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

The phrase "ten minutes are up" is like a drop of ice water splashed into a scalding hot oil pan.

boom!

The once eerily quiet Berlin International Conference Center instantly erupted in chaos.

"No! Don't stop! Turn it on! Turn that damn machine on now!"

"My God! This is a crime! You are murdering art!"

"Who cares about that damn lunch! I want to see the stitches! That's the hand of God!"

Those gentlemen who were just straightening their collars and preparing to leave, their minds filled with nothing but sausages and dark beer, now seemed to have gone mad.

Hungry?

That yearning for cutting-edge technology is more agonizing than hunger; it's like a person dying of thirst in the desert seeing a bottle of water, just as they've moistened their lips, the bottle is taken away.

This is worse than killing them.

Some beat their chests in frustration, some had red eyes, and some even disregarded their manners and stepped over their chairs to rush toward the podium.

The scene was like a pack of wolves that hadn't eaten for three days and three nights, who had just smelled meat when the plate of meat was taken away.

This is worse than killing them!

The host stood by the podium, cold sweat streaming down his chubby face and into his collar. He felt strangely hot in the early winter of Berlin. Looking at the angry, contorted faces below the stage, his legs trembled.

It’s over.

This time he really messed up big time.

"Ms. Ye...Ms. Ye..." The host wiped the sweat from his brow, his voice trembling uncontrollably, almost pleading, "Please continue. Everyone...everyone wants to see it. Whether it's ten minutes or ten hours, please! This is a medical treasure for all of humanity!"

Ye Zhen stood behind the podium, her posture upright, her red coat resembling a burning flame.

She calmly looked at the anxious, distorted faces below the stage.

"Your organizing committee clearly informed me that my time slot is only ten minutes, and even a second more would disrupt the meeting's proceedings."

Ye Zhen's voice was cold and clear, carried throughout the venue through the microphone, devoid of any warmth.

"As a punctual Chinese person, I must strictly abide by your 'rules'."

"After all..." Ye Zhen paused, a faint mockery playing on her lips. Her gaze swept over the experts in the front row who had loudly ridiculed her, "We have an old Chinese saying, 'When in Rome, do as the Romans do.' How can we delay everyone from enjoying the delicious Bavarian sausage?"

To kill someone is to destroy their spirit.

This slap completely erased the organizer's arrogant and condescending attitude.

His face was swollen from being slapped!

Bavarian white sausage?

Even if you put dragon meat in front of them now, they still wouldn't be able to swallow it!

The host on stage was deathly pale, his legs trembling. He knew he had made a grave mistake, and his career might be over.

"Pfft."

From the back corner came an undisguised sneer.

Gu Zheng remained seated with an air of nonchalance, his long legs crossed, toying with a metal lighter in his hand. The "click, click" sound was surprisingly clear amidst the noise.

Looking at the chaotic scene ahead, he raised an eyebrow at Zhang Guohua, who was already dumbfounded, his military thug-like demeanor impossible to suppress.

"Uncle Zhang, look at these people, don't they look like monkeys in the zoo stretching their necks waiting to be fed?"

Zhang Guohua was stunned for a moment.

He watched as those top experts, who usually only appeared in top journals and textbooks and were arrogant, now raised their hands like primary school students and begged like beggars.

A surge of bittersweet heat rushed to his eyes, making his throat ache.

He looked at Ye Zhen on the stage, his vision somewhat blurred.

In a daze, he seemed to have returned to thirty years ago. Back then, he was standing in front of a hospital in Berlin, braving the heavy snow, with a hard, dry bun in his arms, just to get a glimpse of the latest X-ray machine.

What kind of look did that German doorman give him?

What did that blonde, blue-eyed head nurse say to him?

"Chinese people are clumsy and can't understand these sophisticated instruments. We shouldn't bring in bacteria."

That was humiliation.

It was a humiliation etched into my bones, a pain that lasted half my life.

Today, it is still a cold winter day in Berlin.

That Chinese girl in the red coat used only a scalpel and a video recording to smash that once tightly closed door to pieces!

With trembling hands, Zhang Guohua took off his glasses, hastily wiped away the tears on his face, straightened his back, and let out a laugh tinged with sobs.

"So alike! It's fucking alike! That feels so good!"

At this moment, someone tried to rush onto the stage to press the play button.

Gu Zheng's eyes sharpened, and his lazy demeanor vanished instantly.

He strode onto the podium, his tall figure like a majestic mountain, firmly blocking Ye Zhen and keeping the foreigners who tried to approach out.

"Step back."

Only two words.

Gu Zheng didn't roar, and his voice wasn't even loud, but the murderous aura that had rolled out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood on his body was released without reservation in that instant.

"Who just said this was a juggling act?"

Gu Zheng's gaze swept across the room like lightning. He coldly shouted in Chinese, his voice carrying the ruthless aura honed on the battlefield, "What? Not hungry anymore? Want to watch a monkey show again?"

Xu Wenqiang was so excited that he trembled all over. Holding the microphone, he translated the words clearly and precisely, each German word sounding like a stone thrown out.

An awkward, deathly silence fell over the entire room.

No one dared to speak, nor did anyone dare to look the Eastern man in the eye.

Because only then did they painfully realize that the Eastern woman standing on the stage was not a clown to be ridiculed, but a queen who controlled the entire scene.

Ye Zhen walked out from behind Gu Zheng, her expression calm.

She picked up the videotape and gracefully placed it into her black briefcase.

"Click".

The crisp, melodious sound of the latches snapping shut sent a shiver through everyone present, as if it were the sound of hope closing.

"Medicine knows no borders, but doctors have dignity."

Ye Zhen picked up her briefcase, her gaze as cold as frost. "Since you consider this a waste of time and a farce, then this 'pleasant' exchange will end here."

After saying that, she took Gu Zheng's arm and turned to leave.

Decisive, straightforward, without a trace of regret.

The red hem of her dress fluttered like two victory flags.

Just then.

In the crowd, a tall, blond man suddenly shoved aside the person blocking his way, raised his arm high, and shouted in a distorted voice:

"Fifty thousand dollars!"

That was Jason, the chief representative of the U.S. delegation.

His eyes were bloodshot as he stared intently at the briefcase in Ye Zhen's hand, uttering an exorbitant price that would suffocate countless people in this era.

"Dr. Ye! Please wait! I'll personally offer $50,000 if you sell me the copy rights to this videotape! Cash! US dollars!"