Making Room in the Hospital Bed

Zhonghai First Hospital, Dean's Office.

Feng Yong was completely dumbfounded at this moment.

Just now, he'd received a call from other shareholders on the management board, saying that the share structure of Zhonghai First Hospital had undergone a shocking change.

Someone had spent a fortune to acquire the equity of the remaining shareholders, reaching a total of a full ninety percent—a fact that gave Dean Feng a massive fright.

Although Feng Yong held the title of dean, he was also a shareholder of Zhonghai First Hospital. Even with only a meager seven percent of the shares, he still raked in several hundred million in dividends from the hospital every year.

Precisely because of this, he understood just how terrifying a person who could obtain ninety percent of the shares truly was.

"No, I must immediately gather all the hospital's specialists. We have to make Mr. Lin Chen feel how much we value him."

With that, he used the hospital's internal phone to notify the expert physicians from every department.

Soon, all those expert physicians had assembled.

"Dean, what's the big emergency that you called us over for so urgently?"

Some of the clueless expert physicians finally voiced their confusion when they saw the dean.

Though they were asking, judging by their humble demeanor, they were clearly trying to curry favor, even brown-nose.

Who would have thought that these expert physicians, who were so arrogant and high-and-mighty on the outside, would be in such a state here?

Still, it was understandable. As the only private hospital in Zhonghai, Zhonghai First Hospital offered benefits several times better than other hospitals outside—at least three to four times, sometimes as much as ten times over.

Especially since Feng Yong, as both dean and shareholder, was naturally the target of their flattery.

"Is everyone here?"

Looking at the crowd of renowned physicians and specialists, Feng Yong's authority surged forth, a stark contrast to the humble tone he'd used on the phone earlier.

"Most everyone's here, but Director Zhao isn't. Seems like he went to the inpatient ward to check on patients."

Someone in the crowd replied.

"The inpatient ward? Perfect. All of you, come with me to the inpatient ward. There's something important to handle."

"Dean, what exactly happened? You're in such a rush. Could it be that some big shot has come to the hospital?"

Feng Yong said seriously and solemnly, "You've hit the nail on the head. A big shot has indeed come to the hospital."

"Dean, who's the big shot? Could it be that former largest shareholder with fifteen percent?"

"You're half right. The person coming is indeed the hospital's largest shareholder, but not fifteen percent—ninety percent."

"This is news I just got. Someone spent a fortune to buy up all the shareholders' equity, reaching a full ninety percent. And right now, they're in the inpatient ward. That's why I called everyone together so urgently."

At these words, all the expert physicians present drew in a sharp breath of cold air.

They never imagined that this big shot was this big of a deal.

Because of the hospital's special nature, many people wouldn't sell their shares unless tempted by enormous profits. Otherwise, no one would give them up.

And now, the dean was saying someone had acquired ninety percent of Zhonghai First Hospital's shares—one could only imagine what an astronomical figure that was.

Once money reached a certain level, corresponding power would also grow. No wonder Dean Feng was taking it so seriously.

Seeing the shock on everyone's faces, Feng Yong's expression suddenly hardened, and he said coldly, "But I'll lay my cards on the table first. If anyone pisses off this big shot, don't blame me for turning ruthless. Pack your bags and get the hell out on your own."

Everyone quickly nodded in agreement.

No kidding—unless they had a screw loose, who the hell would go out of their way to offend such a towering figure?

And so, led by Feng Yong, the crowd of expert physicians marched in a grand procession toward the inpatient ward.

At that moment, Lin Chen, carrying fruit and flowers, arrived outside Room 606 of the inpatient ward.

Just as he was about to enter, he heard arguing from inside.

"What gives us the right? We've clearly paid the hospitalization fees. Without any lapse in payment, what gives you the right to make us move out?"

The speaker was Qin Xueqing, her face flushed red with anger.

Just now, she'd entered the room to share the day's events with her parents when the attending physician told her they needed to vacate the ward.

How could Qin Xueqing tolerate that?

Her mother was seriously ill and needed to stay hospitalized for observation. She couldn't even be moved abruptly.

Forcing them to move out now was no different from murder.

"What gives us the right? Because we have money and connections. What can you do about it?"

The Middle-aged Woman laughed coldly, as if she'd just heard the funniest joke.

"Director Zhao, I think you'd better handle this. But I hope you'll be quick about it."

With that, the Middle-aged Woman pinched her own arm. From the bruising, it was clear she was injured.

Director Zhao smiled obsequiously, then turned to Qin Xueqing and said, "Miss, in principle, hospital beds go to whoever checks in first. But you can't just hog it forever, can you?"

"Besides, I've already told you. Your mother's condition requires surgery, and I've already explained the costs to you. You've been occupying the bed without getting treatment. Isn't that just wasting resources?"

"If you can pay up right now, I'll let you keep staying here. But if you can't come up with the money, then there's no choice—I'll have to ask you to free up the bed for a patient who actually needs it."

Director Zhao knew he was in the wrong, so he started with courtesy before force.

But if he'd kept his mouth shut, it might've been fine. As soon as he said that, it only thoroughly enraged Qin Xueqing.

"What do you mean, 'for a patient who actually needs it'? So my mom doesn't have any needs?"

"And besides, she just bumped her hand a little—it's not even serious enough to need hospitalization. Can't you tell what's more important, Director Zhao?"

Qin Xueqing could only hate her own uselessness. Sure, her livestream had earned a lot in tips, but the platform's profit split wouldn't come until the end of the month, and that was still three or four days away.

There was no way she could pull out that much money all at once right now.

"Whether I need to be hospitalized or not is none of your business. Anyway, I've got money and connections—I'll stay if I want to, and I'm happy about it!"

"Director Zhao, hurry it up, will you? My hand still hurts."

Seeing Qin Xueqing fuming, the Middle-aged Woman sneered even more. As the wife of a shareholder, she could do whatever she pleased—no one else had the right to point fingers.

"Yes, yes, of course."

Director Zhao flattered with a sycophantic smile, then his face shifted as he turned to Qin Xueqing. He'd only said that earlier because he felt he was in the wrong.

But since she kept refusing to listen, his own anger flared up. If he didn't get this done, he'd have no future at the hospital.

At that thought, Director Zhao's expression turned extremely ugly, and even his voice rose several notches.

"Did I not make myself clear? I'm telling you now, as the hospital director—you're vacating this bed whether you like it or not."

"If you don't accept it, you can go complain to the hospital about me."

"But let me warn you—this is a private hospital, not a public one. If you want to file a complaint, you'd better know the consequences."

"The moment you do, I can guarantee your whole family will never set foot in this hospital for treatment again."

With that, Director Zhao signaled the accompanying doctors beside him to start the eviction.