Iceberg's Deep Love - Chapter 10

“Xiao Tang, take another look at these figures in this section of the paper. Are they accurate?”

Gu Jihuan circled two numbers within a series of data with her red pen, her fingertip brushing against the hair at her temple as she tucked stray strands behind her ear.

It was dusk, and the golden sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating Gu Jihuan’s profile.

Her long, thick lashes froze momentarily in mid-air, framing eyes as dark as polished lacquer. Her brown, curly hair was casually tied into a loose ponytail, and the fingertips holding the pen were so pale they seemed almost bloodless.

“Mhm, mhm, mhm,” Tang Menghua murmured, diligently taking notes.

Gu Jihuan was usually too busy to spare such focused time for her junior doctors, meticulously revising their papers. Tang Menghua cherished these rare moments.

“That’s about it,” Gu Jihuan said, flipping through the printed pages. “We’re missing a few case studies. Adding a few more would make the analysis more comprehensive.”

“Understood. I’ll keep a careful record,” Tang Menghua replied, pulling something from the large pocket of her white coat. “For Professor Gu. Thank you for your hard work.”

“What’s this?” Gu Jihuan couldn’t help but chuckle at the bright red can and familiar logo. “Why did you decide to bring me a Coke?”

Tang Menghua grinned sheepishly. “I noticed Professor Gu drinking Coke a lot while assisting with surgeries lately. He seems to really enjoy it.”

She pushed the can closer to Gu Jihuan. “They call it ‘happy water.’ Drinking this will chase away any blues.”

“Alright, thank you for your thoughtfulness,” Gu Jihuan said, casually tucking the Coke into her bag.

Truthfully, she wasn’t a huge fan of Coke, but it was a convenient way to replenish fluids and sugar while staying alert—perfect for post-surgery recovery.

Gu Jihuan opened a drawer. “Looks like you haven’t been paying close enough attention. I prefer this.”

She pulled out a chocolate bar and handed it to Tang Menghua. “This is for you, Doctor Tang. You’ve been working tirelessly for over 24 hours, and still came to me after your shift to revise your paper. Consider it a reward. Just like ‘happy water,’ this will bring you joy too.”

“Wow, thank you so much, Professor Gu!” Tang Menghua didn’t hesitate to accept, beaming as she tucked the chocolate into her pocket.

Tang Menghua, initially reserved around Gu Jihuan, had completely shed her inhibitions.

Gu Jihuan had an exceptionally kind nature, except when arguing with Liu Zhiping, when she could be frighteningly fierce…

Suddenly remembering something, Tang Menghua said, “Professor Gu, I just remembered something. When I arrived, I saw a family member lingering near your door. I think it was the family of the child with the congenital atrial septal defect…”

After a moment’s pause, Tang Menghua continued, “She seemed to be pacing for a while. When she saw me approaching, she left.”

“Mm, I understand,” Gu Jihuan nodded, smiling. “Doctor Tang, you should get off work soon. A cardiothoracic surgeon dying suddenly would be quite the scandal.”

“Alright,” Tang Menghua replied with a grin, turning to open the door. She paused, surprised. “Yanyan’s mother, what are you still doing here?”

“I…” The woman opened her mouth, but no coherent words came out.

Tang Menghua asked, “Do you have any questions for Professor Gu about Yanyan’s condition? She’s inside.”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” the woman said, instinctively turning to leave.

Just then, Gu Jihuan’s voice rang out, “Yanyan’s mother, come in and tell me what’s on your mind.”

She had already visited Gu Jihuan once this morning, so something else must be going on.

“I contacted Professor Fang Lingyu today. She should have already spoken with you. Ventricular septal defect repair is a routine procedure in Cardiothoracic Surgery. Professor Fang performs over a hundred such surgeries each year. Yanyan’s surgery can be scheduled very soon, so there’s no need to worry.”

