Time flew by, and soon it was Thursday.
Yan Feifan had completed the brain tumor aspiration and injection surgeries for the engineer and the Wall Street elite, one after the other. It was already almost one in the afternoon.
After a quick lunch in the hospital cafeteria, he went to the director’s office at the plastic surgery center. He found Mr. Wang sitting behind his desk, buried in paperwork.
Wang Chuan didn’t even look up as he said softly, "We’ve received feedback from Sunshine Film and Television and Shao Jun. They said the first cosmetic surgery plan you designed wasn’t masculine enough, and the second plan wasn’t cool enough."
Yan Feifan couldn’t help but frown.
Over the past few days, Yan Feifan had meticulously designed these two plans based on numerous factors: Shao Jun’s facial structure, features, muscle definition, and overall presence, as well as the client’s requests and surgical feasibility.
He considered the first plan, in particular, to be perfect and had expected the client to choose it immediately.
That was why he had rather casually rendered a simulation for the second plan on his computer, primarily as a foil to the first.
He never expected them to reject both.
"Mr. Wang, besides saying it’s not masculine enough and not cool enough, did they offer any other specific suggestions for improvement?"
Wang Chuan looked up at Yan Feifan and said, "They didn’t give any further suggestions for changes. They just asked you to provide a few more plans for them to compare and consider."
Hearing this, Yan Feifan flared up.
"Do they think this is like designing the interior of an empty apartment? That I can just casually whip up several creative designs?"
Wang Chuan tidied up the scattered documents and receipts on his desk and chuckled. "I guess the six-million-yuan price tag made that Mr. Sun feel the pinch, so he wants you to strive for perfection and deliver the absolute best."
Yan Feifan snorted. "Mr. Wang, please tell them that the first plan *is* the best plan I can offer."
"They can propose specific, minor revisions based on that plan."
"And tell them to stop using vague, subjective terms like ’not masculine enough’ or ’not cool enough’ that don’t mean anything."
After a pause, Yan Feifan added authoritatively, "If they can’t accept that, then forget it. They can find someone else."
Wang Chuan was taken aback for a moment, then he smiled. "Well, well. Your wings have certainly grown strong. Talking tough now, are we?"
Yan Feifan felt a little embarrassed and gave a sheepish laugh to cover it up.
"Mr. Wang, it’s not that I’m putting on airs. My other patients aren’t nearly this much trouble."
Wang Chuan chuckled softly. "I’m not saying you’re wrong."
"In fact, with the level of skill you’ve demonstrated in plastic surgery, you’ve earned the right to be selective."
He then said with a serious expression, "Besides, the sweltering summer heat isn’t the best season for plastic surgery anyway."
"We doctors should take a proper break and get some rest."
"How about this..."
Wang Chuan said thoughtfully, "I’ll relay your message to Sunshine Film and Television. The choice is theirs."
"Feifan, after you finish your currently scheduled surgeries, don’t take on any new plastic surgery cases for a while."
Yan Feifan asked, a bit confused, "Mr. Wang, is this a show for the hospital administration?"
Wang Chuan snorted. "They vote on such a major issue without any prior discussion, and we’re not even allowed to voice our opinion?"
After a pause, he added, "Besides, the height of summer is already a relatively slow season for the center’s plastic surgery cases..."
At this, Yan Feifan couldn’t help but point out, "Mr. Wang, haven’t you noticed?"
"Lately, there have been far more people in the lobby for consultations and appointments than usual."
Wang Chuan gave a soft laugh. "Of course I’ve noticed. The vast majority of them are students on summer break."
"They’re just using the holidays to get double eyelid surgery, scar revisions, or at most a minor nose job. None of those are major operations, so it’s a good chance for the younger doctors to get some practice."
Wang Chuan smiled at Yan Feifan again. "Feifan, I thought about it carefully last night. Your skills are now unparalleled and proven in the industry. It’s time for you to go for the high-end, exclusive route."
"The high-end, exclusive route?" Yan Feifan repeated.
Wang Chuan smiled faintly. "It means acting like a master plastic surgeon. Being aloof and indifferent to the people who come begging for your services."
"’I don’t like the look of you,’ or ’I’m not in the mood.’ No matter how big a check you write, I wouldn’t deign to take your case."
"Of course, the surgeries you *do* accept won’t be cheap, either."
Wang Chuan said with great seriousness, "Put yourself on a pedestal, create scarcity, and establish a brand for yourself where any procedure you perform is considered a priceless masterpiece."
Hearing this, Yan Feifan finally understood.
’So the idea is to build me up as the Rolls-Royce of the plastic surgery world. To make surgery by my hand a symbol of luxury and status.’
This idea...
Yan Feifan liked it a lot.
’Fewer surgeries, but still a lot of money.’
"Mr. Wang, will that really work?"
Wang Chuan replied with confidence, "It definitely will."
"First, you have the absolute skill to back it up."
"Second, you’ve said yourself that your true ambition isn’t in cosmetic medicine."