Chapter 12

New book uploaded, seeking favorites and recommendations.

"Shouldn't we rebel in the Qing Dynasty? There's a famous saying online: If you travel back to the Qing and don't rebel, you might as well stick a drill in your ass."

"Haha, sticking a drill in your ass, that's quite amusing. But I'm a medical student, not a political one. How could I rebel? Have you ever heard of a doctor rebelling?"

"Yes, Sun Yat-sen was a medical student, wasn't he?"

"Uh, that's true, but rebelling seems quite expensive. So, I should get rich first."

"Then what?"

"Of course, I should get married and start a family! Haven't you heard the saying: get rich, start a family, govern the country, and bring peace to the world? And in the Qing Dynasty, you can have multiple wives..."

Sitting in the obstetrics office of Oumeng Hospital, Zhu Jishi's mind replayed the conversation he had with Ye Yiren on the plane that day. At the time, it was just a joke to pass the time, but now these jokes had become the action plan for Zhu Jishi after his穿越 (time travel).

Regardless of whether to rebel against Emperor Daoguang—considering this issue now is meaningless. Zhu Jishi didn't dare to believe in the good fortune of rallying a crowd with a single call. Even if he were to return to China to start a revolution in the future, he would need a strong economic foundation. So, after solving the problems of food and accommodation in 1842, Zhu Jishi's next goal was very clear: to become famous!

Uh, shouldn't it be to get rich?

Of course not, because getting rich isn't as easy as it seems. Although the current Britain is in the "early stage of capitalism," the easiest time to get rich, Zhu Jishi has no background, no capital, and no good looks. Without fame, how could he become wealthy? Even if he could create a panacea, without fame, he wouldn't attract "venture capital" and wouldn't be able to sell it.

Hmm, no good looks? Is Zhu Jishi an ugly guy? Of course not! In fact, he is quite handsome, which is why he was able to date Ye Yiren, a girl from a wealthy family (in modern Shanghai, this would be several large apartments in the city center). However, in 1842 London, his yellow skin and black hair were a significant obstacle to his rise, as not everyone was as free from racial prejudice as the prostitutes in the British working-class districts.

After publishing several articles in The Lancet, there was quite a stir in the London medical community. The medical theories he proposed about blood types, disinfection, and cesarean surgery were decades ahead of their time! The members of the Royal College of Physicians quickly noticed Zhu Jishi's theories, and a few of them, with their self-righteous airs, even visited Oumeng Hospital to hear the young doctor's theories in person.

However, when these people discovered that Zhu Jishi was an Easterner, his theories were quickly met with various doubts, which soon extended from the medical field to the field of anthropology... Some even questioned whether the Royal College of Physicians should have issued a medical license to Zhu Jishi!

Thinking of the annoying faces of those self-proclaimed authorities, Zhu Jishi felt a surge of anger. Fortunately, his immediate superior, Frank Hahn, gave him a lot of encouragement at this critical moment and even put him in charge of the most important and deadliest department in Oumeng Hospital: obstetrics.

His exact words were: "Jason, you can only fight back with facts. Although the entire medical community in England is questioning your theories, this doesn't mean they will completely deny the truth. If you can prove that your theories are correct, you will eventually gain recognition from the entire European medical community!

So now, start from the obstetrics department of Oumeng Hospital and implement your theories about disinfection, surgery, and blood transfusion... It's really a headache, but the current maternal mortality rate in the obstetrics department of Oumeng Hospital is over 20%!"

"Over 20%!" Zhu Jishi looked at Frank Hahn in disbelief.

"Yes, at least 5% of pregnant women die from difficult labor, and another 18% or more die from the damned puerperal fever!" Frank Hahn smoked his pipe, looking completely unperturbed, showing no sign of guilt. "Jason, if you can reduce the maternal mortality rate at Oumeng Hospital by half, I think even the old stubborn members of the Royal College of Physicians will publish articles in The Lancet praising your medical skills."

5% of pregnant women die from difficult labor, and 18% or more die from puerperal fever, with a mortality rate 8 percentage points higher than what Blumstein mentioned... Is this really a hospital? It's more like an execution ground for pregnant women! Such a high mortality rate is not only shocking compared to the modern era but also compared to the backward Qing Dynasty! It seems that Frank Hahn is also a doctor who has made a significant contribution to controlling the British population.

However, this situation is very favorable for building his reputation in a foreign land... In the modern era, the mortality rate for puerperal fever, or puerperal sepsis, is only a few per hundred thousand!

...

While Zhu Jishi was racking his brain to become famous, in the Royal College of Physicians, a few people were already seated in the meeting room. The self-proclaimed best gunshot wound doctor in England, Karl Blumstein, and the fat man, Churchill, who Zhu Jishi had operated on, were sitting stiffly, not daring to breathe loudly in front of two elderly gentlemen with impeccable and impeccable gentlemanly manners.

The ones who invited Churchill and Blumstein to the Royal College of Physicians today were Sir Reed and Sir Hob, the former being the court physician of Queen Victoria and the president of the Royal College of Physicians, and the latter the director of the Anglican Hospital in England and a towering figure in the medical community of Britain and Europe. The reason these two medical giants took the time to meet Blumstein and Churchill was because of a Tartar doctor who had recently caused a stir in the London medical community—Jason Zhu!

Sir Reed and Sir Hob found it a bit strange that an unknown Tartar doctor had proposed a medical theory, "blood type theory," which could potentially win the Copley Medal. If this theory could be clinically verified, the long-standing "blood transfusion problem" in the world of medicine would be solved! This young Tartar doctor could become a "titan" in the medical community, on par with the two of them! If this guy were a white person, the entire European medical community would probably celebrate the rise of this new star!

However, there is not much racial discrimination in the medical community (or the scientific community). The discovery of this Tartar doctor will eventually be recognized by the Royal College of Physicians and the Royal Society, but it will take a long time.

If this Tartar doctor had only proposed the theory of "blood types and blood transfusion therapy," Sir Reed and Sir Hob would feel a bit regretful—such a great scientific discovery being made by an Asian. But it's not a big deal, not enough to make these two most authoritative figures in the British medical community show an expression of anger unbecoming of their status. What made them and most members of the Royal College of Physicians angry was another theory proposed by this Tartar doctor. This Tartar doctor actually believed that the dirty environment of hospitals and doctors not washing their hands thoroughly before surgery and not disinfecting surgical instruments were important reasons for many patients developing post-surgical infections, high fevers, and deaths!

Isn't this equivalent to saying that they, these gentleman doctors, are all murderers who take human lives lightly? Who does this Tartar doctor think he is? How dare he propose such a shocking theory! It seems that if they don't teach him a lesson, this Tartar doctor will really think this is their Siberian steppe!

Thinking of this, the two knights exchanged a glance. The older Sir Hob's face had already turned ashen, about to explode, but the younger Sir Reed was more reasonable. He looked at Blumstein and Churchill, "Doctor Blumstein, Mr. Churchill, please tell us every detail of the surgery the Tartar doctor performed that day..." He then turned to look at Sir Hob, "Sir, let's understand the situation first before deciding whether to give this Tartar doctor a chance to repent."

Sir Hob snorted lightly, "Then give him one last chance!"

Page break for AD start

Page break for AD end