“Doctor Gu, I don’t want to take up your time. I know how precious your work hours are.” The woman’s expression was full of distress. After a moment’s hesitation, she continued, “Professor Fang is wonderful. The surgery is scheduled for tomorrow. But Yanyan… when she heard she was getting a new doctor, she absolutely refused to go through with it…”

Gu Jihuan remembered Yanyan—a nineteen-year-old girl with bright, wide eyes and charming dimples when she smiled.

Whenever Gu Jihuan visited her ward, Yanyan would always lower her head shyly, smile timidly, and appear exceptionally well-behaved and cooperative.

Gu Jihuan glanced at her watch. “It’s already time for me to leave work. I’ll go see Yanyan and have a chat with her.”

In the Cardiothoracic Surgery ward, family members hurried back and forth, their faces etched with worry.

Yanyan’s room housed four patients, with her bed positioned closest to the inner window.

When Gu Jihuan arrived, she found Yanyan sitting on the edge of her bed, her back to the door, head bowed as she played with her phone.

“Yanyan, why are you suddenly refusing the surgery?” Gu Jihuan asked calmly, a faint smile on her face as she approached the bed and met the girl’s gaze.

“Doctor… Doctor Gu…” Yanyan seemed startled, standing up and muttering in a slightly reproachful tone, “Mom, I told you not to bother Doctor Gu. Why did you still call her?”

“Your mother is just worried about you. Tell me, you were all prepared for the surgery, it was about to happen. What changed your mind?”

Yanyan pressed her lips together and whispered, “Doctor Gu, I saw the video online.”

The video had caused a massive uproar; it was likely everyone in the ward had seen it, not just Yanyan.

The smile on Gu Jihuan’s lips froze for a moment. When she had entered the room, the conversation had abruptly stopped, undoubtedly because of this incident.

Her voice remained gentle and reassuring. “So? What are your thoughts, Yanyan?”

“It’s nothing like what the video said. Doctor Gu would never abandon her medical ethics for money,” Yanyan declared, her eyes shining brightly.

When Yanyan and her mother arrived at the hospital, all the specialist appointments in Cardiothoracic Surgery were already booked. Gu Jihuan noticed them struggling with their heavy bags and learned they had traveled all the way from a remote mountain village. She specially added an extra appointment for them and stayed late to see Yanyan.

Yanyan didn’t believe a word of what she’d read online. Just moments ago, she had been fiercely debating with netizens in the comments section of the viral video.

Her voice bristled with righteous indignation: “The hospital must have reassigned my doctor because of this whole mess. We’re comrades in the same trench! If I switch to another doctor now, it would be like abandoning Doctor Gu. I’m not that disloyal.”

“So you’re just going to refuse the surgery?” Gu Jihuan asked slowly. “Your mother is sleeping on the floor in the hospital to save money on a hotel. Every day you delay, she has to spend another day’s worth of expenses. You said yourself that I wanted to help your family save money. Aren’t you just letting all our efforts go to waste?”

“I…” Yanyan’s voice lost its conviction. “I didn’t think about it that much.”

“Just focus on cooperating with Professor Fang for the surgery. I’ll handle my own affairs,” Gu Jihuan said, patting Yanyan’s head gently.

Warm fingertips brushed across Yanyan’s forehead. She blinked, gently touched the spot, and couldn’t help but smile.

“But… is Doctor Gu really okay?” Yanyan still seemed worried. “I could make a video too, to clear things up for her.”

“No need,” Gu Jihuan said with a gentle smile. “Just focus on your surgery. Leave this to me. I promise I’ll have it resolved before you’re discharged.”

“Really?” Yanyan’s eyes widened.

“Really. I don’t lie to kids,” Gu Jihuan teased with a laugh.

“I’m not a kid anymore! You all keep calling me a kid,” Yanyan pouted, but the smile in her eyes grew brighter.

As Gu Jihuan left the room, her smile faltered slightly. What should I do? she wondered. She had no idea.

