Chapter 187: Douglas Carter's Command Struck Like Thunder

"Step forward!" Douglas Carter's command struck like thunder, igniting a spark of hope in Dr. Zhao's eyes as he slumped on the floor.

At last, he could be free.

It wasn’t that he lacked compassion—he simply couldn’t bear the responsibility. With only three months left until retirement, a disciplinary action over this medical mishap would cost him not just his job, but his pension. His paralyzed wife and college-bound grandson depended on him.

When faced with life and death, self-preservation is human instinct.

Dr. Zhao shut his eyes in anguish, guilt weighing heavy on his conscience—yet relief washed over him.

Without hesitation, Elena Ward retrieved a silver needle from her bag. "Alcohol swabs," she said calmly.

The ward fell deathly silent. No one dared move.

Assisting Elena now meant defying the hospital director.

"H-Here." A trembling voice came from the back. Intern Claire Lee pushed forward, hands shaking as she held out the disinfectant supplies. Despite her fear, she stood firmly beside Elena.

Elena gave her a faint smile. She didn’t blame the others. Having worked here only three months, she barely knew anyone except Claire. This small act of support was enough.

"Elena!" Director Carter suddenly spoke. "Do you understand the consequences of this?"

Elena didn’t look up. "Director, we’re doctors. If we hesitate to save lives over consequences, what’s the point of our oath?"

The words struck like a hammer, jolting Director Carter’s heart. Thirty years ago, fresh out of medical school, she too had acted without hesitation. When had she grown so cautious?

"Wait!" Director Carter called out.

Elena paused, the needle glinting coldly in her fingers.

Director Carter removed her own white coat and draped it solemnly over Elena’s shoulders. "From now on, you represent Northland Central Hospital. Dr. Ward, you’re doing the right thing."

Scattered applause broke out, growing louder until it filled the ward.

Dr. Victor Cole slumped to the floor in defeat. He had lost—to a rookie. In the face of true medical ethics, his pride in his skills meant nothing.

Elena took a deep breath and steadied the needle, inserting it precisely into the child’s pressure point. The room was so quiet, breaths could be heard.

Claire suddenly rushed out, returning with a cup of warm sugar water and a chocolate bar, standing silently nearby.

Ten minutes later, Elena withdrew the needle, her face ghostly pale, her body swaying. Douglas Carter caught her, shocked by how icy her hands felt.

"Uncle Carter?" A weak voice came from the bed.

Everyone froze.

The little girl’s eyes fluttered open, confused.

"She’s awake! She’s really awake!" Someone shouted, and the ward erupted. Doctors and nurses embraced, some even crying.

Dr. Zhao clapped hard, the applause spreading like wildfire from the ward to the hallway, thundering through the entire Traditional Medicine Department.

"Run tests!" Director Carter ordered, eyes red. Medical staff swarmed the bed.

The little girl, frightened by the commotion, burst into tears. "Mommy! I want Mommy!"

A woman shoved through the crowd, clutching her child. "Nina! My baby!"

"Mommy, no more needles..."

"No more, never again," the mother sobbed, holding her tighter.