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

The next morning, Gu Zheng learned firsthand what "citywide romance" truly meant.

The two had just stepped out of the room when they bumped into a plump middle-aged woman pushing a cleaning cart. Upon seeing Ye Zhen, the woman dropped her rag with a thud, her blue eyes widening like saucers. She then pulled a small notebook from her apron pocket and shouted in broken Chinese, "Ye! The Hand of God! Autograph!"

Gu Zheng leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, watching his wife helplessly sign her name on the other party's bill in a flamboyant manner.

"Well, Dr. Ye," Gu Zheng said sourly, adjusting Ye Zhen's scarf as he did so. "Even the cleaning lady has become your fangirl. Does my status as the legitimate husband in this family now have to be relegated to the bottom of the Spree River?"

Ye Zhen glanced at him sideways and capped her pen: "Stop being silly. Didn't we say we were going to take the subway? Let's go."

The two changed into casual clothes. Gu Zheng wore a black bomber jacket, his broad shoulders and narrow waist accentuated by sunglasses, giving him a roguish air. Ye Zhen, on the other hand, wore a beige cashmere coat, her long hair casually tied up, exuding a cool and intellectual vibe.

As soon as I stepped out of the hotel, a cold wind from Berlin swept in, carrying fallen leaves.

To avoid the ever-present reporters, the two specifically chose the subway.

In the 1980s, the West Berlin subway cars were filled with the musty smell of tobacco and newspaper ink. As soon as the two stepped into the car, the previously noisy space seemed to be instantly silenced.

A blond young man was sitting by the door reading a newspaper. The front page featured a large photo of Ye Zhen. He looked up, glanced at the newspaper, then at Ye Zhen, and his mouth slowly opened into an "O" shape.

"My God! It's her!"

"Whoosh!"

If yesterday's events in the operating room were a miracle, then today's subway car is a divine intervention.

The entire carriage, regardless of age or gender, stood up in perfect unison, as if they had rehearsed it.

"Please have a seat, Ms. Ye!"

"Sit here! It's very warm here!"

"Oh, esteemed angel from the East, please allow me to offer you my seat!"

Ye Zhen froze on the spot, so embarrassed she felt like her toes were digging into the soles of her shoes. She looked to Gu Zheng for help, lowering her voice, "Did they misunderstand and think I'm seventy years old?"

Gu Zheng suppressed a laugh, using his height advantage to stand behind her like a wall: "Please sit down, Dr. Ye. This is the highest respect the people of Berlin can show to intellectuals; not sitting down would be disrespectful."

Ye Zhen forced herself to sit down. Although no one crowded around her, the adoring and eager gazes they gave her were enough to melt anyone's heart.

Finally, we made it to the ticket buying stage.

The bearded ticket seller absolutely refused to accept the mark Gu Zheng offered. He pulled a gold-embossed monthly pass from his drawer, shoved it into Ye Zhen's hand without a word, and gave a solemn salute: "For Alice! This is a special approval from the Berlin Transport Authority, a lifetime honor!"

Gu Zheng clutched the monthly pass, glancing at the loose change the two of them hadn't even had a chance to spend yet. His lips twitched. "Honey, we're going back to China tomorrow. What are we going to do with this? It's too thick even as a bookmark."

Ye Zhen couldn't help but burst out laughing.

Having escaped the bustling subway station, the two arrived at the Brandenburg Gate.

There were many tourists here, and Ye Zhen originally wanted to take a low-key group photo. But as soon as Ye Zhen took out her camera, the originally crowded people automatically parted to both sides like Moses parting the sea, leaving her with a vacuum zone with a diameter of three meters in the most prime spot.

Two kind-hearted German women even spontaneously stood on either side to maintain order: "Make way! Don't block the doctor's view!"

Gu Zheng held his camera, looking at the empty square in the lens, which seemed to have been booked entirely, and sighed helplessly: "In the past, when I was on a mission, I tried every means to hide my whereabouts. Now, following you, I feel like a moving target, the kind that glows in the dark."

"Is Commander Gu under a lot of pressure?" Ye Zhen turned around, her back to the tall stone pillar, and looked at him with her eyes crinkling.

Gu Zheng pressed the shutter, capturing her rare smile, then strode over and put his arm around her waist in public: "The pressure is immense. So after returning to China, I'll have to apply for 24/7 bodyguards. For protection against wolves, thieves, and reporters."

A street performer playing the violin recognized them on the roadside.

As the strings turned, the familiar melody of "Jasmine Flower" began to play.

However, the tune is a bit off-key.

"What a beautiful jasmine flower..." Several Germans around him hummed along, but their tunes were completely different.

Ye Zhen frowned as she listened. The music was ingrained in her very being, allowing no room for error. She released Gu Zheng's hand, stepped forward, spoke a few words to the performer in fluent German, and then borrowed the violin.

Set up the zither and begin bowing.

A clear and melodious tune resonated across the square, pure and gentle, carrying the delicate charm of the misty rain of Jiangnan, instantly drowning out all the surrounding noise.

When the music ended, thunderous applause erupted in the square.

Gu Zheng stood outside the crowd, looking at the radiant woman, his pride barely concealed. That was his woman, capable of saving lives with a scalpel and captivating souls with a violin bow.

To avoid the growing crowd, the two slipped into an inconspicuous bookstore.

In the most prominent position in the bookstore window, there was a set of expensive acupuncture bronze figures, next to several German versions of the "Huangdi Neijing" (Yellow Emperor's Inner Classic).

Ye Zhen picked it up curiously and flipped through it.

After reading only two pages, her face darkened.