She had always been idealistic, believing that right and wrong would naturally prevail. But under the weight of public opinion, Jianghuan Hospital showed no intention of protecting her.

She had initially thought that even if she couldn’t perform surgeries, she could still review medical records and help Tang Menghua and the others revise their research papers.

But after seeing Yanyan, she realized that she wasn’t the only one suffering injustice—her patients were too.

She needed to find a way to resolve this quickly, so she could return to the operating room and save more lives.

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” Someone suddenly pounced from behind, draping an arm around Gu Jihuan’s shoulders.

“How did you end up here in the inpatient ward?” Gu Jihuan asked, instinctively grabbing Jiang Min’s hand. “Weren’t all the surgeries scheduled for today?”

“Old Li’s quick hands finished early,” Jiang Min mumbled around the lollipop in her mouth. “Jianghuan’s ‘First Blade’ lives up to his reputation.”

Jiang Min was referring to Li Tianbao, the head of Hepatobiliary Surgery. The elderly surgeon, nearing seventy, was renowned for his steady, precise, and swift operations, consistently finishing ahead of schedule.

Jiang Min had been assisting Li Tianbao’s surgery that afternoon, which was originally expected to last until nightfall. Instead, it concluded just as darkness fell.

After waking from anesthesia, Jiang Min immediately sought out Gu Jihuan. She had learned about Gu Jihuan’s suspension from surgery earlier that morning.

“Since you’re off for a few days, wanna go out and have some fun?” Jiang Min suggested with a grin. “Remember those two bottles of Macallan you opened at the bar last time? They even gave us two bottles of Glenfiddich as a bonus. Let’s go crack them open and celebrate! We didn’t get to finish them last time.”

“Forget it. I’m suspended, but you’re one of Jianghuan’s busiest surgeons,” Gu Jihuan replied. She knew Jiang Min was trying to cheer her up, but she couldn’t drag her out drinking when Jiang Min had multiple surgeries scheduled for the next day.

“You know Liu Zhiping,” Jiang Min said. “He’s a slippery old fox, obsessed with climbing the ranks and making money.”

“Everywhere has people like that. I don’t care about him,” Gu Jihuan said, pressing the elevator button as her eyes gradually darkened. “What I didn’t expect was Vice President Zhou supporting his methods. And it’s clear this is the entire leadership’s stance at Jianghuan Hospital.”

Gu Jihuan continued, “Right now, I just want this matter to be resolved as quickly as possible.”

Jiang Min crunched on her lollipop. “If the official channels can’t resolve it, should we consider private means?”

“What kind of means?” Gu Jihuan frowned. “Don’t do anything reckless.”

“No, would I do something like that?” Jiang Min pondered for a moment. “I just mean… is it possible we could release a video, hire an online army, and win the public opinion war? That way, Liu Zhiping would have nothing to say.”

Gu Jihuan stared at Jiang Min for a long moment. “Do you think we can win a public opinion war against internet influencers?”

Jiang Min instantly deflated. “Forget it. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

These marketing accounts are professionals, skilled at manipulating public sentiment.

A lie spreads with a single word, but clearing it up requires endless effort.

By now, the audience had already formed a preconceived notion, convinced of the medical system’s corruption and Gu Jihuan’s villainy. They had been following the tide of public opinion, condemning her all day. Even if she issued a clarification now, they would never doubt what they had already accepted as truth.

As Gu Jihuan and Jiang Min chatted, the elevator reached the underground parking garage. The moment the doors opened, countless cameras swiveled toward them.

Doctor Gu, do you have any comments on today’s news?

Was Feng Chun’s surgery performed according to protocol? Was there any unnecessary medical intervention?

Jiang Min raised her hand to shield Gu Jihuan behind her. “We will not answer any questions.”

Gu Jihuan gripped Jiang Min’s arm and slowly retreated, slipping her hand into her pocket to quickly dial her emergency contact.

