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

Early the next morning.

The backstage area of ​​the Berlin International Conference Center.

Ye Zhen sat in front of the makeup mirror, holding an eyebrow pencil in her hand, but hesitated to put it down.

Her hands were usually very steady; she could cut through a hair with a scalpel. But now, they were trembling slightly. It wasn't from nervousness, but from exhaustion after a long period of intense mental combat.

Last night, that tech fanatic Hans came to the hotel. We spent ages comparing data; that German madman practically wanted to dissect her brain for analysis. Finally, Gu Zheng couldn't stand it anymore and told him to leave.

A large hand reached out and took the eyebrow pencil from her hand.

Gu Zheng bent down, his tall frame blocking the somewhat glaring light. He looked at Ye Zhen in the mirror and clumsily but extremely gently drew the tail of her eyebrows.

"Don't move." Gu Zheng's voice was deep, with a slight early morning hoarseness. "This thing is harder to handle than a gun."

Ye Zhen couldn't help but laugh, the redness in her eyes fading slightly: "Chief Gu can even draw eyebrows?"

"That's right, I have to learn anything for my wife." Gu Zheng finished drawing, examined it with satisfaction for a while, "Although it's not as good as your knife skills, it's passable. I'm telling you, don't be too tense. Those people outside aren't here to watch a monkey show, they're here on a pilgrimage."

Xu Wenqiang pushed open the door and came in, holding his speech notes, just in time to witness this scene.

A tall, handsome military officer lowered his head and placed a kiss on the forehead of a cool, beautiful female doctor. The background was a messy backstage area, yet the two of them managed to create the feel of a movie poster.

Xu Wenqiang felt a sharp pain in his teeth and quickly covered his eyes: "Ouch, my eyes! You two, can you please tone it down a bit? A fight is about to break out outside!"

"They've started fighting?" Ye Zhen stood up and straightened her collar.

"Absolutely!" Xu Wenqiang put down his hand, his face beaming with excitement. "Yesterday, those experts who mocked us almost got into a fight with the security guards over front-row seats. I heard that Hans from Siemens brought a bunch of engineers and took up the entire front row, refusing to let anyone sit. Now, a standing ticket is selling for five hundred marks on the black market!"

Upon hearing this, Ye Zhen's lips curled up slightly.

She turned around and took a box of colored chalk out of her bag.

"No need for a prepared speech."

She pushed the manuscript that Xu Wenqiang had translated overnight back to her.

"True surgery needs no words."

The spotlight on the podium was a bit dazzling.

The audience below was a sea of ​​black, and the air was filled with a strange atmosphere that was a mixture of anticipation, doubt, and fervor.

This didn't sound like a medical lecture; it sounded more like the opening act of an underground boxing match.

There was no applause when Ye Zhen walked onto the stage.

Only countless eyes were fixed on her. Those eyes held a mixture of inquiry, disdain, and Hans's almost obsessive fanaticism.

The lecture hall, originally designed to hold only five hundred people, was crammed with over a thousand. Even the corridors and windowsills were packed with people. Those European experts who were usually arrogant and aloof were now like a group of devout believers, clutching their notebooks, afraid of missing a single gesture from Ye Zhen.

Ye Zhen stood under the spotlight, with a huge projection screen behind her, and began playing the video that hadn't been finished that day.

The audience watched intently, occasionally letting out gasps of amazement.

After the video finished playing, Ye Zhen began her speech. She stopped talking about basic theories and went straight to the practical stuff.

"The key to vascular anastomosis via minimally invasive incisions lies in the data-driven approach to 'feel'," Ye Zhen said, drawing a mechanical model on the blackboard. "Needle insertion angle 35 degrees, needle holder rotation radius 1.2 centimeters, knot tying force controlled at 0.3 Newtons..."

The audience below the stage was filled with the clatter of notes being taken.

This isn't a medical lecture, it's practically a grand unveiling of martial arts secrets!

"Yesterday, someone asked me what the limits of minimally invasive surgery are."

Ye Zhen's clear voice resonated throughout the entire hall.

"Today, I'll draw it for you."

She picked up a red piece of chalk and turned to face the blackboard.

The initial momentum.

My wrist is shaking.

The chalk rubbed against the blackboard, making a "shush-shush" sound that was rapid and rhythmic.

A bright red arc appeared on the blackboard. Then came a second, and a third.

That's the aortic arch.

The few murmurs that had been emanating from the audience vanished instantly.

Those in the know understood it and their scalps tingled at the first glance.

That's incredibly accurate.

The curve, the proportion of the bifurcated blood vessels, it's as if the human body has been directly imprinted on a blackboard.

Ye Zhen did not stop.

Blue chalk outlined the veins, yellow chalk drew the nerve plexuses, and white chalk dotted the landmarks of the bones. Her hands moved incredibly fast, as if she didn't need to think; those complex anatomical structures were already ingrained in her mind.

In just three minutes.

A huge, incredibly detailed anatomical diagram of the heart and major blood vessels appeared before everyone's eyes.

She even used a three-dimensional shading technique to depict the location of tiny plaques on the coronary arteries.

"My God..." An elderly professor in the front row trembled as he put on his reading glasses. "This is practically a Leonardo da Vinci manuscript..."

In an era without PowerPoint presentations or 3D modeling, this hardcore skill of drawing anatomical diagrams freehand is, for surgeons, the most direct form of violent aesthetics.

It's blatant showing off.

Ye Zhen threw away the half-stamped chalk and dusted off her hands.

She turned around, picked up a long pointer, and pointed it at the right groin area on the diagram.

"In traditional heart surgery, we need to cut open the sternum and keep the patient in bed for three months."

Her pointer slid upwards along the femoral artery, like a serpent, passing through the iliac artery, entering the abdominal aorta, flowing upstream, passing through the aortic arch, and reaching the opening of the coronary artery of the heart.

"What we're doing now is here—" the pointer slammed down on the red heart, "to make a path."

Ye Zhen's voice suddenly rose in pitch.

"This is catheter technology. A catheter, less than two millimeters in diameter, carries a balloon and will replace a scalpel to clear blockages and repairs in this pulsating maze."

"Currently, the mainstream interventional treatment for coronary artery disease is percutaneous transluminal coronary angioplasty (PTCA), commonly known as balloon angioplasty."

"However, the key issue is that after PTCA, there is a high risk of acute occlusion of the vessel (approximately 5%) and a restenosis rate (approximately 30-40%). The vessel may collapse or tear after being stretched open."

"Is there a better way?"

She drew a simple net-like cylinder on the blackboard.

That was the prototype of the first generation of coronary stents.

The audience was completely silent.

Hans from Siemens suddenly stood up, frantically scribbling notes while muttering to himself, "Metal mesh frame... expand... support... That's it! That's it!"

Those experts who originally came with the intention of finding fault now only felt their throats go dry.

Ye Zhen's description was incredibly shocking. No surgery, no bleeding, just a metal mesh frame instead of a balloon to support the blood vessels, and the patient could walk the next day. In the 80s, this sounded like a fantasy, but looking at the crystal-clear pathway diagram on the blackboard, it felt almost tangible.

"That's impossible!"

A sharp sound broke the silence.