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🕑 Added 2025-06-03 16:06:35 +0000 UTCChapter 327: Physical Edition – You Broke My Heart
The next day.
4:30 AM.
The hospital was once again bustling with the early morning shift.
Observation Surgery Room.
Dr. Burke was performing a coronary artery bypass surgery, and as expected, the fortunate intern assisting him was Meredith.
Adam and the others sat in the observation area, chatting while watching the live surgery.
"I heard you're going too?"
Christina asked casually.
"You're not going?"
Adam was a little surprised.
"At first, I wanted to go because Liz said it was just a small gathering with a few of us, and we’d get to meet her boyfriend."
Christina scoffed, "But then I heard she invited not only people from surgery, trauma, and plastic surgery but even those little brats from pediatrics and the nutcases from psych. All my enthusiasm disappeared—this party is going to be a disaster."
"That’s a bit much."
Adam glanced at her.
"What do you mean?"
Christina dismissed it indifferently, "People who go into pediatrics or psychiatry—aren’t they just little kids and idiots? Who in their right mind chooses those specialties? When we finish our internship and pick a specialty, would you choose pediatrics or psych?"
"…."
Adam was at a loss for words.
Pediatricians had it rough—no doubt about it.
In the U.S., pediatricians consistently ranked at the bottom of the doctor salary scale.
In a country where money is king, you can imagine where pediatricians stand in the medical hierarchy.
Yesterday, the pediatrician who diagnosed Joey’s new girlfriend’s daughter, Dr. Doug Ross, was a charming man. But even he got dumped by Nurse Carol.
Of course, the real reason was that Dr. Ross was too much of a flirt.
But in his own words, it became: "Do you know which type of doctor earns the least? You made the right choice dating a football player instead."
The only ones who could rival pediatricians in low income were family doctors.
That said, it still wasn’t terrible—after all, it was still a high-income job compared to the average salary.
Back in Adam’s previous life in China, his brother-in-law was a pediatrician, and that was truly miserable.
Low pay. Heavy workload.
Seriously, low pay and exhausting work.
His brother-in-law made just over 100,000 yuan per year, which seemed decent—until you realized he was in Shenzhen.
The average annual salary there was already around 110,000–120,000. So after five years of medical school, three years of a master’s degree, and three years of residency training, he was actually below average.
Can you believe that?
Why was the pay so low?
Simple—base salaries were similar across the board, but income depended heavily on department bonuses.
And where do those bonuses come from? Department revenue.
A child's dosage is only a fraction of an adult’s—so how can a pediatric department generate revenue?
At first, Adam’s brother-in-law’s bonuses were even lower than his sister’s, who was a nurse. It was only after he completed residency training that he finally surpassed her—otherwise, his status in the family would’ve been questionable.
And it wasn’t just about low income—the workload was brutal.
Seeing 100 patients a day was normal.
Kids have weaker immune systems, and when they gather, they get sick easily.
The start of school and flu season? Absolute nightmares for pediatricians.
When a child gets sick, the whole family shows up. Young parents were manageable, but grandparents? Not so much. They were often uncooperative and difficult.
A pediatric clinic felt like a chaotic farmer’s market—constant crying, yelling, and noise that could drive anyone insane.
His brother-in-law had chosen pediatrics because his grades were average and job competition was fierce. Pediatrics had fewer applicants, making it an easier choice.
He had long regretted it and had been trying to switch specialties.
Back when Adam crossed over, there was even an infamous incident where an entire pediatric department applied to transfer out—an unprecedented move.
They wouldn’t have done it unless they were truly desperate.
At one hospital, the monthly performance bonus coefficient for pediatrics was 1.0, translating to 498 yuan. Meanwhile, for administrative staff, it was 1.0 but worth 2,600 yuan—a fivefold difference!
That was pediatrics.
Psychiatry, on the other hand, was high-paying—but just look at Leonard’s mother, Beverly, and you’ll understand why Christina called psych doctors "idiots."
