After being separated from my family, I became a darling of the military region thanks to my medical

The observation room of the first operating room at the General Hospital of Beijing Military Region.

The small room, less than 20 square meters, was crammed together like a sardine can. The heavy cotton curtains kept out the cold wind from outside, but couldn't stop the scorching heat inside, which felt like it was about to catch fire.

Hans and Kraus from Siemens, at this moment, had completely lost any of the gentlemanly demeanor of foreign experts. Their two pale faces were practically pressed against the radiation-proof glass, and their breath spread out in puffs of white mist on the glass, which they wiped clean again and again.

Dr. Zhao Degong, the president of Shanghai First People's Hospital, held his precious purple clay teacup, his fingertips tapping anxiously on the lid. The tea inside had long since gone cold, but he hadn't even taken a sip.

"Nonsense, this is utter nonsense..."

Zhao Degong stared at the operating table, lowering his voice, his tone revealing the helplessness and despair unique to doctors of that era, "Total anomalous pulmonary venous return, and the most deadly obstructive type at that. In Shanghai, this would be a disease that sends the family straight to the supply and marketing cooperative to buy cloth for a funeral shroud. This isn't surgery; it's snatching a person from the clutches of the Grim Reaper!"

Sitting in the back row, Guard Xiao Wang frowned as he listened. He was about to stand up and argue when a large hand pressed down on his shoulder.

On his wrist was a slightly worn Shanghai brand steel watch, the dial reflecting a cold light under the lamp.

Gu Zheng, dressed in a crisp military overcoat, casually crossed his long legs, his entire body sunk into the narrow wooden chair, yet he exuded the imposing aura of someone commanding a central military tent. He slightly tilted his head, glancing sideways at Zhao Degong, his gaze sharp as a newly sharpened bayonet, carrying shards of ice:

"Dean Zhao, you've come all this way, are you here to pay that 300 yuan tuition fee, or to sing funeral songs?"

Zhao Degong's face twitched violently, and he was so embarrassed he almost dropped his cup: "Commander Gu... I'm just telling the truth. This kind of vascular deformity, where the blood vessels are a complete mess, even a god would shake his head..."

That's you.

Gu Zheng coldly interrupted, his gaze sweeping over the crowd and landing once more on the slender yet upright figure on the operating table. The icy coldness in his eyes instantly melted into a deep, unfathomable pool of gentle water. "Shut your mouth and watch the show."

The atmosphere inside the operating room was so cold it felt frozen.

It wasn't just because of the seriousness of the situation, but also because of the need for physical cooling. To protect the child's brain, Ye Zhen ordered a deep hypothermic circulatory shutdown procedure. At this moment, the operating table was piled high with ice packs, and chilling white air was rising straight up.

Dean Zhang Guohua stood in the assistant's seat, feeling his old bones trembling. Not from the cold, but from fear.

Ye Zhen's hands were too fast.

No, that wasn't speed; it was terrifying foresight. It was as if she held not a scalpel, but the script of death, knowing in advance where the bleeding would occur and where to dodge.

"Pericardial retractor, three millimeters to the right, make sure it doesn't block the light."

Ye Zhen didn't even look up; her cool voice echoed in the quiet operating room. The Meizenbaum scissors in her hands seemed to have a mind of their own, precisely hooking and slicing through the dense, tangled network of veins.

A faint buzzing sound rang out, and the bleeding point was instantly sealed off.

Zhang Guohua was drenched in sweat; despite the extremely low room temperature, his back was completely soaked. He realized that if he slowed down even by half a second, he would fall far behind Ye Zhen's pace.

The feeling was like he was riding a beat-up old bicycle, desperately trying to catch up with a Hongqi sedan with the accelerator floored.

He, a respected figure in the field who is over fifty years old and has performed thousands of surgeries, felt as clumsy as a greenhorn who had just started his internship at the hospital in front of this girl in her early twenties.

"Extracorporeal circulation established. Nasopharyngeal temperature 18°C, rectal temperature 20°C." The anesthesiologist's voice trembled as he stared intently at the monitor.

"Block the ascending aorta and infuse cardioplegic solution."

As the command was given, the small heart, which was originally deformed but still struggling to beat, slowly softened and slowed down within seconds, and finally stopped beating completely.

After losing blood, the heart appears a pale, grayish-yellow color, like a still wax figure, lifeless.

Klaus, in the observation room, suddenly covered his mouth and exclaimed in shock, "It stopped! My God, she only had less than 30 minutes! After that, the child's brain will turn to mush!"

Time is life. At this moment, every tick of the second hand feels like a blow to everyone's heart.

"Scalpel".

Ye Zhen stretched out her hand, which was long, fair, and steady like a marble sculpture.

The entire audience held their breath; not even a whisper could be heard.

She was facing a tangled mess of four pulmonary veins behind her heart. According to the standard surgical procedure in current textbooks, it should involve incision, widening, and suturing.

However, that approach has a fatal flaw—the scar tissue becomes too narrow after surgery. Even after the child survives the operation, they often don't live past adulthood.

Everyone stared at Ye Zhen's hands, eager to see how she would solve this seemingly impossible problem.

However, Ye Zhen did not use the scissors to cut it.

Her scalpel made a light, delicate cut in the pericardial tissue, as graceful as carving flowers on tofu.

"What...what is she doing?" Zhao Degong was pressed against the glass, his eyes wide open, not even bothering to fix his glasses which had slipped down. "She's using the posterior wall of the left atrium? Good heavens, is she playing with her heart like origami? This...this isn't written in any book!"

An uproar erupted in the observation room, with Hans frantically tearing at his hair: "This is insane! This is risky! This is utter recklessness!"

But Zhang Guohua, who was in the closest position, understood it in an instant.

Under the bright, dark light, he clearly saw Ye Zhen's operating logic—she was using a highly unique "sliding angioplasty." Utilizing the natural tension of her own pericardial tissue, she was constructing a completely new, smooth reflux channel, entirely avoiding the stenosis risks associated with artificial materials!

"Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!"

Zhang Guohua couldn't help but gasp during the surgery, completely forgetting his authority as the hospital director. His eyes were filled with fervent admiration as he looked at Ye Zhen. "This is a stroke of genius!"

Ye Zhen ignored him; her world consisted only of the flesh and blood in the small space before her.

When that needle goes in, the blood vessel wall is as thin as a cicada's wing, more fragile than the thinnest window paper. The slightest carelessness could result in tearing and massive bleeding.

But Ye Zhen's wrist was suspended in the air, and she could only exert force with her fingertips.

Insert the needle, remove the needle, and tie a knot.

The movements are fluid and seamless, without any superfluous actions, even possessing a breathtaking industrial aesthetic. The spacing of each stitch seems to have been measured with calipers, accurate to 0.1 millimeters.

There were no traditional sutures, no rough ligatures. Using this unheard-of "seamless technique," she carved out a path to life for the child right under the nose of death.

"She's racing against death..." Klaus muttered to himself, cold sweat dripping down his forehead and nose. "No, she's redefining the rules of cardiac surgery."