Chapter 2564 - The New Medical Records
"The pastries are all made at the factory. This shop doesn't have a preparation room—only a warehouse."
"Then let me see the warehouse."
The assistant's smile never wavered. "May I ask which department you're from, Elder? If you're with the Health Department, I'll need to see your credentials. Under the Food Sanitation Management Law, unauthorized personnel aren't permitted in food storage areas."
The polite but firm rebuff caught Zheng Mingjiang off guard. After all, she had personally led the drafting of that very regulation.
Still, for a mere shop to cite health codes at an Elder—this walnut place was the first to have such nerve. She had to give them credit.
She produced her Health Ministry credentials at once. Food safety currently fell under the Ministry's purview, with enforcement handled by the sanitary police of the National Police. This was squarely within her jurisdiction.
"Right this way, then." The assistant maintained his pleasant demeanor as he led her inside.
After completing her spot inspection, Zheng Mingjiang and her secretary settled into an elegant seat on the second floor. By old timeline standards, the sanitary conditions were merely adequate. But having wandered the streets all morning, they were hungry, so she reluctantly sampled a few items. Traditional pastries and candies tended toward heavy sugar and heavier oil—regardless of what hygiene standards they met, they weren't to her taste. What she did enjoy was Zhang's salted lemon soda water, which captured something of the flavor of a Guangdong tea restaurant from the old timeline.
Her secretary Jingshan, on the other hand, was delighted by everything. Nearly all naturalized citizens and natives shared this fondness for traditional pastries. Before leaving, Zheng Mingjiang had the assistant pack several dozen boxes of assorted confections for delivery to the guesthouse.
Afterward, she took her secretary to browse the jewelry shops in the Great World.
"Jingshan, today's your birthday. Pick whatever catches your eye." Zheng Mingjiang settled into a seat at the jewelry counter and made the generous offer. But when the manager eagerly displayed all their so-called finest pieces, disappointment set in. The Great World marketed itself as embodying the "Australian lifestyle," which meant nothing resembling the traditional handcrafted jewelry she'd imagined. Everything sold here was mass-produced industrial goods. Her plan to buy her secretary something representing the crystallization of seventeenth-century craftsmanship had fallen through.
"Never mind. I'll look around in Guangzhou proper sometime." The city was renowned for its traditional crafts—the seventeenth through nineteenth centuries had produced vast quantities of export pieces. Surely such specialty shops still existed there. After all, handicrafts remained an important export commodity.
The next day, Zheng Mingjiang arrived punctually at the Provincial-Hong Kong General Hospital. Lin Motian had already assembled the hospital's senior medical staff in the conference room to "welcome" her.
The most conspicuous items in the room were the two sealed cases she had brought from Lingao—supposedly "Lingao specialties sent by the Health Ministry."
Anyone could guess that while the specialties were real, they certainly weren't the kind anyone actually wanted.
Lin Motian watched with some amusement as the naturalized citizen doctors shifted nervously. In the eyes of natives and naturalized citizens alike, these men were miracle workers who could "regenerate flesh on bare bone." By old timeline standards, though, they were little more than well-meaning quacks.
What exactly was Zheng Mingjiang up to? Lin Motian found himself genuinely curious.
After the obligatory rounds of welcome, applause, speeches, and more applause, they finally reached the main topic.
The first case was opened. Zheng Mingjiang withdrew a blue hardcover notebook with "Medical Record Book" printed in large characters on the cover.
The book contained no bound pages—it was designed as a loose-leaf binder. Each was a standard size, with specialized index tabs and a simple instruction card on the outside.
"This is the latest version of the Lingao medical record book, incorporating numerous improvements over the previous edition. It should greatly enhance your workflow. Each notebook is numbered, so allocate and use them carefully. One per person. All medical record books must be properly preserved—not a single one can go missing. Medical records are a hospital's most priceless treasures. Someday, when you've all become distinguished professors and we've built a proper library, these records will form your legacy."
"Al—alright..." Xie Yao, the most senior physician at the Provincial-Hong Kong General Hospital, seemed taken aback. "Thank you to the Senate for thinking of us."
"Of course. Wherever sun and moon shine, wherever rivers flow—all lands share in the Senate's benevolence." Zheng Mingjiang's tone was matter-of-fact. "There's another matter I need everyone to understand. Previously, outpatient medical record books were kept by patients, with the hospital retaining only inpatient records. But outpatients frequently lose their books and simply buy new ones at their next visit, defeating the entire purpose of maintaining a medical history. Under the new system, the hospital keeps all records. Patients receive only a medical record number." She picked up a bamboo tablet tied to the medical record book, its surface branded with a number.
"This tablet is given to patients when they first receive their medical record book. Afterward, they need only present this number to register. When treating patients, write the medical record number along with the patient's name, sex, and age on the specialized loose-leaf paper. At each shift's end, the medical affairs department's archives room handles the filing."