Psychiatrists who delve too deeply into their patients' minds often end up with their own issues.
Case in point: the psychiatrist treating the Joker ended up becoming Harley Quinn.
"Honestly, why even bother with this party?"
Christina complained, "We barely get time off as it is. If I had a free day, I’d spend it in bed with my boyfriend—not wasting time on a party. Tell me, do you think Liz’s boyfriend has performance issues?"
"You should ask Liz that yourself."
Adam felt like his sarcasm still needed work.
Just look at Christina—she had managed to roast almost everyone within minutes.
And the worst part? She wasn’t even wrong.
"But if that’s not the reason, then Liz probably wants to break up."
"Break up?"
George, who had been silent until now, couldn’t help but join the conversation. "No way."
"You mean Liz doesn’t want to break up directly, so she’s hoping her boyfriend will take the hint and back off?"
Christina immediately caught on to Adam’s meaning.
"What else?"
Adam shrugged. "Like you said, we’re all as busy as spinning tops. If she really wanted to introduce her boyfriend to everyone, why would she waste her precious free time on a party instead of just spending it with him?"
"Wait—what if Liz actually likes you?"
Christina suddenly turned to Adam. "Maybe that’s why she wants to break up—to be with you instead?"
"Don’t be ridiculous."
Adam shook his head. "That’s impossible."
Christina smirked. "Still, it makes sense for Liz to want to break up. They’re not even in the same city. She’s insanely busy every day—how is she supposed to maintain a long-distance, Platonic relationship? Without that moral burden, she’d be free to do whatever she wants. If it were me, I’d just break up outright instead of making him come all this way."
"You’ve worked with Liz for a while now, and you still don’t get her personality?"
Adam gave her a sideways glance. "Do you really think she’d be the type to break up first and hurt someone?"
Christina fell silent.
Saint Liz always put others first—there was no way she’d initiate a breakup.
"Wait, something’s wrong!"
Adam’s expression suddenly changed.
"What is it?"
Christina asked.
A storm raged in Adam’s mind.
Inside the OR, Meredith was holding up the heart.
Adam saw her briefly doze off—her fingers squeezed the patient’s heart.
Not a huge deal—the myocardium was strong enough to withstand a little pressure.
But Adam’s sharp eyes caught something—Meredith’s glove had been punctured by her own fingernail.
This…
Adam’s gaze locked onto the surgery below.
Dr. Burke placed the heart back in, warmed it up, and removed the bypass. The heart was supposed to restart.
But it didn’t.
Everyone tensed.
"Is this a transplant?"
"Not yet sutured. What’s the temperature?"
"96 and rising."
"It has to restart on its own."
"It’s failing!"
Adam couldn’t hold back any longer. He pressed the intercom button.
"Dr. Burke, check for a cardiac puncture. I saw Dr. Grey’s glove was torn by her fingernail."
The moment he said this, all eyes turned to Meredith.
Chapter 328: What Did Your Goddess Do?
Observing the Operating Room.
As soon as Adam spoke, everyone turned to look at Meredith’s fingers.
Meredith instantly panicked.
"Dr. Grey, identify the exact spot you just touched."
While massaging the heart with his fingers in an attempt to restore its rhythm, Dr. Burke ordered in a deep voice, "Defibrillator, ready!"
"The vitals are dropping to 90."
Dr. Burke’s calm demeanor influenced the rest of the surgical team, and they quickly refocused on their tasks.
"Charge! 10 joules!"
Dr. Burke took the specialized cardiac defibrillator and positioned it over the heart. "Clear!"
The monitor still showed a flatline.
"20 joules!"
"Clear!"
"Alright, the heartbeat is back," a nurse announced.
Everyone let out a sigh of relief.
"Dr. Grey!"
Dr. Burke called out, "Where is the spot?"
"Here."
Meredith racked her brain, trying to recall, and then pointed to a location in horror.
