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

At 8 p.m., the small conference room on the third floor of the old office building of the Beicheng Military Region General Hospital was brightly lit.

The meeting room, which had originally been piled with old newspapers and broken tables and chairs, was now packed with people. Several department heads from other hospitals sat in the front row, followed by deputy directors from various hospitals and young doctors from the main hospital itself. Everyone held thick notebooks, wore glasses, and stared intently ahead.

Ye Zhen, wearing a white lab coat and holding half a piece of chalk, stood in front of a blackboard.

On the blackboard was an extremely detailed diagram of coronary artery anatomy, with smooth lines and key collateral circulation branches clearly marked in red chalk.

"During the second surgery this afternoon, we encountered severe stenosis in the mid-segment of the left anterior descending artery." Ye Zhen pointed to the red area on the blackboard with a wooden pointer, her voice echoing in the quiet conference room. "Traditional thinking holds that if the stenosis exceeds 80%, this segment of the vessel loses its value for reconstruction. But look at this anatomical position. By using microsurgical anastomosis techniques to make an incision here and take the great saphenous vein as a bypass vessel, we can not only restore blood supply but also minimize the risk of postoperative thrombosis."

The sound of pens taking notes filled the air. These big shots, who usually lectured others from the podium, were now like high school students cramming for exams, trying to memorize every word Ye Zhen said.

Director Wu raised his right hand.

Ye Zhen stopped pointing her pointer: "Director Wu, please speak."

"Dr. Ye," Director Wu stood up, his attitude extremely humble, completely abandoning his usual airs, "How do you overcome surgical field tremors during microsurgical anastomosis? This afternoon I saw you suturing that vein that was only two millimeters thick, and your hand didn't tremble at all. For us old folks, once we put on a high-powered magnifying glass, the tips of the forceps easily become shaky."

Ye Zhen put down her pointer and dusted off her hands.

"This is a matter of muscle memory and the point of force application when holding the weapon. Don't use your wrist to generate force while suspended in the air. Find a stable support point with your elbow and transfer the force to the pads of your index finger and thumb." Ye Zhen said, while picking up a pair of tweezers from the table to demonstrate. "It's like a sniper firing a gun without relying on their wrist, but on the coordination of their shoulder and breathing. When you get back, practice picking needles on a matchbox with fine cotton thread. Practice a thousand times before going to the operating table."

Director Wu suddenly realized what was going on, nodded repeatedly, and sat down.

Outside the conference room, the corridor was dimly lit.

Dean Zhou Hai, with his hands tucked in his pockets, looked through the glass window in the wooden door at the room full of the country's top surgical brains, his face crinkling with smiles.

This deal is incredibly lucrative. These top experts help the main hospital with outpatient visits and writing medical records during the day, act as free assistants in the afternoons, and attend lectures in the evenings. Not only are the large backlog of difficult and complex cases at the main hospital being rapidly resolved, but the cure rate is also skyrocketing. In the past few days, the letters of commendation from the higher military region have almost filled his desk.

Wang Pangzi, the head of the logistics department, ran over from the stairwell, wiping the sweat from his brow, and reported in a low voice: "Director Zhou, we really can't arrange accommodation for the visiting doctors. The guesthouses are all full, and we also have doctors coming from several southern provinces these days. We can't let them sleep on the street in the dead of winter."

Zhou Hai stroked his chin, his eyes darting around: "Isn't there a row of dilapidated single-person dormitories built in the 1960s in the backyard?"

"The walls there are peeling, no one has lived there for years, and the windows are drafty," Fatty Wang said with difficulty.

"Paste up the drafty areas with old newspapers and seal them up with mud! Go find a carpenter to nail together a few wooden plank beds, and just run an electrical wire to hang a light bulb." Zhou Hai waved his hand confidently, "These people are here to seek enlightenment, not to stay in high-ranking officials' wards and enjoy a life of luxury! Clear out those dormitories for them."

Just as Fatty Wang was about to nod and do it, Zhou Hai suddenly called him back.

