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

The fifteenth day of the first lunar month is the Lantern Festival.

The heavy, swirling snowflakes, like a thick quilt, covered the mottled red brick walls of the military hospital and also masked the pungent smell of Lysol and honeycomb briquettes emanating from the tent area.

As night fell, someone hung a few red lanterns on the bare poplar branches. The warm yellow glow spread across the snowy night, exuding a festive atmosphere that could warm people's hearts.

This doesn't look like a hospital; it looks more like a frontline engineering company that's still in operation.

At this moment, Ye Zhen was rolling up her sleeves and kneading dough in the temporary cafeteria on the first floor.

The canteen was steaming, with water boiling in several large pots, and the air was filled with the aroma of glutinous rice flour and the sweetness of black sesame seeds.

"Ye, that's not the right amount of force!"

While skillfully rolling the glutinous rice dough into a ball, Ye Zhen said to the "foreign apprentice" beside her without looking up, "If you were performing mitral valve repair surgery and the suturing force was as strong as you are kneading dough, the patient's valve would have been torn long ago, and it could even lead to severe regurgitation."

Standing next to her, with a powdered face, was the German expert, Klaus.

This expert, who commands respect on the operating table in Europe, is now clumsily trying to put the cracked glutinous rice ball back together with his hands covered in glutinous rice flour, sweating profusely from his anxiety.

"Damn it, this is even harder than anastomosing the aortic arch!" Klaus complained, his eyes fixed on Ye Zhen's technique as if watching some kind of high-tech demonstration. "Ye, could you demonstrate the needle insertion angle for that 'purse-string suture' you just mentioned? Is it like sealing this opening?"

"Pretty much the same, different paths leading to the same destination."

Ye Zhen deftly twirled her fingers, and a round and cute glutinous rice ball fell into the basket with a soft sound.

"Relax on the outside, tighten on the inside, leave room for maneuver. The Chinese philosophy of moderation is sometimes more effective than your rigid data. Want to hear the second half of the mantra? Finish kneading this bowl of dough first."

Klaus immediately shut up and buried himself in his work, using a bowl of glutinous rice noodles as his operating table, his expression more serious than if he were performing open-heart surgery.

In another corner of the cafeteria, the scene was particularly "bizarre".

Siemens' global president Thomas and chief engineer Hans were still wearing cashmere coats that could buy half a courtyard house, but now they had to hunch their necks and squat on small stools in the aisle, looking rather aggrieved.

There was no other way; the cafeteria was too crowded, and this was the only place that was close to the coal stove and warm.

But the coal stove was clearly not cooperating, spewing out wisps of blue smoke every now and then, making the two German gentlemen's eyes water and causing them to cough incessantly.

"My God," Thomas coughed as he pointed to the whitish, limp thing in the bowl, "Hans, are you sure this is food? It looks like some kind of... some kind of biological specimen preserved in formaldehyde."

"Boss, this is Yuanxiao, a traditional Chinese delicacy." Hans quickly adapted to local customs, still holding half a white steamed bun in his left hand. "It's said to be filled with plant seeds and sugar, and coated with rice flour. You can think of it as... a sweetened Italian pasta ball."

"Oh?" Thomas raised an eyebrow, trying to pick up the slippery ball with the two thin bamboo chopsticks in his hand.

This is undoubtedly a disaster.

The glutinous rice balls were like oiled eels, thrashing about in the bowl, refusing to submit. Thomas's hands, usually accustomed to signing multi-million dollar contracts, were trembling like those of a Parkinson's patient.

Just then, a large, bony hand reached out and pushed a small plate in front of Thomas.

"Try this."

Gu Zheng smiled broadly, his pearly white teeth gleaming in the dim light. "Mr. Foreigner, this stuff is too greasy, it's just sticky and hard to digest. You need a dipping sauce! It's an old Beijing custom, a 'delicious way to cut through the greasiness' for honored guests."

Thomas gave the Chinese officer, who, though initially fierce, was now unusually enthusiastic, a grateful look: "Oh! Thank you! You're too kind!"

Without even looking at it, he picked up the glutinous rice ball he had painstakingly poked, dipped it heavily in the dark brown dish, and then, filled with anticipation for Eastern cuisine, stuffed it into his mouth.

One second, two seconds.

Thomas's face flushed red instantly, then turned purple, his features contorted into a grimace, his eyes bulged like copper bells, and a gurgling sound, as if someone was being choked, came from his throat.

That dish didn't contain syrup, but authentic Shanxi aged vinegar, and it was also full of minced garlic!

The intensely sour and spicy sensation that shot straight to the top of his head, combined with the sweetness of black sesame, created a "mushroom cloud" in his mouth, nearly causing the German CEO to die on the spot.

"Is it delicious?"

Gu Zheng innocently picked up a glutinous rice ball for himself, dipped it in vinegar, and took a bite with relish, as if he were eating some delicacy. "It cuts through the grease and kills bacteria. This is a good thing. I don't tell just anyone this."

Hans, standing next to him, shrank back and silently moved his bowl further away.

He finally understood: this Commander Gu was more cunning than a sesame seed in a glutinous rice ball! Serves him right for staring at Dr. Ye's hands for so long!

Ye Zhen walked over carrying freshly cooked glutinous rice balls and saw this scene. She glared at Gu Zheng helplessly. Gu Zheng immediately dropped his roguish act and eagerly took the bowl from his wife's hands: "Tired? Let me carry it, don't burn your hands."

"Mr. Thomas," Ye Zhen sat down, looking at the president who had finally caught his breath and was panting heavily, "how did you like the taste?"

Thomas gulped down a large tub of water, his eyes still glistening with tears from the vinegar, and gave a thumbs up: "Very...very special. Very impactful, just like...just like your medical skills."

"China is like this Lantern Festival."

Ye Zhen pointed to the white dumplings floating in the bowl. Her voice was soft, but it quieted down the noisy students around her.

"The outer skin looks soft and chewy, not aggressive at all, even a bit sticky, and you can knead it as you please. But if you're not careful and take a bite, the filling inside is scalding hot."

She picked up a spoon, gently pressed one open, and black sesame roulette instantly gushed out, steaming hot.

"Moreover, although we're boiling in boiling water and soaking in muddy water, as long as our hearts don't break and our skin doesn't break, what we'll serve up in the end is this bowl of reunion. Anyone who tries to smash this bowl of reunion will have their mouth scalded by the scalding filling."

Thomas stared at the torn glutinous rice ball and fell silent.

"Ye," he wiped the vinegar stains from the corner of his mouth, his expression becoming serious, abandoning the slight arrogance of a capitalist, "I've learned a lot. I think we'll continue this 'steaming hot' business."

The atmosphere was getting a bit somber when one of the mischievous students shouted, "Don't just eat! Today is the Lantern Festival, how about we play a game? Pass the flower while drumming!"

"good!"