"The myocardium is strong—it wouldn’t tear just from a fingernail scratch..."
Dr. Burke reassured her as he examined the area, but then he suddenly shouted, "Damn it! How is there such a large tear?"
Gasp!
A wave of shock spread through the observing interns.
"This is bad!"
George’s heart sank.
Who would have thought that Meredith had actually torn the patient’s heart?
"The myocardium is too thin," Adam quickly analyzed. "A small injury turned into a major tear."
"If you hadn’t warned us beforehand, the sutures would’ve failed, and the patient would have needed another surgery."
Christina sighed. "Meredith should really thank you. If this had led to a malpractice investigation, she could have lost her medical license."
"Do you know the patient’s medical history?" Adam asked.
"I do..."
Christina was always prepared—she had memorized the records of any patient undergoing major surgery.
"You said she originally weighed 300 pounds and lost weight quickly down to 200 pounds?"
Adam immediately pinpointed the issue. "With such rapid weight loss, she must have used extreme dieting. As her fat decreased rapidly, so did her myocardium, making it dangerously thin. That’s why Meredith’s touch caused a tear, which then expanded."
"That actually makes sense," Christina murmured, feeling a wave of powerlessness in front of Adam’s sharp insight.
"Dr. Burke..."
Adam pressed the intercom and relayed his analysis.
"Excellent diagnosis," Dr. Burke praised while continuing the surgery. "Well done, Dr. Duncan!"
Now that the issue was clear, Dr. Burke’s surgical expertise quickly resolved the problem.
"Dr. Grey, you owe Dr. Duncan a big thank you."
Dr. Burke glanced at Meredith.
"I know," Meredith exhaled, relieved, and quickly agreed.
"Alright, let’s start closing up," Dr. Burke instructed.
In the Observation Gallery.
The group exchanged glances at Adam, then quietly left their seats.
Not everyone had Christina’s level of confidence and competitive drive.
While Christina merely felt a sense of inadequacy in the face of Adam’s brilliance, the others had already dismissed him from the category of "intern."
There was no way such an exceptional person could be just an intern.
He must be a senior resident pretending to be a rookie.
How infuriating!
"You shouldn’t have said that," George muttered, his thoughts running in a different direction. "At the very least, not in front of everyone."
"Because you have a crush on Meredith?" Adam mocked.
"No," George denied, "but under normal circumstances, the myocardium shouldn’t be that fragile. Pointing it out like that makes Meredith look bad."
Even though things had settled now, she would still face internal disciplinary actions.
In George’s mind, if Adam had kept quiet, no one would have noticed.
The patient had a weak myocardium—it was reasonable for an unexpected tear to occur.
If no one brought it up, they could’ve simply done another surgery to repair it.
But now that Adam had spoken, Meredith’s mistake was set in stone.
"Normal circumstances? Are these normal circumstances?"
Adam sneered. "If I hadn’t said anything, and the sutures failed post-op, the patient would need another surgery. Do you think the patient could handle that? More importantly, why should they have to endure that? Just because you like Meredith?"
"I think Adam did the right thing," Christina interjected. "As doctors, our priority is the patient. Meredith should’ve trimmed her nails beforehand, and she definitely shouldn’t have been dozing off. These kinds of basic mistakes are unacceptable."
"She’s been really busy lately," George tried to justify. "The workload is intense—it’s understandable to make mistakes."
"If she was exhausted, she shouldn’t have fought for this surgery," Adam countered. "I’m sure Christina, you, or Liz wouldn’t have made such a careless mistake."
"I definitely wouldn’t have," Christina said confidently.
She was always energetic, especially when she had a surgery—especially a coronary artery bypass.
Christina had long been irritated by the special treatment Meredith received in high-profile surgeries.
Dr. Shepherd’s neurosurgeries? Almost all went to Meredith.
And now even Dr. Burke prioritized her?
