At six in the evening, the welcome dinner for Shu Lei officially began.
Amid the clinking of glasses, Shu Lei announced that during his adjustment period from life at sea to life on land, he would help out at Xinfeng Restaurant while figuring out his plans for the future.
As for how his future would unfold, that would depend on how much of his swindled money the government could recover after the case was settled.
The Yan siblings were in agreement: they told their uncle not to overthink things or stir up trouble, but just to find a stable job and live a steady life.
Mrs. Xia strongly agreed with this sentiment.
After the family dinner, Yan Feifan stayed in the living room, scrolling through a patient’s medical records in his email while listening to the others chat idly.
"Another brain tumor?" Yu Suye asked, leaning in to get a closer look.
"A blood clot."
Yan Feifan zoomed in on the MRI scan on his phone screen, pointed to an irregular spot, and said, "This blood clot is restricting blood flow, causing the patient to have motor aphasia."
"A traditional craniotomy would cause too much postoperative damage."
"I’m going to see if I can use a Puncture Needle to break up this clot and inject some medication to accelerate its dissolution."
Yu Suye said, "Oh," and asked, "Is it very difficult?"
Yan Feifan said thoughtfully, "I haven’t found a puncture path with relatively minimal damage yet."
"Also, the hardness of the clot is unknown."
"Applying external force could cause it to shift, leading to unpredictable consequences."
"The conservative approach is to slowly guide the Puncture Needle close to it, inject a dissolving agent, and let it dissolve gradually."
"But in that case, the Puncture Needle would need to be left inside the brain for some time, at least two or three days."
Just then, Yan Feifan’s phone rang.
It was a call from Mr. Liang Zhao Kui, the director of cardiothoracic surgery at the hospital.
Yan Feifan went into the bedroom to answer the call.
"Mr. Yan, regarding that one-year promise, when are you planning to come over to my department for further study and training?"
Yan Feifan considered this for a moment and said, "Mr. Liang, it will have to be late August or early September. I can’t free up any time before then."
A soft chuckle came from the phone. "As long as I know you have a plan, I’m relieved."
"Mr. Yan, like I said before, the doors to the cardiothoracic surgery department are always open for you."
"Thank you, Director..."
After ending the call with Mr. Liang, Yan Feifan left the bedroom to find his sister and uncle arguing, neither willing to back down.
He listened for a moment and realized they were arguing about what kind of car to buy.
Yan Ziruo’s opinion was that a modest car for getting around, costing three or four hundred thousand yuan, would be sufficient.
Shu Lei, however, insisted that if they were going to buy a car, they should buy a good one, something around a million yuan, or not buy one at all.
When Yan Feifan heard his uncle say this, he knew the man had high expectations for the money he’d get back from that case.
Yan Feifan felt a pang of frustration.
’As for this unexpected windfall, should I hope for it to be bigger, or smaller?’