46. The So-Called Idol
The simplest way to approach this test is exactly as Director Yu suggested: patience and meticulousness are key. As long as you can calm yourself, copying one digit at a time while checking each character carefully, there shouldn’t be any major issues.
The only problem is that very few people possess such patience.
So, when some participants filled in the answers according to what they thought was the correct sequence, they realized—was there a missing box on the answer sheet? Yet when they raised their hands to ask Director Yu, all they received was a mysterious smile.
"The test results will be announced tomorrow morning. Regardless of the outcome, I hope everyone will carry forward the attention to detail, patience, and perseverance shown today throughout their lives.”
“Perseverance brings achievement.”
...
Chen Ruowen put away her phone, trimmed the video she had just recorded of Director Yu’s speech, and sent it to Bai Jinyan.
“Your idol—come and worship.”
The reply came quickly.
“Director Yu? Are you sick?”
In her effort to create a big surprise, Chen Ruowen hadn’t told Bai Jinyan or anyone in their circle about her participation in the winter camp; she simply claimed that she had to return to manage the family business because there were many year-end meetings at Gemini Group.
So, when Bai Jinyan suddenly saw Director Yu on Chen Ruowen’s side, her immediate reaction was concern for Chen Ruowen’s health—perhaps she was seriously ill, and instead of seeking out He Wanqin, she visited the long-retired Director Yu?
You’re the one who’s sick...
Chen Ruowen muttered a few words and was about to reply, when Bai Jinyan’s call came through.
As soon as her screen lit up, Chen Ruowen quickly hung up, darting a glance around. Luckily, the ringtone hadn’t sounded yet, and everyone was engrossed in Director Yu’s speech, so no one noticed her.
“I’m in a meeting—can’t take calls right now.”
There was a pause on the other end.
“Director Yu...?”
Chen Ruowen thought for a moment. “He’s a special guest, I suppose.”
Inviting Director Yu as a special guest? That sounded a bit far-fetched, but considering Chen Ruowen’s character... If something serious was happening, she wouldn’t keep it secret.
Plus, Dr. He had confirmed half a month ago that everything was fine with her health. With that in mind, Bai Jinyan decided to trust Chen Ruowen’s explanation.
“He’s not my idol,” Bai Jinyan replied.
---
“You’re planning to apply to Southern Medical University, aren’t you?” Chen Ruowen asked, slightly puzzled. “A professor at Southern Medical, director of the First Southern Hospital—isn’t that enough to qualify as your idol?”
There was no reply for quite a while. Only after Director Yu announced the end of the meeting and people began gathering their things and leaving did Chen Ruowen’s phone buzz again.
Bai Jinyan sent a photo.
A man’s portrait.
The man looked about as old as Director Yu, but lacked his vitality: his hair was messy, his beard unkempt, and he appeared weary—yet his smile was brilliant.
“He’s my idol.”
Chen Ruowen studied the photo for a long time, trying to link this face to any famous doctor from the major hospitals in Southern City—without success. The man was a complete stranger.
“Who’s this?”
“Jiang Yi.”
Chen Ruowen: ...
At least send a brief profile! Just a common name—there must be thousands of people called Jiang Yi. Who on earth is he?
“He was also a student at Southern Medical, but dropped out after only a year of his master’s program. Then he returned to the mountain villages of Qiancheng to treat people.”
Qiancheng is a small city in the southwest of Hua Nation; its city center is decent, but the surrounding villages are harsh and impoverished—some of the most backward places in the country. Judging by his age, Jiang Yi must have dropped out twenty or thirty years ago, when conditions were even worse.
Back then, a master’s degree was even more valuable.
A promising medical student dropping out to become a rural doctor?
That truly takes courage.
“He was a traveling doctor in the mountains for ten years, treating the poorest patients and never accepting a penny. Twenty years ago, when Doctors Without Borders came to Hua Nation, he joined MSF, traveling to even poorer countries and regions in need of medical aid.
Jiang Yi once said, ‘Medicine is the baseline for human survival. If it cannot serve the lowest classes, how can it truly drive humanity forward?’ Compared to Director Yu, who enjoys fame and fortune in first-tier city hospitals, Jiang Yi is the one I admire.”
A barefoot doctor... Doctors Without Borders...
Chen Ruowen admitted that such a person was indeed admirable, but knowing that reserved Bai Jinyan harbored such lofty ambitions made her feel uneasy.
“You’re not going to say... you want to follow your idol’s path and become a great doctor advancing humanity, are you?”
The reply came quickly.
---
“Do you think my parents would let me?”
“Definitely not.”
Chen Ruowen said sincerely. Not only Bai Jinyan—even she herself would never let Bai Jinyan do such a thing.
Doctors Without Borders sounds heroic, but the dangers are not something most people can bear.
These people are stationed for years in remote, backward regions plagued by violent attacks and constant threats to life, facing violence, disease, hunger, and even death—not for fame or fortune, but for salvation.
Bai Jinyan regards people like Jiang Yi as idols; many medical students take them as their faith, but not everyone can endure the harsh conditions, unpaid work, and constant risk.
Even if they’re willing, family and friends would not consent.
Precisely because of this, those who bear ordinary people’s hopes and admiration, enduring hardship and forging ahead, are worthy of being called idols.
Chen Ruowen had never paid much attention to such groups. Today, Bai Jinyan brought them up, and she suddenly realized that such people exist. She didn’t know what she could do for them, nor how best to support Bai Jinyan’s “spiritual” ambitions.
She considered what she had in abundance, then sent a message to her personal financial advisor, transferring ten million from her private account as a donation to the organization.
Usually, she swiped the supplementary card under Chen Liwan’s name for purchases; ten million was a substantial sum for her private account.
And all this, just because of a few careless words from Bai Jinyan.
“Is Jiang Yi still with MSF? Which country is he in now?”
“Hua Nation.”
Hua Nation?
Chen Ruowen sent a question mark.
As far as she knew, MSF had no projects in Hua Nation. Apart from publicity, they wouldn’t come to such a safe, world-class country. In Hua Nation—was he retired due to age?
This time, the pause was longer before two short messages arrived.
“He’s dead.”
“Three years ago, a terrorist group in Black Nation attacked the camp where Jiang Yi was carrying out a rescue mission. All thirty-nine Doctors Without Borders present were killed.”