Chapter 801 - Guo Fu

Among all the nurses and trainee doctors at the Sanya Health Station, Guo Fu was Hippo's primary protégé. This was partly because Hippo had ulterior motives, but she also stood head and shoulders above all the naturalized medical personnel in Sanya—both in professional skill and in her credentials as a first-cohort nursing graduate.

Hippo frequently brought her along to assist in outpatient consultations and had her serve as his surgical assistant. Such frequent interaction built rapport and intimacy. Their relationship developed quickly, and Guo Fu's respect and admiration for Doctor Hippo grew with each passing day.

Sanya had its own basic operating room, capable of performing simple surgical procedures—appendectomies and the like posed no problem. More complex surgeries could also be done, but the facility lacked certain essential examination and surgical support equipment, and Guo Fu was not a qualified anesthesiologist. Yet the surgical caseload was heavy—the population base and working conditions guaranteed that. Under this intense practical training, Guo Fu's skills improved rapidly. Her memory was excellent; she memorized medical texts far more easily than Hippo, who as a medical student had once suffered terribly under that burden.

"Studying modern—no, Australian medicine—means memorizing books first. Endless memorization," Hippo said after a private tutoring session, handing her an assignment. "Memorize this book."

Guo Fu had never known that becoming a doctor meant facing so many books—and every one of them a thick tome. She silently accepted it and flipped through; it was full of terms she didn't understand at all. A look of difficulty crossed her face.

"I don't understand it..."

"That's why I'm telling you to memorize it. Once you've got it in your head, I'll teach you."

Guo Fu nodded. She was filled with reverence for this Elder doctor's medical skills. "I'll memorize it."

"One section per day. Come recite it to me every morning," Hippo said sternly. "No recitation, no breakfast."

"Yes, Teacher." Guo Fu's cheeks grew warm—Teacher Hippo's threat somehow carried a sweet sensation.

That morning, Guo Fu woke early—naturalized citizens all shared this habit. Even though she'd been on duty until midnight the night before, she was still up at six o'clock sharp. Medical staff in Sanya worked three shifts: morning, afternoon, and night. Night shifts had minimal staffing; most people worked the 7:00–17:00 morning shift or the 17:00–24:00 evening shift.

Hippo's working hours were entirely self-determined—in practice, he was essentially on call around the clock. Consequently, Guo Fu's hours were long too. She not only saw patients and assisted with surgeries alongside Hippo, but also made rounds in the inpatient ward and taught nursing fundamentals to the junior staff. Every waking moment was devoted to work.

Since becoming a nurse, Guo Fu had formed the habit of bathing twice daily—morning and evening. The Health Station had its own shower facility, with hot water continuously supplied by the station's dedicated boiler, exclusively for medical personnel. Guo Fu looked down on the female medics from the short-term training courses. They all held Grade-C diplomas. Most were clumsy and fumbling; even after repeated lessons in basic nursing, they still made mistakes. Their sense of cleanliness and hygiene was poor—it had to be emphasized again and again.

Carrying a basket of fresh clothes, she entered the bathhouse. The changing room was empty; the dim light of early dawn filtered through the small ventilation windows near the ceiling. The night-shift nurses hadn't yet clocked out, and the morning shift hadn't arrived. It was the quietest time of day. Wooden shelves lined the walls, hung with numbered bamboo tags. At shift change and during training sessions, the shelves would be packed with clothing baskets—the female medics assigned to labor squads also used these facilities. Guo Fu placed her basket on the shelf and hung a bamboo tag around her neck. At the entrance to the shower room was a basket filled with gleditsia bean pods—shipped from Changhua, they were currently the main substitute for household soap.

Bamboo partitions divided the shower stalls, though these were purely for hygiene rather than modesty. Hot water was abundant in the early morning, with few people using facilities at this hour. She enjoyed a long, leisurely shower. Afterward, she took a mirror from her basket—barely larger than her palm—and hung it on a hook in the changing room.

There was a full-length dressing mirror mounted on the changing room wall, large enough to reflect her whole body. Guo Fu's own mirror was small, but it was an "export-grade" product in an exquisite tortoiseshell frame, and far clearer than the large wall mirror. Of course, Hippo had purchased it at "factory price"—infinitely cheaper than what it would cost in Guangzhou.

This was a gift Hippo had given her a few days ago—ostensibly as a reward for her teaching nursing to the medics. But Guo Fu's maiden heart knew that wasn't the real reason. Just as when she failed to recite a section, Teacher Hippo would gently tap her head with the book.

"I know, Teacher," Guo Fu murmured, staring at the innocent-looking girl in the mirror, stroking her own cheek as though speaking to herself—or perhaps conversing with her reflection. "But is this really all right?"

