CHAPTER 124: 124 CONVENIENT MEASURES

Pei Jihua followed the Auntie upstairs. Seeing she was carrying a lunch box in each hand, he offered to help, but she kindly refused.

Pei Jihua didn’t mind and asked, "Auntie, does the canteen here also provide meals for patients and their families?"

"Our township is quite remote. We only have one restaurant, and they only sell stir-fried dishes, not noodles," the Auntie explained. "So, in the past, we used to bring some bread from home and make do. Then, around noon or in the evening, when our children came, they would bring us some food."

"So why are meals provided now?"

"Doctor Du is wonderful! After he became the Dean, he talked to us and found out we live far away. So, he arranged for us to register and pay for meals in advance with the nurses each day. The kitchen then prepares food based on the number of registrations. You have no idea how much of a big help this has been to us."

Pei Jihua made a mental note of this; it was a very good initiative for public convenience.

Then he asked, "What kind of food do they serve? Is it good? Is it filling?"

"Look at these two lunch boxes in my hands. Today, it’s three dishes: two vegetable and one meat, plus a serving of noodles. And look at this chicken—it’s real, solid meat, not bulked up with potatoes or radishes. We eat exactly what the doctors and nurses here eat. I heard tonight they’re serving noodles with two cold dishes. I wonder how that will turn out."

Pei Jihua remarked, "So you eat whatever they make? You don’t get to choose, then."

"Choose? What’s there to choose?" the Auntie said. "This is already excellent. They didn’t provide us with meals before; they only cooked for the Health Clinic’s doctors and nurses, and only lunch at that. Now they cook for us too, and dinner as well. What more could we ask for?"

That made sense, Pei Jihua thought, then asked his final question before going in, "So, is it expensive?"

"Not at all. It’s 8 yuan per person, and it’s plenty to fill you up."

"8 yuan?"

It wasn’t exactly cheap, but considering the quality and quantity the Auntie described, it definitely wasn’t expensive. And it was filling—that was a significant plus. The large lunch box in the Auntie’s hand looked like it held enough food for him for two meals. Pei Jihua silently calculated the cost-benefit in his head, then turned to observe the layout of the second floor.

The second floor was divided into two rows of rooms: one with eight, and another near the staircase with six, making a total of fourteen rooms.

The Auntie entered the Hospital room first with the lunch boxes and beckoned, "Young man, come on in. It’s not crowded now, so it’s one patient per room. There are chairs and a bed inside; you can sit and rest for a bit. It’s midday; Doctor Du needs his rest too, right?"

Pei Jihua smiled, entered the Hospital room, greeted the old gentleman on the bed, and then surveyed the room again.

The Hospital room wasn’t large, but with only two sickbeds, it didn’t feel too crowded.

As the old couple ate, Pei Jihua observed that the man on the bed was only paralyzed from the waist down. He didn’t exhibit other common stroke symptoms like speech impairment or spastic contractures in the upper limbs. Apart from needing help to use the toilet, he seemed otherwise fine.

Pei Jihua continued chatting with the old couple. They discussed fees, medication, and various other topics, and the conversation flowed pleasantly.

Just then, Du Heng returned.

He walked into an empty Hall, thinking the patients might be in the office. But the office was empty too. He put on his white gown and went back out.

Just then, Wang Zhenzhen came in carrying a lunch box.

"Dean, you’re back."

"Oh, Sister, please stop calling me Dean."

"No, I can’t do that. Outside the Hospital, I can call you Xiao Heng, Xiao Du, or even by your first name, that’s fine. But in here, I must call you Dean." Wang Zhenzhen was very firm on this point.

She was older than Du Heng, and her husband was a Police Station Director. She understood better than Du Heng what kind of support he needed. Support wasn’t just about actions; it was also about attitude.

The Health Clinic wasn’t large, with only about a dozen staff members in total, and not everyone was genuinely pleased about Du Heng’s promotion.

Fortunately, among the doctors, Wu Buwei was his junior fellow apprentice. Wang Lili, the head nurse, was his classmate’s wife. And she herself, Wang Zhenzhen, handling finance, was his sister-in-law. All of them were his staunchest supporters and held key positions in important departments. With them firmly backing Du Heng, others didn’t really have a chance to cause trouble.

Most importantly, Du Heng, young as he was, knew how to handle people. Take the matter of providing meals for patients’ families, for instance. He charged families 8 yuan per meal and subsidized the kitchen chef an additional 2 yuan for each of those meals.

With the current number of inpatients and their accompanying family members, this involved over twenty people. Each meal service brought in nearly fifty yuan. Twice a day, that was almost a hundred yuan. Over a month, this income surpassed a regular salary.

Moreover, the chef didn’t have to cover any costs. Whether cooking for one or ten extra people, it meant additional income. So, the kitchen staff, particularly Old Fan, were delighted and never uttered a word of complaint.

"Alright, just listen to me on this. It’s for your own good. No matter how awkward it feels, you need to get used to it now."

Wang Zhenzhen decisively placed the lunch box in Du Heng’s hands. "You haven’t eaten yet, have you? I got this for you. Look, Old Fan in the kitchen really dotes on you—a whole lunch box of fried chicken! I asked him to add some vegetables, but he wouldn’t hear of it."

Du Heng could only manage a wry smile as he accepted the lunch box.

Ever since he’d mentioned giving Old Fan a subsidy, Du Heng’s lunch boxes had rarely contained any vegetables.

Especially yesterday’s steak—it was nothing but meat, without a single garlic sprout, and incredibly greasy. He no longer envied the food at the Police Station one bit. Eating so much meat was truly sickening!

"By the way, you mentioned a patient earlier? Where is he?"

Wang Zhenzhen glanced around. "Maybe he got tired of waiting and went for a walk. Don’t worry about it. You eat first. He’ll surely be back later."

Du Heng was indeed starting to feel quite hungry. He’d been in meetings all morning, filling up on nothing but bottled water. Then, wasting time in the leader’s office had been draining.

Pei Jihua chatted with the old couple for about half an hour. By then, they had finished their meal and seemed ready for their afternoon nap. Being tactful, Pei Jihua excused himself from the Hospital room.

When he reached the Hall, he saw Wang Zhenzhen still at the registration office and asked if Du Heng had returned.

Wang Zhenzhen gave him a surprised look. She had assumed he’d gone out for a walk, not expecting him to come down from upstairs.

Nevertheless, Wang Zhenzhen registered Pei Jihua and showed him the way to Du Heng’s office.

Du Heng still used his original consultation room for seeing patients. He rarely went to the Dean’s office on the third floor. He preferred staying in the traditional Chinese medicine clinic room on the first floor, ready for patients seeking treatment. He would likely only be compelled to move out of this office in July, once Wu Buwei obtained his practice qualification.

At that moment, he had just finished clearing away his lunch box and tidying his desk. He was reviewing the disease records of several stroke patients he had admitted. He had developed a keen interest in studying these disease records. He read them attentively, constantly gaining new insights.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

"Come in."

"Hello, Doctor Du. My name is Pei Jihua. Do you remember me?"

Du Heng looked up at the man who had entered and smiled faintly. "Please, sit down. I heard your wife was hospitalized. Did she have surgery?"