She continued explaining the new procedures. "Of course, patients might misremember their number, which could cause administrative confusion. So currently, patients must present their tablet to register. If the tablet is lost, they must report it and reapply—with a handling fee, naturally."
Everyone caught the weight she placed on "handling fee." That sum would not be trivial.
Xie Yao raised his hand. "Do you have a question?" Zheng Mingjiang asked.
"What if someone uses another person's tablet to register?"
"An excellent question. This situation could certainly occur. Our current solution is that doctors concern themselves only with the number, not the identity. Verification falls to the archives room, which performs a four-way check: number, name, age, and sex. If the information on the loose-leaf doesn't match the registration in the medical record book, the page receives a 'doubtful' stamp but is still filed, alerting the physician."
Complete prevention was likely impossible. However, those who could afford to register at the Provincial-Hong Kong General Hospital probably wouldn't bother borrowing someone else's tablet. After all, anyone could obtain their own after a single registration and payment, and using another's tablet offered no cost advantage.
...
Zheng Mingjiang continued at length about the new procedures and their specific details, taking about an hour. Only after she'd covered everything did Xie Yao finally exhale. He quickly summoned several helpers to move the two large cases of medical record books out of the room.
"Coming from so far, I didn't bring personal gifts for everyone. But I picked up some pastries from Zhang's Food Shop in the Great World—one portion each. Something to stave off hunger during your shifts."
The harmonious atmosphere brought by the pastries didn't last long.
"Xie Yao, this afternoon I want everyone to bring their current medical record books back to the conference room. I'll be instructing you on the new documentation standards. Don't always bury yourselves in work—take time to learn and reflect."
Sure enough, the entire afternoon found Zheng Mingjiang providing intensive guidance to the junior residents on proper medical record keeping. Thanks to the Senate's resource-strapped medical education, these residents could only be described as barely adequate.
"When I'm old, who's going to treat me?" Zheng Mingjiang sighed, then added a pointed grumble about Shi Niaoren: "What good is a leader who can't recruit students?"
Sighing was one thing, but it didn't stop her from delivering thorough instruction. That evening, she divided the medical record books before her into three piles: superior, middling, and inferior. Pointing at the rightmost pile, she declared: "These are to be opened and posted on the classroom's outer wall, names displayed prominently—in large print. They'll hang there for six months."
"O-okay." Xie Yao felt he'd been stumbling over his words all day.
"Let this serve as a warning to everyone." Zheng Mingjiang then indicated the leftmost pile. "These are quite good. Keep up the excellent work. The Health Ministry is establishing a Jiren Scholarship—I'll submit your names." She copied down the owners' names with deliberate care.
"Alright, we've all worked hard this afternoon. Let's eat together—my treat."
But the doctors felt acutely that accepting Chief Zheng's dinner invitation might prove more trouble than it was worth. Some claimed duty shifts; others said they needed to hurry home and study, determined to pierce their thighs with awls rather than fail the Senate's cultivation efforts. In the end, Zheng Mingjiang had no choice but to track down Lin Motian.
"Absolutely!" Lin Motian agreed at once. "Zhang Xiao said he's treating tonight. I'm free, and so is Fu Qiliang—why don't the three of us go take advantage of his hospitality?"
When Zhang Xiao's group arrived at the Provincial-Hong Kong General Hospital shortly after, Lin Motian had just finished signing a document on his clipboard and was handing it off to his assistant. Spotting Zhang Xiao, he called out: "Well, well! What wind blew County Magistrate Zhang our way? Our humble hospital is truly honored!"
"Come on, Old Lin, stop teasing me." Zhang Xiao laughed. "Coming here means I'll owe you a favor."
"Oh? What's this about? Consider it done."
"Yesterday Zhang Jiayu brought a note from Old Du but couldn't find you anywhere. He actually tracked me down outside the lavatory at Nanhai Academy and cornered me there, so I had no choice but to come in person."
Lin Motian often joked that his "political instincts" weren't particularly sharp. Hearing this, he felt genuinely puzzled—had he offended some Elder again? He turned to his assistant. "Did this happen?"
The young woman looked guilty. "Director Lin, you weren't in yesterday evening. I left the note on your desk."
Lin Motian's irritation showed. "Why didn't you remind me?"
She hung her head and said nothing. But inwardly she thought: I put it right on your desk, in the most obvious spot!
"Alright, Old Lin, saving the person is what matters." Zhang Xiao smoothed things over. "The girl is still learning—you can coach her later. I've also got a Councillor Huang with me who took quite a beating. Have a doctor examine him too. I don't think it's anything serious, but we should take this matter seriously, very seriously..."
"Fine, I'll have someone examine him right away and prepare some muscle-relaxing, blood-activating medicine."
(End of Chapter)