There was no way that wasn’t influenced by Chief Webber’s connections.
George was speechless.
Of course, he understood the logic.
But Meredith was his goddess.
"You all live together—so what exactly is keeping her up at night?"
Adam cut straight to the point, seeing through George’s thoughts.
Even with 14-hour shifts, that still left 10 hours—more than enough time for proper rest, if she weren’t distracted.
"..."
George’s face darkened, unable to respond.
What else could it be?
Late-night ‘deep discussions’ about advanced neurology with Dr. Shepherd, obviously.
Adam stood up and left the observation gallery.
If it hadn’t been an emergency, he wouldn’t have embarrassed a colleague in front of everyone.
The +0.001 system notification reassured him that he’d done the right thing.
So he had no regrets.
He couldn’t stand the way Meredith benefited from her "main character aura."
Think about it—without the privilege of being the protagonist, would she have been so relaxed?
Her boss and her boss’s boss were all her personal connections.
That kind of subconscious entitlement made her careless enough to make such a rookie mistake.
A surgeon with nails long enough to tear a glove?
What did she think she was, the Empress Dowager?
Falling asleep while holding a heart in her hands?
How much more careless could you get?
This was Meredith’s first time holding a human heart.
For any surgeon, that moment should be unforgettable.
And yet she fell asleep?
Unless she was way too comfortable, lacking the respect and reverence a surgeon should have, Adam couldn’t think of any other explanation.
Chapter 329: One Thought to Become a Buddha, One Thought to Become a Demon
Noon.
Cafeteria.
Adam and the others were having lunch.
Meredith walked over with her tray, sat directly across from Adam, and stared at him intently.
Christina and the others immediately switched into gossip mode, their eyes full of curiosity and excitement.
Adam, unlike Sheldon and the others who would just poke at their food with a fork without eating, continued eating as usual, unfazed.
Bianca frowned at Meredith, looking ready to intervene at any moment.
“Thank you.”
To Christina’s disappointment, Meredith, after staring at Adam for a while, suddenly spoke sincerely.
“You’re welcome.”
Adam glanced at her briefly.
“If you hadn’t pointed out the mistake right then and there, the consequences…”
Meredith’s tone was full of gratitude. “I’ve been thinking about it all morning, especially when I faced the patient’s family. The fear of what could’ve happened hit me even harder. If things had gone wrong, I probably wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from admitting my mistake right in front of them... In the end, you saved me. Really, thank you!”
“The first lesson of residency training: Never admit mistakes in front of patients or their families.”
Christina couldn’t help but remind her, “Even without Adam’s warning, you shouldn’t have done that. That’s common sense. Did you forget?”
“Admitting it in the moment is far more useful than a guilty confession after the fact.”
Adam said calmly, “But paying attention to common sense and details beforehand is even more useful than admitting mistakes when they happen.”
This was just who she was.
Anyone else probably wouldn’t have reacted this way.
Someone spends eight grueling years studying, accumulates two or three hundred thousand dollars in student debt, and makes it this far.
One step forward, and they become a respected doctor.
One step back, and they might end up on the streets.
If you confess your mistake to a patient’s family after the fact, the most likely outcome is getting fired—maybe even losing your medical license.
Unable to use the professional skills they spent years mastering, still buried in debt with no way to pay it off, they’d likely end up homeless.
Living off food from charity shelters.
On holidays, they might be able to visit a few different shelters, where most of the good donated food would already be taken home by volunteers—after all, they’re “starving” too. But at least there would be plenty of junk food to eat until they were full. That would be considered a holiday celebration.
If they were especially lucky, they might run into someone eccentric like Barney, who’d buy them a lap dance to give them a taste of “heaven.”
But that’s about as good as it gets.
Does that compare in any way to being a successful doctor?
Would anyone choose the latter path?
Adam asked himself: If this had happened to him, would he admit to it?
No.
That’s just human nature.
But does that mean Meredith is somehow more noble than Adam and the others?
