Guide to Rising to Power as a Wife in Beijing's Elite Circle

The Intensive Care Unit of Jingjing Military Region General Hospital. The corridors here are unusually wide, the floors are so shiny they reflect light, and the smell of disinfectant is mixed with a barely perceptible, solemn quiet that belongs to this special floor.

There was none of the noise of a regular ward. The occasional medical staff walking by had light steps and straight eyes, revealing a calmness that showed they were used to life and death and adhered to boundaries.

When Fang Jingxiu appeared at the entrance of the corridor, his dark blue administrative jacket became the most striking yet harmonious footnote to power.

The jacket is well-tailored, and the crisp fabric accentuates the broad shoulders and narrow waist. Every button fits perfectly.

This is the battle robe of authority, which should be in the conference room, on the research site, or on the desk piled with documents. But now it carries with it a lingering chill and dust, invading this territory that belongs to medicine and the fragility of life.

He walked quickly, but each step was firm and solid. The sound of his leather shoes hitting the floor tiles was mostly absorbed by the thick carpet, leaving only a sense of oppressive rhythm.

Secretary Qin, who was half a step behind him, also had a solemn expression and was holding a black cell phone that was on silent mode.

Outside the private intensive care unit, several people were already waiting. In addition to two security guards dressed in plain clothes but standing upright with sharp eyes, there was also the hospital's vice president in charge of medical affairs and the director of the intensive care unit.

The vice president, surnamed Zhou, was in his fifties and wore gold-rimmed glasses. He had already received some prior warnings.

As soon as Fang Jingxiu's figure came into view, Vice President Zhou immediately took two steps forward, his posture respectful yet composed, accurately maintaining the appropriate distance from this young director.

"Director Fang." Vice President Zhou's voice was low, carrying the professionalism of a doctor reporting a patient's condition, but also a clear understanding of the visitor's identity. "You've arrived."

Fang Jingxiu nodded slightly, his gaze already passing over him and landing on the tightly closed ward door with the observation window.

His jawline was taut, and his lips were pressed into a straight line. Through the glass, the figure on the hospital bed was a small, huddled mass, surrounded by various medical instruments and tubes, with barely any movement visible.

"The situation," Fang Jingxiu began, his voice hoarse, like rough sandpaper scraping across a wooden surface. The marks of a sleepless night and the heavy emotional burden were hard to conceal, but the undeniable authority in his tone instantly overshadowed the weariness.

Vice President Zhou glanced quickly at the director beside him, who stepped forward and spoke steadily and clearly: "Patient Chen Nuo, 22 years old, suffered a knife wound on the left side of his neck, damaging part of the platysma muscle and superficial blood vessels. Fortunately, the carotid artery, trachea, and important nerves were not damaged. Upon arrival at the hospital, he was already showing early symptoms of hemorrhagic shock due to excessive blood loss. We immediately organized a multidisciplinary consultation, and the best experts from our vascular surgery and maxillofacial surgery departments jointly performed debridement and suturing surgery. The surgery lasted three hours and twenty minutes and went smoothly. Currently, his vital signs have initially stabilized, but he is still in the critical observation period. Due to the large amount of blood loss and the body's weak compensatory ability, the time to awaken cannot be determined at this time."

The director paused, then added, "Pale complexion is a typical symptom of acute massive blood loss, and we are actively correcting it through blood transfusions and medication. The blood supply allocated by the General Hospital of the Military Region is sufficient, so please rest assured."

"The best experts," Fang Jingxiu repeated, his gaze still fixed on the ward, his voice low, "Were they brought in from Xishan?"

"Yes." Vice President Zhou nodded, confirming the self-evident resource allocation behind it. "Old Li made the call personally, and the two experts were sent directly from the expert group of the main hospital."

The name "Old Li" is written lightly, yet carries immense weight.

Those were former subordinates of Lieutenant General Fang Zhenguo, Fang Jingxiu's father, and now hold a prominent position within the military medical system.

Using this line means that Fang Jingxiu had skipped all the usual procedures and used the most core and reliable military medical resources the moment he received the news.

This was no ordinary greeting; it was a clear display of family power, silently proclaiming the unshakeable background behind this ordinary girl in the hospital bed.

Fang Jingxiu did not ask for further details.

He understood the rules; the other party's brief response contained all the necessary information and also drew a clear line: they were responsible for providing the best possible treatment but would not inquire about any story behind the injuries.

This is the tacit understanding within the privileged access channel.

"Can I go in and take a look?" He said this as a statement, not a question.

Vice President Zhou hesitated slightly. According to the strictest intensive care regulations, non-medical personnel should not enter at this time.

But when he met Fang Jingxiu's gaze, the deep darkness in his eyes and the unyielding determination made him make a choice instantly.

"Yes, but please try to keep the time within five minutes, and you need to change into a sterile isolation gown, as the patient's resistance is currently extremely low."

Fang Jingxiu nodded.

He meticulously completed the tedious procedures of changing clothes and disinfecting.

When I finally stepped into the ward alone, the rhythmic beeping of the medical equipment amplified instantly, becoming cold and tangible.

He walked to the bedside and stopped.

Chen Nuo lay there, his face as white as a wall, not the smooth white of jade, but a pale, almost transparent white that had lost all color, his lips so pale they almost blended into his skin.

Her thick black hair was covered by a surgical cap, which made her small face look pitifully sharp.

Her neck was wrapped in thick gauze, extending all the way to her jawline. Her eyes were closed, her eyelashes casting two deep shadows beneath her eyelids. She remained motionless, with only her chest rising and falling slightly with the rhythm of the ventilator.

Fang Jingxiu's hand, hanging by his side, clenched silently, his fingertips sinking into his palm.

His face was expressionless; even the slightly aloof seriousness he usually displayed while working had vanished, leaving only a rock-like silence.

But if you look closely, you can see the blood vessels near his temples pulsating very slightly.

He stared for a long time, so long that time seemed to stand still in this space filled with the smell of medicine and the sounds of instruments.

Then, extremely slowly, almost stiffly, he reached out. His fingers paused for a moment just before touching the back of her hand, which was also pale and cold and rested outside the thin blanket. In the end, he only used his fingertips to gently brush away a non-existent stray hair that had fallen on her forehead. It was just an illusory movement.

He didn't speak.

Any words at this moment seem insignificant and powerless, or even a disturbance.

He simply stood there, like a silent mountain, trying to shield her from the storms of the outside world with his invisible presence, even though she was completely unaware.

The five-minute time limit seemed to stretch out, yet also seemed to pass in the blink of an eye.