Deputy Chief Physician of the Thoracic Surgery Department at the prestigious China-Japan Friendship Hospital, having an affair with the head nurse, bringing a lover onto the operating table, and leaving a patient under anesthesia unattended for 40 minutes—any one of these incidents would be enough to trend online. But what really stirred the waters is the "rocket-like rise" of Dong Mouying.

This young woman has a resume more surreal than a TV drama: a Columbia University undergraduate in economics, she returned to China and transformed into a participant in the Xiehe "4+4" pilot program, obtaining a medical doctorate in just four years. While others endure ten years of hard study in medicine, she took the "fast track" to the finish line, reducing her residency from three years to one, with papers spanning imaging, gastroenterology, and neurosurgery, and after just two years of practical experience, she dares to perform level four surgeries. Netizens discovered that her thesis acknowledgment section listed a group of academicians, and the rapid removal of her thesis from CNKI added to the suspicion.

The Xiehe "4+4" program was originally aimed at cultivating interdisciplinary talents, but now it is being roasted under public scrutiny. Traditional medical students toil for years in the "5+3+4" system, while the likes of Dong Mouying can cross fields directly; it’s no wonder some self-deprecatingly say, "Ten years of hard study is not as good as choosing the right path." What’s even more heartbreaking is that the first batch of graduates faced discrimination during employment due to insufficient clinical rotation, and this innovative "medicine + X" concept finds itself stuck between ideals and reality.

But what truly strikes a chord with the public is the anxiety for safety under the shadow of privilege. When the lead surgeon in the operating room abandons their responsibilities for a lover, and the residency training system devolves into a bargaining chip for power and sex, who still dares to entrust their life to the operating table? The bold statement on the Xiehe official website about "cultivating great medical talents" seems particularly ironic in front of patients whose blood oxygen saturation has dropped to 90%.

This storm has long exceeded the realm of scandalous news, exposing the hidden ailments of the medical system: Is the academic evaluation system being held hostage by resources? Has the residency training system devolved into a game of personal favors? When the halo of the "genius girl" requires the backing of privilege, and when the sanctuary of healing breeds a bed of power and sex, perhaps we should ask: Why should patients pay the price for the trial-and-error costs of medical education reform with their lives?