"Wait a minute." Zhou Hai rubbed his fingers together. "You can't just stay for free. Our main hospital doesn't charge for water and electricity, does it? The wooden beds are free? Let's make it a hard rule: every visiting doctor who moves into those dormitories will have to pay twenty yuan per month for accommodation!"

Fatty Wang gasped, his eyes widening in shock: "Director Zhou... isn't this a bit much? That director is a big shot in the local area, he brings his own food to do the hard labor for us, and you're going to charge him such a high price? If word gets out, people will gossip about us, saying the main hospital is greedy for money!"

"You know nothing!" Zhou Hai glared at Wang Pangzi and slapped him on the shoulder. "Do you think our newly established 'Cardiovascular Intervention Center' is free? If I'm not stingy, how will I provide these old men with washbasins and thermos flasks? Get to work on it! Anyone with objections, tell him to come directly to me!"

Fatty Wang shrank his neck and quickly slipped away.

Sure enough, the landline on Zhou Hai's desk rang early the next morning.

On the other end of the phone, Zhao Degong, the president of Shanghai First People's Hospital, was jumping up and down, cursing: "Zhou Hai! Do you have no shame? I sent the two best directors in my department to work like slaves for you, and not only do you not pay them, you even make them live in drafty dormitories and dare to ask for twenty yuan a month? You old bastard, are you a reincarnation of Zhou the Skinflint?!"

Zhou Hai moved the microphone further away, and only after the other side had finished shouting did he slowly and deliberately retort.

"Old Zhao, don't get so worked up. Your two directors just went up on stage with Dr. Ye yesterday and got a rare anatomical diagram drawn by Dr. Ye himself. If you're worried about the twenty dollars, no problem! There's a Red Star Guesthouse three miles to the left, it's two dollars a night, tell them to move out. But let me be clear, my shabby dormitory is in high demand right now, there are more than a dozen people waiting in line with money for a bed. If you miss this opportunity, next month my price will be thirty!"

The person on the other end of the phone was instantly speechless.

A full five seconds passed before Zhao Degong's voice, filled with the sound of grinding his teeth, finally rang out: "Twenty it is! Keep that bed for me, no matter what. If you give it to someone else, I'll fight you!"

Zhou Hai hummed a little tune with satisfaction and hung up the phone.

……

As evening fell, the winter sunset turned the sky over the northern part of the city blood red.

Ye Zhen finally finished her long day of continuous work, took off her white coat, put on a wool coat, and walked out of the office building. The continuous high-intensity output left a trace of unconcealed fatigue between her brows, but her eyes shone brightly.

As she stepped down the steps, a gust of cold wind swept over her. She looked up and saw Gu Zheng's jeep with military license plates parked steadily under the old locust tree.

Gu Zheng leaned against the car door, his tall and straight figure accentuated by his crisp military uniform. He had half a cigarette between his fingers. When he saw Ye Zhen's slender and aloof figure, he deftly stubbed out the cigarette and strode over to greet her.

In stark contrast to his imposing aura, he was carrying an aluminum insulated lunchbox wrapped in floral cotton fabric.

"The soybean and pig's trotter soup has been simmering on the coal stove for three hours, it's still piping hot. Get in the car and drink it while it's hot." Gu Zheng opened the passenger door, his rough, large hand gently patting her back to shield her from the wind.

Ye Zhen got into the car, holding a warm aluminum lunchbox. She had to teach that evening, and it was too much trouble to eat at home. Gu Zheng wouldn't allow her to eat in the cafeteria, so she ended up eating the special meals Gu Zheng brought her every day.

Through the car window, she looked at the open space in the main hospital compound that was being cordoned off by construction vehicles. There, a top-notch cardiovascular interventional center in the country would soon rise, an empire she had personally built in this era.

Gu Zheng lifted the lid of the lunchbox, and the rich, fragrant aroma of meat broth instantly filled the cramped carriage.

Ye Zhen lowered her head and took a sip. The warm, mellow soup flowed down her throat into her stomach, warming her all the way to her heart and completely dispelling the biting chill.