She gazed dreamily at her reflection: bobbed hair at ear level, a sleeveless short chemise in the Australian style exposing her delicate collarbones—she couldn't help but touch them lightly. A flush crept across her face.

To be loved by Teacher Hippo, whom she had always revered and admired—that was happiness. And yet, as a pure and innocent maiden, Guo Fu struggled to resist Hippo's masculine charm—like a lamb trembling under the wolf's kiss. What would her respected Teacher Hippo do to her? Even her earlobes flushed red.

The steam whistle jolted her from her reverie. She touched her hot face and quickly took down the mirror, as if to hide something, then hurriedly dressed.

The Health Department's nurse uniform was a standard short-sleeved blue fitted dress with a cape-style shawl for winter. The style was simple and elegant; paired with the iconic nurse's cap, it was the Elders' favorite fantasy outfit.

Guo Fu's cap bore a single horizontal stripe, marking her as a Head Nurse. This was the ranking system the Health Department had established for nurses: one horizontal stripe for Head Nurse, two for Section Head Nurse, three for Nursing Department Director. Diagonal stripes on the cap indicated technical rank: one for Staff Nurse, two for Senior Nurse, three for Deputy Chief Nurse, and four for Chief Nurse.

This was no time for idle daydreaming, Guo Fu told herself. Morning rounds were coming up, then class. She didn't know what new material Teacher Hippo would teach today. After a short break, it would be time for outpatient training...

Once dressed, she carefully pinned the nurse's cap to her hair with hairpins. Guo Fu examined herself in the dressing mirror; the girl inside was still breathing heavily, the flush that had spread to her ears not yet faded. She covered her face with her hands. After waiting quietly for a few more minutes, she left the bathhouse.

The Sanya Health Station was classified as a Level 3 facility. According to the medical institution classification system devised by Shi Niaoren: any facility staffed with one Elder doctor was automatically Level 3; those with locally trained naturalized doctors and nurses qualified as Level 2. The lowest Level 1 facilities were those run jointly with Runshitang, relying mainly on traditional Chinese medicine—the Health Department merely provided some pharmaceutical support.

In scale, it ranked second only to the General Hospital and the Ma'ao Army General Hospital. Li Haiping, wanting to boost the Navy's prestige, had unilaterally hung a plain wooden sign reading "Sanya Navy General Hospital" next to the Health Station's official sign. In reality, like the Army General Hospital, this facility had nothing to do with the military—it was entirely under the Health Department's jurisdiction.

The medical and epidemic-prevention workload was heavy. Though malaria had been effectively controlled, work-related injuries remained frequent. Hippo performed two or three surgeries per week; minor surgical procedures like wound debridement and suturing happened almost daily—excellent training for a nurse's surgical skills. Guo Fu's suturing technique had now reached a level where she could demonstrate and lecture to juniors and medics.

Hippo hadn't appeared yet. Guo Fu knew the Elders habitually took midday naps; Health Department Elders, with their irregular schedules, would sleep in through the morning as long as there were no emergencies, consultations, or rounds. Today the inpatient ward had few patients, and none requiring "priority attention." Guo Fu could handle rounds herself—checking temperatures and the like.

The night-shift nurse in the ward was named Bai Jie, a third-cohort student from Fangshaodi's nursing program. Third-cohort nurses hadn't actually graduated yet; their time in Sanya counted as internship, and they had to attend classes and training after their shifts. In Sanya, medical personnel had no leisure time—all free hours were devoted to study: classes or self-study—meaning memorization.

Seeing Guo Fu enter the inpatient ward, Bai Jie—bleary-eyed after an all-night shift—hurried to stand and greet her:

"Sister Guo." Bai Jie was actually much older than Guo Fu, already in her twenties. But she was a junior; here at the Sanya Health Station, Guo Fu was both her teacher and her superior. And the Health Department, apart from the military, had the clearest hierarchy among all naturalized-citizen departments.

"Any incidents?"

"No emergencies," Bai Jie said. "Everything normal."

Guo Fu reviewed the shift log, then rechecked the patrol records at each bedside. Bai Jie had been very thorough—though her handwriting was uneven, it was clearly written with care.

While she was busy with this, the bell in the inpatient duty room suddenly began to ring—the signal for an emergency at outpatient, urgently summoning a doctor.

She immediately set down her clipboard. "I'll go check."

An early-morning emergency was rare. Few departments in Sanya worked night shifts, so work injuries at dawn were uncommon. She encountered two sturdy male orderlies in the corridor, running toward her with a stretcher. From their jogging pace, the patient clearly needed urgent medical attention. Behind the stretcher trailed seven or eight workers, half-running to keep up; several of them looked unwell, as if they too might need treatment.

Food poisoning? The term flashed through her mind first.

(End of Chapter)