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

The woman's smile froze on her face. She was intimidated by Ye Zhen's aura and even more startled by her fluent German.

"Please...please wait a moment."

Two minutes later, four admission passes were respectfully handed to Ye Zhen.

Upon entering the venue, one finds a huge lecture hall, large enough to accommodate thousands of people. At that moment, a French expert is demonstrating the latest vascular anastomosis technique on the stage.

"Fantastic! This is a milestone in vascular surgery!" The audience erupted in applause, and the foreign experts whispered among themselves, their faces full of admiration.

Ye Zhen and her entourage were led by a waiter to a corner in the last row. The lighting was dim here, and it was the furthest from the stage, with a huge load-bearing pillar blocking their view.

"You bastards! This is outrageous!" Gu Zheng's eyes were as cold as knives. "Is this what you call international etiquette? Giving us the cold shoulder?"

Zhang Guohua's face was also ashen, his chest heaving with anger: "We're invited guests, not beggars!"

"Don't rush." ​​Ye Zhen took out the precious surgical videotape and gently stroked it. "The more remote the position, the louder the slap will be when you retaliate."

Time passed by, second by second.

The experts on stage changed wave after wave. Some showcased extracorporeal circulation machines costing hundreds of thousands of dollars, while others flaunted endoscopes as precise as clockwork. Each one emphasized the equipment, the power of money, and the dominance of Western medicine.

Only Ye Zhen sat quietly in the darkness, like a lurking leopard.

Finally, the clock struck twelve.

The host was a portly German man who glanced at his watch and gave a perfunctory smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I know your stomachs are rumbling. The organizers have prepared delicious Bavarian sausage and dark beer."

A burst of relaxed laughter and the sound of chairs being moved rang out from the audience.

The host paused, then added casually, "But before dinner, we have one last speaker, Dr. Ye Zhen from faraway China. She will demonstrate... well, some 'special' techniques from the East. Those who aren't interested can leave now and head to the restaurant."

The moment the words were spoken, chaos erupted in the audience.

"China? They're still using herbal remedies, aren't they?"

"Let's go, let's go, I'm starving, don't waste time seeing some Chinese doctor."

Nearly a third of the people stood up and surged toward the exit, completely disregarding the speech that was about to begin.

"Ten minutes... they're treating us like a cutscene." Zhang Guohua shook his head bitterly, his fists clenched until they turned white. "It hasn't even started yet, and half the people are already gone."

"Leave?" Gu Zheng leaned back in his chair, a ruthless smile curving his lips. "It's fine, they'll be begging to come back in a bit."

Ye Zhen stood up.

She didn't bring a prepared speech. Everything was in her mind, in her very being.

Ye Zhen strode towards the podium.

Against the bright stage lights, her figure appeared thin and lonely, yet as upright as a pine tree.

In the first row, the president of Siemens Healthineers was about to get up and leave when Klaus, sweating profusely, tried to persuade him to stay: "Mr. President! Please wait a little longer! Even just five minutes! This Dr. Ye is truly exceptionally talented..."

"Klaus, my time is precious." The president impatiently straightened his expensive silk tie, his eyes filled with disdain. "I don't believe that a poor country that can't even mass-produce penicillin has any technology that Siemens would care about."

"Thump."

A crisp sound, transmitted through the microphone, instantly reverberated throughout the venue.

Ye Zhen stood in front of the podium and gently tapped the microphone with her finger.

The piercing sound of electricity silenced the noisy venue for a moment.

She did not introduce herself, offer any humble greetings, or thank the organizers.

She merely swept her cold gaze across the departing figures, her voice clear and powerful, booming through the speakers across the empty hall:

"If you walk out this door now, you will miss more than just lunch."

"It is the direction of cardiothoracic surgery for the next twenty years."

Madness!

That's absolutely outrageous!

This was the first word that popped into the minds of all the European doctors present who had not yet left.

How dare a young female doctor from the backward East spout nonsense in Berlin, the heart of European medicine, in front of hundreds of top experts?

What are the future directions for cardiothoracic surgery over the next twenty years?

Good heavens, even the top expert at the Mayo Clinic wouldn't dare to boast like this!

"Whoosh—"

Those who were about to leave stopped in their tracks. Not because they were persuaded, but because they were angry. They wanted to see what gave this arrogant Eastern woman the right to act so wildly here.

"Shh-"

Whistles and boos rose and fell, as if trying to drown out the woman on stage.

The Siemens CEO, who had already stood up halfway, sneered upon hearing this and plopped back down. He even relit the cigar he had just extinguished, a mocking smile on his face as if he were watching a monkey show.

Ye Zhen ignored the commotion below the stage.

"Play the video," she said, turning her head to the projectionist behind her.

The projectionist paused for a moment, then hurriedly stuffed the tape into the player.

The huge projection screen flickered twice, and the image lit up.

The image quality is not high-definition; it even has the graininess of old-fashioned film. The background is a simple operating room, and the lighting from the operating lights is not even.

A few snickers came from the audience.

"Is this a horror movie shoot? This environment is worse than a veterinary station."

"My God, is that a manual suction device from the 1950s? You might not even find one in a museum now."

However, the next second.

The moment those hands appeared in the picture, all the sneers seemed to be abruptly cut off by an invisible hand.

In the video, Ye Zhen is holding a scalpel and is performing an open-chest procedure.

fast.

too fast.

If German surgeons' operations are like precise mechanical movements, then the hands on the screen are dancing. Not a single movement is superfluous; every incision, every hemostasis, every separation is precise down to the micrometer level.

"Is this location on the right mid-axillary line? It's not an open-chest procedure?"

"This is... a small incision?" An elderly French professor in the front row adjusted his glasses and leaned forward involuntarily.

A standard heart surgery requires splitting open the entire sternum, resulting in an incision of up to 20 centimeters. But in the footage, the incision is only 6 centimeters!

In the 1980s, without the aid of thoracoscopic surgery, this was simply a fantasy!

"Impossible! This has been edited! With such a narrow field of vision, how could you possibly see the coronary arteries?" someone shouted in disbelief.

Ye Zhen stood on the stage and said calmly, "This isn't editing. This is the ultimate application of anatomy. When you have the location of every blood vessel etched in your mind, I can find it even with my eyes closed."