Of course not.
It only means that her “main character syndrome” is still going strong.
She hasn’t fully grasped the extreme fear of the real consequences. Deep down, she still believes she’ll be fine. That’s why she dares to say she would admit her mistake— even in front of the patient’s family.
Who else would do that?
This kind of thinking is far more dangerous than a simple human weakness.
Human weaknesses are well understood, and systems have been put in place to manage them, so the harm is actually limited.
But this “main character syndrome” operates at a subconscious level, meaning the person isn’t even aware of it.
Once they act recklessly, they end up hurting both themselves and others.
And to make matters worse, people like her appear noble—owning up to mistakes, taking responsibility, shining with a moral glow.
But life-and-death situations demand a healthy level of fear.
As doctors, having fear and reverence is far better than being fearless and reckless.
“Meredith has already improved a lot.”
George, the sycophantic pretty boy, couldn’t help but defend his goddess again. “Every doctor makes mistakes. Even someone as great as Dr. Burke once left a towel inside a patient’s lung, and it wasn’t discovered until today.”
“How do you know that?”
Christina’s eyes narrowed.
“You guys don’t know?”
George explained, “I’m the attending physician for Mrs. Drake. She had surgery at our hospital five years ago and has been feeling chest tightness ever since.
“But she used to smoke four packs a day, so lung shadows were considered normal. Even after she quit, no one took her complaints seriously.
“Until today, when she had another surgery, and the chief surgeon found a towel inside her lung. That’s when we realized the mistake had happened during her previous operation—and Dr. Burke was the lead surgeon at the time.”
“Wait, how do you know it was Dr. Burke?”
Christina asked, her voice tense.
Adam glanced at her.
Christina immediately looked away, guilty.
She was the one who had looked up the old records.
She had originally planned to warn Dr. Burke in advance because they’d been getting a little... close lately.
That’s right.
The elderly nurse with pancreatic cancer from last time had ultimately chosen not to undergo surgery and had passed away naturally.
In her final moments, Christina had an emotional outburst, insisting on resuscitating her despite the signed DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) order. Dr. Burke had pulled her away.
In the stairwell, as he comforted her, their faces had been just inches apart, their breaths mingling—sparking an undeniable moment of chemistry.
This morning, Dr. Burke had even brought her a latte. The implication was clear.
And Christina was happy about it.
For one thing, she had always been drawn to highly skilled professionals, especially in cardiothoracic surgery.
Dr. Burke was tall, a little dark-skinned, but had a refined elegance—an undeniable charm.
For someone like her, who practically lived at the hospital 24/7, having a colleague who could provide a little... release was definitely a perk.
On top of that, Meredith’s endless special privileges were starting to get on her nerves.
If Meredith had chosen neurosurgery with attending physician Dr. Shepherd, then she would go for cardiothoracic surgery with Dr. Burke. After all, once residency ended and they moved on to specialty training, cardiothoracic surgery was her goal.
If they became “mutually beneficial friends,” then the next time a coronary artery bypass surgery opportunity came up, it wouldn’t be Meredith getting into the OR—it would be her.
So, she had originally planned to warn Dr. Burke first.
But when she saw him confidently tell her that nothing could shake him, she suddenly hesitated.
If Dr. Burke chose to bury the report, she would be complicit.
For an uncertain relationship, was it worth taking such a huge risk?
Rational as she was, Christina had no intention of doing that.
So, she had followed Dr. Bailey’s instructions, retrieved the old records, handed them over, and kept her mouth shut.
Later, she saw Dr. Bailey give the records to Dr. Burke.
That left her with mixed feelings.
So, Dr. Bailey was like this too?
If she had known, she might have been the one to trade that favor...
But now, George had blurted out that Dr. Burke was the lead surgeon.
That made Christina nervous.
Were there backup records somewhere?
Good thing she hadn’t helped cover it up!
(End of Chapter)
