National Doctor: When You Perfect a Skill

Time flowed like water, and half a month passed in the blink of an eye. By the time Zhou Yanqing arrived back in Heng City via a hard-seat train from Beijing, it was already 9 PM on September 15.

Jishuitan Hospital, affiliated with Peking University, held its doctoral application assessments earlier than other institutions such as West China Hospital, Huashan Hospital, and Shanghai Sixth People's Hospital.

At the bustling Heng City train station, junior Fan Ziwei stood at the exit with a new recruit, Han Dongliang, tiptoeing to spot the incoming crowd.

Heng City was a major station, and the stream of disembarking passengers seemed endless. Eventually, Fan waved excitedly at a young man in a checkered shirt with a bright, upright posture. "Senior Zhou! Over here!"

Han Dongliang ran over, eager to help with Zhou's small blue suitcase. "Senior Zhou!" he called, grabbing the handle.

Zhou handed over the suitcase with a smile. "Didn't I tell you not to come? I've been in Heng City for years—I know my way around."

Han, a petite and freckled first-year professional master's student, looked small compared to Zhou and Fan. He replied with enthusiasm, "Senior Fan said we should welcome you with a hotpot dinner. It's to celebrate your return!"

Thirty minutes later, the three were seated at a hotpot restaurant near the hospital. Zhou, who hadn't had dinner, joined Fan and Han in ordering with empty stomachs.

For master's students, there wasn't much to look forward to in terms of entertainment. Even a simple meal together, or shared dorm-room snacks, could bring joy that lasted for days.

As they waited for their food, Fan asked the question that had been on their minds: "How did the interview go?"

Han's eyes sparkled with curiosity. For Hengda University master's students, applying to a top-tier institution like Jishuitan was a bold move, if not outright audacious.

Zhou smiled wryly. "With just one third-tier SCI paper and a meta-analysis, going to Jishuitan? What do you think the outcome would be?"

He sighed. "I was just there to go through the motions and watch the real stars in action. One word: impressive."

Zhou described the scene: "There were candidates with over 20 publications, others with high-impact-factor SCI papers above 15, and even some with cumulative SCI publications exceeding 80. Some passed through specialized professional pathways, while others excelled in both professional and research tracks."

The more Zhou explained, the more dazed Fan and Han became. When he mentioned dual-track candidates, their minds were blown.

"Normal people struggle to excel in one track," Fan gasped, "and there are people who can conquer both? Isn't Jishuitan's specialized track even harder than Huashan Hospital's?"

Fan referred to a top-tier graduate, Duan Qilin, who had recently joined their department after passing Huashan's rigorous professional pathway. His presence had elevated the department's prestige, with Duan hailed as a rare talent.

Zhou chuckled. "Rare doesn't mean nonexistent. Top-tier institutions cherry-pick the best, leaving others with fewer options."

"Jishuitan's orthopedics department is unmatched," Zhou continued. "Even Peking Union Medical College can't outshine it. Backed by Peking University and Tsinghua University, these schools excel at talent poaching. That's why, every year, they manage to attract one or two prodigies."

Fan tried to comfort Zhou. "Senior, Jishuitan is notoriously difficult. It's okay—Xiangya Hospital is still a great option!"

"Sure, they've had some controversies recently, but their teaching and professional capabilities are still solid. Their doctoral applications don't start until March next year. Duan Qilin said you're not far from meeting Xiangya's standards for the professional pathway."

Zhou nodded, opening a can of beer. "Yes, Xiangya is a great place for people like us. Jishuitan was just a learning experience. After seeing it, I'm ready to return to the ordinary and focus on being my best self."

He raised his can. "Cheers!"

Zhou had no regrets. Jishuitan's standards hadn't changed—they sought candidates who excelled in both clinical and research realms. Zhou, with his modest background and lack of research opportunities during undergrad, simply didn't meet their bar. His failure wasn't personal; it was systemic.

Still, this second visit brought closure to his lingering regret. He no longer felt frustration or resentment, only a calm acceptance.

Reflecting on his juniors and colleagues, Zhou thought of the Huashan graduate, Duan Qilin, who had chosen to work at Hengda's affiliated hospital. A line from a song came to mind:

"You and I are ordinary people living in this world."

"Rushing about all day with no time to rest."

This return to Heng City wasn't a defeat but a completion of his youthful aspirations. Zhou had seen the peak, and though he hadn't reached it, he now understood his place.

Doctoral applications weren't like master's exams—a one-shot deal. Top-tier institutions like Jishuitan didn't admit transfer students as a rule, but Zhou could aim for other opportunities: Huashan, West China, Zhongshan, Shanghai Jiao Tong, or Central South University. There was always another path ahead.