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

The heavy double doors of the intensive care unit closed tightly.

Mrs. Thatcher took off her medical cap and threw it into the yellow medical waste bin.

Vice Minister Li stepped forward to lead the way.

The group went down the stairs to the lobby on the first floor.

Outside the police cordon, over a hundred Chinese and foreign journalists had already gathered. Long lenses and microphones were lined up in a row. Flashbulbs went off one after another, illuminating the entire hall as bright as day.

Gu Zheng stood by a pillar on the left side of the hall, one hand on his sidearm at his waist, his gaze sweeping across the entire room.

As soon as Mrs. Thatcher stepped in front of the makeshift microphone, the foreign journalists below erupted in a frenzy.

A male reporter from The Times picked up a recorder and asked a question loudly in a thick London accent.

"Madam Prime Minister! Your original visit to China was scheduled for December. This time, you arrived in Beicheng two months ahead of schedule, even disrupting the original diplomatic rhythm. Does this mean that the British Empire is at a disadvantage in recent political maneuvering and has been forced to bow to China?"

This is a sharp and incisive question, rife with political traps.

Vice Minister Li's face fell, and the interpreter beside him was sweating profusely as he quickly translated the question to the Chinese personnel.

Mrs. Thatcher reached out and held the edge of the microphone.

"Your question contains a serious common-sense error."

Her voice, crisp and clear, resonated throughout the hall through the loudspeaker.

"I came to the North City ahead of schedule, not because of political compromise, but because the medical community of the British Empire had encountered an insurmountable wall. These three children were sentenced to death in London. And the solution that could pull them back from the brink of death was in the hands of Chinese doctors."

The reporters below erupted in uproar.

Mrs. Thatcher raised her voice to drown out the murmurs.

"I stand here out of respect for cutting-edge medical technology and, more importantly, out of reverence for life. Yesterday at the negotiating table, I made it clear to everyone that a country capable of creating medical miracles deserves our equal dialogue, where we can set aside all prejudices. This is the true dignity of the British Empire."

Zhou Hai stood to the side and behind. After understanding the translation, he rubbed his hands together excitedly and straightened his back.

Gao Yuan and Lin Yi, along with several other young doctors, were also blushing.

BBC documentary director George, carrying a camera, pushed the lens towards Mrs. Thatcher, then panned to Ye Zhen, who stood silently to the side.

A female reporter from the French newspaper Le Figaro squeezed to the front and held the microphone high.

"Dr. Ye!"

The female reporter asked Ye Zhen questions directly in English, speaking very quickly.

"We have noticed that the facilities at this military hospital, both in terms of architecture and equipment, are inferior to those of top medical centers in Europe. Arthur's surgery was extremely complex. How did you guarantee the success rate? Was there an element of luck involved? Or did the Chinese side conceal high-risk errors during the surgery?"

Upon hearing this question, the expressions of the British officials accompanying the group changed. Sir Williams frowned and stepped forward to explain on Ye Zhen's behalf.

Ye Zhen raised her hand to stop Williams.

She took a half step forward, facing the microphone directly, and spoke fluent English.

"luck?"

Ye Zhen spoke calmly, without the slightest emotional fluctuation.

"A five-month-old baby weighing 3.8 kilograms has complete transposition of the great arteries. His coronary artery opening is only 1.8 millimeters."

Ye Zhen rattled off a series of precise data points, which she then presented to the French journalist.

"On the operating table, I used a 70-degree suture, thinner than a human hair, to perform an in situ coronary artery transplant. The suturing took fifteen minutes, and the aortic clamping time was forty-five minutes. Post-operatively, Arthur's heart rate was 110 and his blood oxygen saturation was 98."

She paused for a moment, her gaze sweeping evenly over all the foreign media reporters in the audience.

"Medicine is never about luck. In my operating room, the equipment may not be the most advanced, but the people wielding the scalpel are top-notch."

The audience was silent.

These words are extremely arrogant.

