Some patients had their admissions delayed indefinitely simply because no beds were available.
Yan Feifan himself, however, had never had to worry about finding a bed for a patient.
In the past, whenever he wanted to admit a patient, he just had to say the word, and all the follow-up arrangements were handled for him. He never had to worry about it.
’Does the center really have no beds?’
’Or is this a lingering consequence of the salary incident? Is someone trying to make things difficult for me?’
Yan Feifan pushed the thought aside and asked, "What about the other luxury suite on the top floor? Is that occupied too?"
Xv Shuang nodded. "Dr. Qiu Ming reserved it. His patient also has surgery tonight."
Yan Feifan thought for a moment, then said, "Have the inpatient ward process the discharge papers for Cui Bo in Room 5 on the eighth floor."
"His condition is stable enough that he can recover at home."
He added, "And tell him to come back next Friday for a follow-up to check for any tendon adhesion."
Xv Shuang gave a quick nod and, seeing that Yan Feifan had no other instructions, hurried away to get it done...
Yan Feifan returned to the empty director’s office. He had been there for less than ten minutes when he heard a KNOCK KNOCK at the door.
He pulled open the door to find five people standing outside.
Two of them had particularly distinctive appearances. One, who looked like a skinny monkey, was none other than Zhang Maoye, whom he had met that night at Sunshine Film and Television.
The other man’s facial features were all scrunched together, so much so that a child’s hand could have covered them all.
However, Yan Feifan’s gaze was completely captured by a refined-looking, middle-aged man among them.
The man appeared to be in his fifties. Just by standing there, he exuded an overwhelming aura of scholarly elegance.
"You’re... you’re that..."
The name of a famous movie star was on the tip of Yan Feifan’s tongue, but seeing him in the flesh, he suddenly hesitated to be sure.
The man gave a faint smile and said, "Mr. Yan, I’m Shen Daoran. I hope you’ll forgive the intrusion..."