"Nonsense." Ye Zhen pointed to a line of annotation in the book, "Translating 'kidneys govern bones' as 'kidneys determine bone hardness,' and then suggesting calcium supplements? Marking 'Sanyinjiao' on the ankle bone? If someone were to use that as a needle, they'd be crippled or dead."

Occupational hazard kicked in, and Ye Zhen, disregarding where she was, picked up a pen and began correcting mistakes directly on the sample book.

"Hey! What are you doing!" Just as the clerk was about to rush over and yell at her, the store manager rushed out from behind.

"Wait! That's...that's Ye!"

Five minutes later.

The bookstore owner, along with three employees, stood respectfully to the side, holding notebooks and frantically recording Ye Zhen's "revision suggestions."

"These books are all being taken off the shelves." Ye Zhen's tone was serious. "Traditional Chinese medicine is not metaphysics, it's science. This kind of incorrect translation is murder."

"Yes, yes, yes! Take them off the shelves immediately!" The shopkeeper wiped his sweat, turned around and threw the few hardcover books into the trash can, then looked at Ye Zhen with a fawning expression, "Then, could you recommend a few reliable ones?"

Half an hour later, Gu Zheng became a laborer.

He was holding a cardboard box containing more than a dozen thick, original medical books, which the shop manager had forced on him as a "reproach" and "thank you" gift.

"Alright, Teacher Ye," Gu Zheng said helplessly, weighing the contents of his bag. "We're here for a date, not to buy supplies. If we keep buying, the plane will be overweight."

In the evening, the two climbed the Berlin TV Tower.

Standing more than 200 meters above the ground, overlooking this city divided by lights and history.

Outside the glass window, the fog was thick.

Ye Zhen pressed herself against the glass, looking at the bustling traffic below, and the tension that had been building up finally eased completely.

"Gu Zheng," she whispered, "It feels like a dream. Just three days ago, the people here thought we were still using tree bark to treat illnesses."

"It's not a dream."

Gu Zheng hugged her from behind. His warm chest pressed against her back, and the strong pounding of his heart traveled up her spine.

He lowered his head, resting his chin on the crook of her neck, his voice deep and resolute: "It was you who took the knife, slicing through their arrogance piece by piece, and forging their dignity. Ye Zhen, you deserve all the applause here."

Ye Zhen's eyes welled up with tears, and she turned around and buried herself in his arms.

"Are you tired?" Gu Zheng stroked her hair.

"Hmm," Ye Zhen said in a muffled voice, "I don't want to talk, and I don't want to laugh either."

"Then don't laugh."

Gu Zheng grabbed her hand and turned to walk towards the elevator. "I'll take you somewhere where you don't have to smile or talk."

Ten minutes later, the two went into an old-fashioned movie theater near Alexanderplatz.

When buying the tickets, Gu Zheng specifically chose the couple's seats in the last row of the private box.

The movie shown was an obscure and difficult-to-understand German art film, without subtitles, and the screen was dark.

But this suited Gu Zheng's wishes perfectly.

The lighting in the private room was dim and ambiguous, and the air was filled with the sweet aroma of popcorn and the smell of stale velvet.

Just ten minutes into the movie, Gu Zheng's hand began to wander and grip Ye Zhen's fingers.

"Dr. Ye," Gu Zheng leaned close to her ear, his warm breath brushing against her sensitive earlobe, "the way you played the violin in the square just now was quite captivating."

Ye Zhen shrank back and tried to pull her hand away, but it was gripped even tighter.

"We're watching a movie," she protested softly.

"I don't understand it, and it's not interesting." Gu Zheng said matter-of-factly, his deep eyes burning like two flames in the dim light. "Why don't we do something else?"

"you……"

Before he could finish speaking, he was cut off.

This was a kiss brimming with possessiveness. Unlike the previous fleeting kisses, this time, Gu Zheng seemed to be releasing all the worry, jealousy, and love that had been building up over the past few days.

Their lips and teeth intertwined, their breathing rapid.

Ye Zhen initially wanted to refuse, but she quickly softened under his aggressive advances. In this unfamiliar country, in this dark corner, she indulgently gripped Gu Zheng's collar.

The lights and shadows shifted on the big screen, and the temperature inside the private box rose.

I don't know how much time passed before the movie ended.

When the two walked out of the movie theater, it was already completely dark outside.

Gu Zheng walked ahead with a satisfied and refreshed expression, casually taking off his scarf and carefully wrapping it around Ye Zhen, as if he wanted to cover most of her face.

"Why are you covering yourself up so tightly?" Ye Zhen asked, only her eyes showing, her voice a little hoarse.

"Cover it up." Gu Zheng pressed his thumb on her slightly swollen lips, his eyes full of mischievous smiles. "If the reporters take pictures of Expert Ye like this, tomorrow's headlines won't be 'The Hand of God,' but 'The Berlin Kiss.'"

Ye Zhen's face flushed, and she kicked him.

"Shut up," she hissed, then turned and walked away as fast as if a wolf were chasing her.

Gu Zheng watched her fleeing figure, his smile deepening. He took two quick steps to catch up, stretched out his long arm, and easily pulled her back. He then grabbed her hand, which was tucked outside her coat pocket, and forcefully stuffed it into the pocket of his pilot jacket.

His pockets were deep and warm inside. His large hand moved, its five fingers spreading out and forcefully slipping between hers, locking her fingers tightly.

"Fine, I'll shut up." Gu Zheng turned his head, looking at her puffed-up eyes peeking out from under her scarf, and softened his voice a little. "Walk slowly, aren't you afraid of twisting your ankle? We're not in a hurry."