Within moments, Jianghuan Hospital’s security team arrived in the underground parking garage and cleared out the self-media marketing account reporters.

“Damn it! They exploited that one loophole in the underground parking garage to sneak in,” Jiang Min fumed, itching to punch them both.

After pulling Gu Jihuan forward a few steps, Jiang Min noticed her friend’s unusual behavior. Gu Jihuan had been silent the entire time, her fingertips icy cold.

Unable to suppress her concern, Jiang Min asked, “Jihuan, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Gu Jihuan replied, exhaling deeply.

For a fleeting moment, Gu Jihuan seemed to see the relentless figures from her father’s office, their shadows cornering her, cold sweat drenching her body.

“It’s settled. I’m taking you home,” Jiang Min said, pulling Gu Jihuan into the passenger seat. She refused to let Gu Jihuan go home alone.

Outside the window, night had fallen, and neon lights from skyscrapers refracted into a kaleidoscope of colors. Massive billboards flashed past.

Gu Jihuan’s gaze flickered. She lacked resources herself, but perhaps someone she knew did. The circles of the wealthy were always interconnected.

She found the number in her phone and sent a text: Do you have access to resources for hiring internet marketing campaign bots?

At Ludi Group, Lu Shinian and Lu Yuqiong sat across from each other in the office, eating dinner. A line graph displaying data reports covered the computer screen.

The meal on the table, a balanced mix of meat and vegetables, had been prepared by the family chef at Chen Yuefang’s request.

Lu Yuqiong bit into a garlic-flavored sparerib and said, “I managed to get you some internal medical data for reference.”

“Thank you,” Lu Shinian replied. He knew these internal documents were highly confidential, and Lu Yuqiong must have gone to great lengths to obtain them.

“We don’t need formalities between us,” Lu Yuqiong muttered, her eyes darting around. “Why don’t we talk about your breakup yesterday?”

Lu Shinian: “……” She suddenly regretted sending that text yesterday, having underestimated Lu Yuqiong’s gossipy nature.

Buzz buzz. Just as the awkward silence thickened, Lu Shinian’s phone vibrated twice on the table, saving her from further embarrassment.

She picked up her phone and saw the message on the screen. Her eyes blinked once, then blinked again.

She had been agonizing all day about how to continue the conversation with someone who clearly disliked the Lu Family.

Yet now, the other party had reached out first.

Lu Shinian glanced down to reply with two quick messages, then said to Lu Yuqiong, “I’ll forward you someone. She seems to need resources from entertainment marketing accounts.”

“Oh, that? I’m good at that,” Lu Yuqiong said, her attention successfully diverted.

She specialized in internet entertainment, including gaming and social media—this was her comfort zone.

The contact she received had a cartoon cat avatar and a username that read “Doesn’t Like Mangoes.”

After the request was approved, a message arrived from the other party: “[Hello, my name is Gu Jihuan. I need your help managing a public opinion crisis].”

“Pfft—” Lu Yuqiong nearly choked on her food. She hadn’t even added Gu Jihuan’s personal contact information yet, but Lu Shinian had already managed to do so.

What kind of plot twist is this? she wondered. Could Lu Shinian have been planning this all along?

Wait a minute… judging by Lu Shinian’s tone, he should have a girlfriend.

With this thought in mind, Lu Yuqiong cautiously asked, “Shinian, what do you think about me trying to pursue Gu Jihuan?”

“I don’t have any thoughts on it,” Lu Shinian replied casually. “If you like her, go for it. I wouldn’t compete with you anyway.”

Lu Yuqiong nodded and quickly typed a reply: “[Hello, I’m Lu Yuqiong from Shengxing Media. I can handle any public opinion crisis for you].”

She’s already helping me solve a major problem on our first meeting, Lu Yuqiong thought smugly. My starting point will always be higher than Lu Bei’s.