I Am Diagnosed as a Medical Titan

It was late at night.

In Room 402, Jiang He was still writing.

Wang Bo had been engrossed in the tragic scene in Slaying Immortals where Biyao blocks a sword.

But the continuous rustling sound was starting to get to him...

He couldn’t help but lower his book, poke his head out, and peer down over the bed rail.

He saw Jiang He sitting bolt upright, his notebook already filled with several densely packed pages of writing.

It was a strange feeling—

You aren’t worried when your bros are out chasing girls, you aren’t worried when they’re at an internet cafe, but you panic when you see them studying!

He felt like ants were crawling all over him; he was starting to panic.

"Ahem..." Wang Bo finally couldn’t take it anymore and made a deliberate noise. "Old Jiang? Still not sleeping?"

Jiang He: "Yeah, in a bit."

"What are you writing? I feel like you’ve been at it all night... Bro, don’t tell me you’re studying for the grad school entrance exams?"

"Nope." Jiang He didn’t even look up. "I’m reviewing. I signed up for the Clinical Pathology Diagnostic Competition."

Wang Bo: "?"

’Jiang He... what gives him the nerve to enter that competition?’

As the person with the best grades in the dorm, he felt it was his duty to offer some guidance.

"Old Jiang, if there’s anything you don’t understand, just ask me."

"Perfect timing," Jiang He said. "In a pancreaticoduodenectomy, if the uncinate process is too tightly adhered to the superior mesenteric vein, do you think it’s better to ligate the vascular branches first or to attempt a direct subadventitial dissection?"

Wang Bo blinked.

’Uncinate process?’

’And what was that... subadventitial dissection?’

His brain frantically searched through textbook indexes. After a long, awkward pause, he finally said hesitantly, "Uh... Well, I think... safety first, right? So maybe... subadventitial dissection?"

’So this is how students in ’08 think about it.’ Jiang He nodded thoughtfully. "Mm, thanks."

Wang Bo: "..."

’Damn it, I just spouted a bunch of nonsense.’

—’Goddammit, I shouldn’t have even asked!’

"Haha, alright then." Wang Bo sheepishly pulled his head back. "You keep studying. I’ll... I’ll get back to my book."

He picked up Slaying Immortals again.

But this time, even Slaying Immortals had lost its appeal...

Eleven o’clock at night.

Jiang He quickly wrapped things up, organized his materials, turned off the light, and climbed into bed.

In the darkness, he took out his phone and opened Mobile QQ.

The Java version of the app was slow to start. A small hourglass in the center of the screen spun and spun for a good ten seconds or more before the login screen finally appeared.

’Time to add my wife as a friend.’

Jiang He was surprisingly nervous.

In his past life, they had met after graduation.

But in this life, he couldn’t wait that long.

The causes of pancreatic cancer are complex. Besides genetic issues, they are also closely related to one’s lifestyle and daily habits.

Shen Yu loved sweets and staying up late. He had to help her correct these bad habits, little by little, starting now.

After a moment’s thought, his fingers flew across the 9-key keypad as he typed in the QQ number and tapped ’Search’.

The screen flickered, and a profile card popped up.

[Nickname]: Little Mihu

[Avatar]: A non-mainstream cartoon girl blowing bubbles.

[Status]: Happiness is a cat eating fish, a dog eating meat, and Ultraman beating up little monsters. (^o^)/~

A smile touched Jiang He’s lips as he looked at these words, so full of the feeling of that era.

’So Teacher Shen was a "chuuni" girl too when she was nineteen.’

He clicked ’Add Friend’ but hesitated for a long time over the verification message.

After careful consideration, he sent:

[Hi, I’m a student from the Medical University next door. I found your meal card in the Normal University’s No. 2 Cafeteria, and it had your QQ number on it.]

He tapped ’Send’. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Jiang He placed the phone on his chest and stared blankly at the ceiling.

’Shen Yu was always so scatterbrained.’

’In university, she had to replace her meal card several times every semester. She could even lose it when it was hanging around her neck. Things only got a little better after she finally wrote her QQ number on it...’

