This Doctor Is Too Wealthy

Du Heng’s impression of Lu Zhongjiang was still that from five months ago.

Thin, with a tall, straight back, he always had a slicked-back haircut, the hair wax making his hair shine brightly; an always-smiling and very energetic little old man.

But the man standing before Du Heng now could not be connected in any way with the image he had of Lu Zhongjiang, the Secretary Lu who had helped him grow.

His body was gaunt, and it was obvious he was malnourished. His hair had lost all luster, each strand looking as if it had been scorched—dry, yellow, and split—a complete contrast to the glossy, slicked-back hair he used to have.

Especially his complexion: it was so sallow that at a glance, one might think he was suffering a bout of jaundice. His skin was dull with no signs of vitality, and his lips were a blue-black color.

Even as he stood face to face with Du Heng, the old comrade was visibly summoning all his strength to stand steady, trying his utmost to keep his legs from trembling.

However, Du Heng was right in front of him. The slight shake of his trouser leg and his tightly clasped hands spoke volumes: Lu Zhongjiang was struggling to maintain his final shred of dignity.

Du Heng’s heart clenched painfully. For a moment, his lips trembled, but he couldn’t utter any unnecessary words, only managing to ask, ”Secretary Lu, what happened to you?”

At the sound of Du Heng’s voice, Lu Zhongjiang smiled—a heartfelt, sincere smile. He grasped Du Heng’s hand and squeezed it gently. ”President Du, welcome home.”

Du Heng’s heart shuddered.

For him, Lu Zhongjiang wasn’t just a secretary he worked with; he was the mentor who had guided him out of the ”novice village.” Without Lu Zhongjiang, what kind of dean Du Heng would have become was entirely unknown.

In other words, without Lu Zhongjiang, Du Heng could have been a good doctor, but it would have been impossible for him to secure the position of dean as he had now, and to manage the Municipal Maternal and Child Health Hospital so well.

Because just a year ago, he was an idiot when it came to management.

”Secretary Lu, if you’re not feeling well, you shouldn’t have come out. Given our relationship, there’s no need for such formality.” Du Heng reached out and grasped Lu Zhongjiang’s arm, seemingly reluctant to let go out of affection, but actually lending support. ”Come on, let’s go inside, sit down, and rest.”

His voice was filled with an unyielding determination. As for the Municipal Maternal and Child Health Hospital leaders who had accompanied them, he didn’t bother with introductions.

Yu Haiting hurriedly took two steps forward and whispered to Du Heng, ”Secretary Lu was originally hospitalized in the Provincial Oncology Hospital. When he heard you were coming today and that the Health Clinic was to be inaugurated, he insisted on coming. Nothing could dissuade him; he absolutely had to be here in person.”

”Provincial Oncology Hospital?” Du Heng’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. Supporting Lu Zhongjiang’s arm, they slowly walked inside together. ”Secretary Lu, how could you not tell me about something this significant?

”And everything was fine before, so how did it suddenly turn out like this? What on earth happened?”

Lu Zhongjiang chuckled lightly and, with a relaxed expression, replied, ”Ah, I used to sit in the office for long periods and had hemorrhoids. Whenever I felt uncomfortable, I just assumed it was the hemorrhoids. Besides, I never noticed anything unusual—no pain, no itching—so I never thought anything else of it.

”On June 1st, I went out for a Hunan cuisine meal with my grandson, and suddenly, I couldn’t get up. It caught me off guard too.”

”What was the check-up result?”

”Colorectal cancer.”

Du Heng’s brow furrowed even more, and he hurriedly asked, ”How are you being treated?”

Still maintaining a relaxed tone, Lu Zhongjiang said, ”It had already ruptured. They said it was an ulcerative type, that it needed to be excised, and that it would require a neostomy.

”I asked the doctor. They said that with surgery, I could live for another two or three years, maybe even three to five. Without it, perhaps only half a year. After thinking it over, I refused.”

”Secretary Lu, I don’t understand what you mean. Are you saying you’ve given up treatment?”

”Yes, I’ve given up.” Lu Zhongjiang laughed lightly. ”You always used to say, didn’t you, that the purpose of medicine is to help people live healthily and with dignity? Not to use extreme measures to give people more meaningless, undignified, low-quality time just to breathe.

”I, on the other hand, used to say your idea was wrong; after all, being alive is more important than anything.

”But when it actually happened to me, I suddenly understood what you meant.

”If I had the surgery, I might get an extra year or so of breathing time, but I’d have to wear a colostomy bag every day, wouldn’t be able to eat or drink properly, and would have to endure constant pain. Never mind wasting the children’s money; making my old partner and children watch me suffer and wait for death every day—that’s not just torturing me, it’s torturing them too.

”Besides, an extra year or so of just breathing like that... it’s truly meaningless.”

Du Heng was taken aback. He hadn’t expected this matter to have anything to do with him. Just as he was about to speak, Yu Haiting, who was beside him, interjected, ”Secretary Lu, the doctors at the tumor hospital also said that some people’s lives have been prolonged by more than five years, and some even by more than a decade! How come you only focused on ’two or three years’?”

”Heh,” Lu Zhongjiang said to Xiao Yu. ”You haven’t been hospitalized there. If you saw the kind of pain those people endure, you wouldn’t be trying to persuade me like this.” He then fell silent for a moment. ”For the past two months, I’ve been very curious about one thing: those people are in so much pain, it’s a living hell, worse than death. So why do they choose such an outcome? Is living an extra year or two really that important?”