Top-tier doctoral supervisor, reborn as a first-year graduate student in standardized residency trai

Gu Lin silently lowered his head and subconsciously touched his face.

What makes him look "well-behaved"?

"Xiao Gu."

"……Um?"

Why are your ears a little red?

Gu Lin paused for two seconds before answering in a serious tone.

"It's hot."

The senior student subconsciously looked up at the air conditioner; it was 22 degrees Celsius.

He remained silent for a few seconds, but ultimately decided to save face for the child and did not expose him further.

Just then, the door to the duty room was suddenly pushed open again.

Upon seeing the newcomer, the previously relaxed atmosphere instantly tensed up.

Gu Lin looked up, and the next second, he stood up as if by reflex.

"Teacher Zhou."

The person who came in was Zhou Wenyuan.

The chief physician of the emergency department is also Gu Lin's current mentor.

He had clearly just come out of the operating room; he hadn't had time to change out of his white coat, and there were even traces of disinfectant on his cuffs. His eyes showed obvious fatigue from staying up all night.

Even so, the sense of oppression emanating from him remained very strong.

Upon seeing him, the senior student next to him stopped smiling and quickly adopted a very obedient demeanor.

"Teacher Zhou."

Zhou Wenyuan nodded, but his gaze fell directly on Gu Lin.

"I heard you were quite busy last night."

Gu Lin paused slightly, and for some reason, he suddenly had a sense of déjà vu, as if he had been called to the office by his supervisor during his residency training.

The senior student next to him had already stood up, showing a strong will to survive.

"Teacher Zhou, I'm going to hand over the shift now."

After saying that, he slipped away without looking back.

The duty room was suddenly empty except for the two of them, and the air became somewhat silent.

Gu Lin stood there, holding half a half-eaten bun in his hand, looking inexplicably at a loss.

Zhou Wenyuan pulled out a chair and sat down, his wise gaze fixed on him with a hint of inquiry.

"I heard that you were the one who first suspected the patient with the aortic dissection?"

Gu Lin remained silent for two seconds.

"Hmm... just a guess."

Zhou Wenyuan continued to ask:

Why guess about the mezzanine?

Gu Lin lowered his head and thought for a while, as if he was reorganizing his thoughts from that time.

"At first, I felt that the nature of the pain was not quite right."

"He said it felt like it was splitting open, and his back also hurt."

"Later I noticed that there was a significant difference in blood pressure between my left and right upper limbs."

"Then, the patient's blood pressure suddenly dropped. I checked the pulse again and found that the left dorsalis pedis artery was weaker than the right one."

He spoke very logically, but the more logical he was, the more you could tell that he wasn't just "reciting answers," but was genuinely recalling his clinical judgments bit by bit.

Zhou Wenyuan did not interrupt, but listened quietly until Gu Lin finished speaking, after which the duty room fell into a brief silence again.

A few seconds later, Zhou Wenyuan suddenly spoke.

"Who taught you these things?"

Gu Lin paused slightly, thought for two seconds, and then spoke.

"I learned it from books."

"Books won't teach you how to immediately think of aortic dissection in the emergency room."

Zhou Wenyuan spoke calmly, but with just one sentence, he immediately got to the heart of the matter.

Gu Lin suddenly didn't know how to respond, because real clinical experience and book knowledge are never the same thing.

Some things only become an almost instinctive intuition after witnessing too much life and death.

The duty room was quiet for a long time. Suddenly, Zhou Wenyuan reached out and picked up the case analysis on the table. It was a medical record that Gu Lin had written in the early hours of the morning, originally intended to be submitted to Director Chen of the interventional department.

But after Zhou Wenyuan flipped through two pages, he slowly stopped, because the content was just too detailed.

From the initial suspicion of pelvic bleeding, to the gradual exclusion of active intra-abdominal bleeding, and the criteria for early diagnosis of DIC, the entire logic is astonishingly complete.

They even analyzed separately why "a conclusion wasn't drawn immediately at the time".

He doesn't resemble a resident physician, or even a regular resident; he's more like a clinician who has been independently leading a team for many years.

Zhou Wenyuan turned the pages more and more slowly, while Gu Lin, standing beside him, felt his heart tighten little by little.

Because he suddenly realized that when he was writing the medical record, he had subconsciously used a habit from his previous life.

Clinical reasoning can be hidden, but words cannot.

Just then, Zhou Wenyuan suddenly raised his head.

"Gu Lin".

"exist."

"You used to be."

He paused for a moment, his gaze falling on Gu Lin.

"Is it deliberately being kept too secret?"

Gu Lin paused slightly in his breathing. The duty room was very quiet, so quiet that only his and Zhou Wenyuan's heartbeats could be heard, which gave him a feeling that he was being seen through.

Of course, Zhou Wenyuan couldn't possibly know anything, but the question "Isn't it hidden too deeply?" still made Gu Lin's back tense up for a moment.

He was silent for a few seconds before finally speaking in a low voice:

"no."

The voice was very soft, and even a little hoarse from fatigue.

Zhou Wenyuan stared at him for a while, clearly not quite believing him.

Because what Gu Lin showed last night was beyond what could be explained by being an "outstanding resident trainee".

His clinical judgment, observation of details, case analysis, and even his ability to remain calm in a chaotic rescue scene are all too mature, too mature for a first-year graduate student.

But Gu Lin was standing there, his white coat was wrinkled, his hair was messy from staying up all night, and he was even holding half a half-eaten bun in his hand. He looked like an ordinary student no matter how you looked at him.

Zhou Wenyuan remained silent for a moment, then finally put the medical record back on the table.

"The case analysis is well written."

Gu Lin was taken aback, clearly not expecting to be praised so suddenly.

"...Thank you, teacher."

He said it very sincerely, and he even seemed a little surprised that he hadn't expected to be praised.

Looking at his expression, Zhou Wenyuan suddenly wondered if he was overthinking things.

After all, if someone were truly someone who was overly ambitious and charismatic, they wouldn't have such a low profile in the department. Thinking of this, he rubbed his temples.

"However, there's something I need to remind you of."

Gu Lin nodded obediently.

"Please speak."

"In the future, if you discover a problem in the emergency room, you can raise it, but you should pay attention to how you do it."

Zhou Wenyuan spoke calmly.

"Clinical practice is not an exam. Often, you not only have to consider whether your judgment is correct, but also the current pace of the entire team."

Gu Lin listened quietly without interrupting, because he knew very well that Zhou Wenyuan was right. What the emergency room feared most was never differing opinions, but rather that in times of chaos, everyone would start to hold their own opinions.

When he led a team in his past life, he understood this better than anyone else, so last night he was actually very restrained.

Before each time he spoke, he would repeatedly confirm his words, and even try to be as tactful as possible in his wording.

Thinking of this, Gu Lin nodded slightly.

"I understand, teacher."

Zhou Wenyuan hummed in agreement, then looked down and flipped through the medical record again. The more he flipped through it, the more his brows furrowed.