NOVEL NEXT Chapter 9: Sky-High Standards
Monday, 11:47 AM.
At the entrance to the orthopedics outpatient clinic of Hengda First Affiliated Hospital, Zhou Yanqing, dressed in a short-sleeved white coat with black, dark green, and red pens clipped to his left chest pocket, pushed open the consultation room door. He peeked left and right before stepping back inside.
"Master, there are no new or returning patients outside," he reported.
"The current batch is still undergoing tests. Their results probably won't be ready until the afternoon," he added.
Gong Yicheng, standing with his legs in a wide stance and hands clasped behind his head, shuffled forward to the edge of a yellow-lacquered wooden chair. His small eyes shut as he bent his chin downward sharply, twisting his shrimp-like body left and right for a stretch. Tilting his head to the right and then straightening up, he replied, "Let's wait a bit longer. Clock out at noon sharp."
As he spoke, he gestured toward his water cup.
Zhou Yanqing understood immediately, grabbing the thermos and heading to the drinking fountain. Smiling, he turned back and asked, "Master, last time you mentioned looking into the special admissions pathway for the hand surgery program at Xiangya Hospital. Did you find anything? Are the standards really that high?"
For someone like Zhou Yanqing, whose publication record was sparse, the standard doctoral application process was a pipe dream.
A single SCI paper in the third quartile and a meta-analysis article wouldn't suffice for doctoral admission—not even in his wildest dreams.
Gong Yi's face, marked by the ravages of time, twitched. His lips moved several times, as though to speak, but stopped. Finally, he sighed softly, his gaze resting on Zhou Yanqing's bright, determined eyes.
"Do you really want to hear it?" he asked.
At the drinking fountain, Zhou Yanqing switched the thermos to the room-temperature spout. He nodded solemnly, his expression resolute, clearly bracing himself for shocking or even terrifying news.
Gong Yi nodded in return, his tone deliberate. "Zhu Qin, from the same cohort, was unremarkable—barely meeting the lower-middle standard for graduating with a doctorate from Xiangya Hospital."
Zhou Yanqing's face slowly fell, his expression twitching in dismay.
But he had anticipated this. A doctoral graduate from Xiangya Hospital who didn't secure a position at a top-tier tertiary hospital—or even provincial hospitals in Shashi—ending up at Hengda First Affiliated Hospital spoke volumes.
"Zhu Qin was admitted to the doctoral program through the 'Shao Gan' plan. You don't need to concern yourself with what that entails."
"The specialized pathway for doctoral admissions at Xiangya Hospital demands standards far beyond Zhu Qin's current capabilities."
"Take suturing, for example. Hand surgery requires mastery of suturing with vascular clamps, equivalent to the level needed for tendon suturing in surgeries."
"For incision techniques, you must cut tofu into thin, irregularly shaped slices of consistent thickness. And then there's hemostasis, tendon suturing, debridement, and more—each with exceptionally high standards. Let me explain them in detail..."
As Zhou Yanqing walked back with the filled thermos, his legs began trembling uncontrollably. He forced himself to stay composed, maintaining an outward calm despite the storm raging inside him.
Tendon suturing was a skill that even Li Zhong, an attending physician in their department, was striving to master. Yet at Xiangya Hospital, it was merely an entry-level requirement for their specialized doctoral admissions.
Li Zhong had earned his master's degree from Sun Yat-sen University's First Affiliated Hospital five years ago. Back then, Hengda First Affiliated Hospital's hiring standards weren't as stringent—they didn't exclusively hire PhDs.
Now, five years later...
"Master, with standards set so high, can anyone even make it through?" Zhou Yanqing asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Gong Yi raised his voice. "Yanqing, do you think these standards are meant to make it easy for people to pass? Do you think doctoral supervisors are technicians you can replace at will if you're dissatisfied?"
"Not every institution authorized to offer professional doctorates is also authorized to offer clinical medical doctorates—let alone hand surgery doctorates."
"Options for pursuing a doctorate are extremely limited. Not every teaching hospital qualifies to train hand surgery doctoral candidates," Gong Yi said gravely.
Zhou Yanqing could only stare at his teacher, wide-eyed, their gazes locked—youthful vigor meeting seasoned wisdom.
After about thirty seconds, Gong Yi broke the silence. "Becoming a doctoral supervisor isn't easy. In our hospital's orthopedics department, only Director Chen from the Joint Surgery Division holds that title."
"So, Xiao Zhou, having the freedom to choose your doctoral supervisor isn't easy."
"And conventional doctoral admissions require a significant number of publications... Honestly, I don't even know how to advise you on this."
"If my research projects weren't provincial-level, with more funding, you might have had the opportunity to publish more papers," Gong Yi added, his tone laced with self-reproach.
Taking a deep breath, Zhou Yanqing set the thermos down gently. "It's alright, Master. Xiangya Hospital isn't like Peking Union or Kyoto University's affiliated hospitals. Their doctoral admissions start in January, with assessments held in March or April—still seven to eight months away."
"I'll take my time reviewing announcements and looking for hand surgery doctoral supervisors."
The structure of the medical field was well-defined, with a clear hierarchy.
For an ordinary master's graduate from a modest background, the path upward was exceedingly narrow...
"It'll have to do for now—taking it step by step," Gong Yi sighed.
"For now, you need to juggle graduation, work, and doctoral studies simultaneously. With your current publications and projects, graduation won't be an issue. Your thesis can be based on your published SCI paper."
"As for work, I suggest securing a fallback position. If you can't pursue a doctorate, you'll need a safety net. If Heng City doesn't work out, consider a transitional position at Leishi People's Hospital or Hengda Affiliated Hospital in Hengshan County."
"Or try applying to the city's central hospital. There's no rule against pursuing a doctorate after receiving a job offer. Even if you've signed a contract, hospitals can't prevent you from leaving for further studies," Gong Yi advised carefully.
"Understood, Master," Zhou Yanqing replied calmly.
Gong Yi glanced at his watch. "It's noon—time to clock out. I'm heading home for lunch. Take care of yourself."
Zhou Yanqing nodded. "Understood, Master. I'll tidy up the clinic, shut down the computer, and head to lunch. I'll be back by 2 PM to help with the afternoon consultations."
After Gong Yi left, Zhou Yanqing slowly began tidying the cluttered clinic desk: tossing scrap paper, organizing unclaimed patient records for disposal after a week, and stacking registration slips—his teacher's hard-earned fees—for safekeeping.
But his unsettled emotions found no outlet, as if there were no "emotional trash bin" to discard them into.