Suddenly, his phone vibrated.

["Little Mihu" has accepted your friend request.]

Immediately after, a message arrived.

Little Mihu: [Hi! Did you find my meal card?]

Jiang He replied as naturally as possible: [Yeah, it had your QQ number on it.]

Little Mihu: [Wuwuwu... But I just got a new one this afternoon.]

Jiang He: [Oh, I see.]

Little Mihu: [But thank you anyway! Next time you’re at the Normal University, I’ll treat you to a meal at the cafeteria! I’m going to sleep now, I have to get up early for morning self-study tomorrow.]

Jiang He: [Okay, rest well.]

Little Mihu: [Mhm, good night! 886~]

Her avatar went gray. She probably just went invisible to keep playing on her phone.

Jiang He breathed a sigh of relief and opened her QQ Zone.

The simple WAP page took a few seconds to load, and lines of text gradually appeared.

Above the "Moods" and "Journal" sections, there was a module with a music note icon—

[Current Background Music]: "Sweet" — Jay Chou.

Mobile web pages in ’08 didn’t support autoplay, but the familiar melody was already looping in his mind.

♫: "I gently taste a bite of the love you said you had for me, still savoring the tenderness you gave..."

He scrolled through her posts and journal entries one by one.

[September 20, 2008]: As long as you keep your head up and look at the sky, the tears won’t fall. — Annie Baby said.

[September 15, 2008]: I want to eat the malatang from the stall by the school gate, but I have to lose weight, so conflicted... [Frustrated]

[August 8, 2008]: The Beijing Olympics opening ceremony is here! Go China!!!

After scrolling to the bottom, he clicked on her photo albums.

There was a password-protected album inside called "This Summer".

Without hesitation, Jiang He typed: 890716.

This was Shen Yu’s birth date—year, month, day—and her most common password. He’d crack it in a second.

The album opened, and he began to browse through it openly.

Inside.

There were pictures taken in the dorm mirror, pictures of her jumping in the air on the athletic field, and pictures of her feigning a profound look while holding a book in the library.

The photos were blurry, but the girl was still beautiful.

She had dimples when she smiled, and dimples when she cried.

She was so brilliant, so radiant, like a bright star in the night sky.

Jiang He’s gaze softened.

He saved the photos one by one.

The internet speed was terrible, so saving the pictures was slow and often failed, but Jiang He was very patient.

’This is all top-tier embarrassing material. In the future, after I marry her, I’ll find a chance to print these photos out and plaster them all over a wall, just to make her mad...’

Once he finished saving the photos, Jiang He logged out of her QQ Zone.

Lying in the dark, his mind was flooded with a million thoughts.

During their chat just now, for a split second, he had really wanted to just tell her:

"Shen Yu, I’m Jiang He."

"I’m your future husband."

"I’ve been reborn. I came back for you."

But he held back.

In his past life, because his family was poor and his studies were demanding, his relationship with Shen Yu had been quite hard and simple.

There were no proper dates, no surprise gifts. Even his marriage proposal had taken place in a rented apartment.

Shen Yu had never once complained, but Jiang He felt it was all a great regret.

Since heaven had let him live again.

He wouldn’t just save her life.

He would also give her the perfect youth she deserved, one without any regrets.

’I’ll take it slow.’

He closed his eyes.

Jiang He ran through his plan for the next day in his mind.

’Seven in the morning, I have to go to the library to review.’

Although he now possessed twenty years of top-tier clinical experience from the future...

...this was, after all, a diagnostic competition for university students. The questions wouldn’t be limited to clinical practice; they would most likely involve a great deal of basic medical theory.

It was like asking a top surgeon to perform a Whipple procedure—he could probably do it without a problem. But if you asked him to write out every reaction step of the tricarboxylic acid cycle from memory, he really might not be able to do it...

Since his goal was to gain Professor Yang Xu’s recognition through this, he absolutely couldn’t afford to fail due to a simple mistake.

’Tomorrow, I’ll go over the pathology and diagnostics textbooks.’