But given the undeniable real data, and the fact that Arthur was lying peacefully in the second-floor intensive care unit, no one dared to utter a single word of rebuttal.

Dr. Brown stood to the side and quietly added to the other foreign journalists.

"Dr. Ye's coronary artery graft anastomosis technique is currently unmatched in all of Europe. The European Society of Cardiothoracic Surgery has decided to include this surgery in its classic teaching database. There were no mistakes whatsoever; it was a textbook-perfect surgery."

The French female reporter reluctantly put away her microphone.

A Reuters reporter seized the opportunity to ask a question.

"Dr. Ye, now that your skills have surpassed those of your European counterparts, do you have any plans to leave China and develop your career in a Western country with better medical conditions? For example, the Mayo Clinic or the Royal Hospital, which would certainly provide you with the best treatment and the most advanced laboratories."

This question made Zhou Hai's heart jump into his throat.

Gu Zheng leaned against the pillar, shifting his stance, but his expression remained relaxed. He knew his wife's temperament all too well.

Ye Zhen didn't even hesitate.

"There is no such plan."

She answered crisply and clearly.

"I am a Chinese doctor. My patients are here, and my students are here too. Wherever the most cutting-edge technology is located, that is the center of world medicine."

This response effectively shut down the Reuters reporter's remaining questions.

The Q&A session lasted for twenty minutes.

Seizing the opportunity, Vice Minister Li stepped forward and announced the end of the interview.

Foreign journalists, still eager for more, tried to push forward, only to be blocked by a human wall formed by the guards.

Mrs. Thatcher turned to face Ye Zhen.

"leaf."

She called out the name with an unusual gentleness on her face.

Before I leave, I would like to make a personal request to you.

Ye Zhen stood still.

"Please speak, Madam."

Mrs. Thatcher beckoned to her personal photographer.

"I'd like to take a photo with you alone as a keepsake."

This request stunned even Vice Minister Li.

According to diplomatic practice, group photos are usually large group photos with officials from both China and Britain standing in rows. It is an unprecedented exception for a head of state to request a separate photo with a doctor.

Zhou Hai frantically tried to signal to Ye Zhen with his eyes, his legs spinning with excitement.

Ye Zhen didn't feel flattered and her attitude remained normal.

"it is good."

Mrs. Thatcher walked to the center of the hall, to the huge screen painted with a welcoming pine tree.

She extended her hand to Ye Zhen, indicating that Ye Zhen should stand in the central position to her right.

Ye Zhen walked over, wearing that white lab coat, and stood side by side with the British Prime Minister, who was dressed in a bespoke business suit.

The two made no unnecessary movements.

"Click."

The spotlights came on.

The group photo session ended.

Mrs. Thatcher walked out of the emergency room building surrounded by officials and bodyguards.

The convoy quickly drove away from the hospital.

Zhou Hai let out a long breath, almost collapsing onto the chair next to him.

"My God, we finally got rid of that big shot smoothly." Zhou Hai wiped the sweat from his forehead, turned to look at Ye Zhen, and grinned from ear to ear. "Little Ye, what you said to the foreign media just now was so inspiring! Those foreigners were all speechless after you shut them up."

Ye Zhen put her hands into the pockets of her white coat.

"Just telling the truth. Dean Zhou, if there's nothing else, I'm going back to my department."

"Go on, go on! I'm giving you half a day off today. Go back and get some rest!" Zhou Hai waved his hand dismissively.

Ye Zhen walked through the lobby toward the doctors' office building.

Gu Zheng strode after him, and the two walked side by side under the shade of the trees.

"That photo you just took was pretty good." Gu Zheng turned to look at her, his tone filled with undisguised pride. "Once it's developed, I'll ask for a copy to hang right in the middle of our living room."

Ye Zhen glanced at him sideways.

Why hang it in the living room?

"My wife is someone even the British Prime Minister would rush to take a photo with, so I have to show her off a bit," Gu Zheng said, leaning closer and lowering his voice.