Surrounded by a crowd, Dr. Zhang was suddenly at a loss as he heard line after line of earnest pleas; in front of him were faces filled with simplicity, yearning, and longing. It had been many years since he had dealt with such a scene. In fact, in recent years at the Provincial People's Hospital, his position was exceptional, mostly treating prominent figures, and these were typically arranged by the hospital, rarely having the opportunity to face so many patients on his own.
Although he could feel their sincere desire in their hearts, he had a son himself and understood their feelings at the moment; he also couldn't bear to refuse them. However, the problem was that he was not a god, just an ordinary doctor. His energy would not allow him to perform surgery on each of these people individually; like the surgery he had just performed on Wang Xiaohu, he could at most schedule two to three operations a day, any more would be unbearable.
