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

Inside the surgical consultation room, the furnace pipes emitted a dry, hot temperature. Gu Zheng's hand, calloused from the heat, rested on the back of the chair, his fingertips pressing against Ye Zhen's nape with an undisguised aggressiveness.

Ye Zhen turned her head, her gaze falling flatly on the man's strong jawline, without avoiding his touch.

"The flight from Shanghai to Beicheng takes three and a half hours including transfers. By the time this child arrives at the main hospital, it will be at least 8 p.m.," Ye Zhen said in a clear and organized voice. "Tetralogy of Fallot combined with severe outflow tract stenosis requires open-chest surgery, cardiopulmonary bypass, myocardial resection, and patch suturing. The complexity of this surgery far exceeds that of routine procedures, and we won't be finished until at least 1 or 2 a.m.

Ye Zhen reached out and pushed Gu Zheng's arm away from the back of the chair, her tone revealing a businesslike rationality.

"When I come out of the operating room in the middle of the night, I don't even have the strength to lift my hand to pick up a water glass. What more do you want?"

Gu Zheng had prepared a whole speech to ask for a reward, but the tight schedule he was given caught in his throat, forcing him to swallow it back. Looking at his wife's slightly mocking face, he felt deeply defeated, yet unable to refute her. Before the scalpel and the patient, he, as the military commander, didn't even have the right to be second.

"Okay." Gu Zheng stood up straight resignedly, put his hands back in the pockets of his leather jacket, his voice a little muffled, "You take care of the rescue, I'll take care of the logistics. You go into surgery, I'm going back now."

Ye Zhen didn't rush to leave, but instead looked up at Gu Zheng.

"You just made a phone call to the Air Force Command in front of these experts; that was too aggressive." Ye Zhen tapped the edge of the letter on the table with her pen. "A Y-8 transport plane's takeoff not only requires fuel scheduling but also route approval. You used your position as a superior to pressure Lao Liu in the Air Force, and he didn't dare refuse because of your influence. But if someone with ulterior motives reports this, both you and Lao Liu will be punished."

Gu Zheng raised an eyebrow, unconcerned.

"What's a punishment? To save a life, I, Gu Zheng, can take the blame."

"You can carry it, but there's no need to." Ye Zhen put down her pen, her mind quickly calculating, "Dean Zhou Hai values ​​his reputation the most, and Dean Zhao Degong of Shanghai People's Hospital also loves to show off. You have to let them take the lead in this matter."

Gu Zheng narrowed his eyes and looked at Ye Zhen.

Ye Zhen meticulously dissected the situation: "Go find Dean Zhou now. Have him contact Dean Zhao Degong and, in the name of Shanghai People's Hospital, immediately draft a special-level medical assistance letter and send it directly to the Air Force Command's desk. Transform your illegal operation of 'privately dispatching an aircraft' into a legitimate request for support from brother units to save patients."

"Not only that," Ye Zhen said, quickening her pace. "Have Dean Zhou contact the reporters immediately. Have him send someone with a camera to the tarmac at the western suburbs airport. As soon as the plane lands, it will be a glorious political story of military-civilian unity in rescuing a critically ill child, spanning thousands of miles. As for Dean Zhao, I believe he knows what to do without us having to tell him."

Ye Zhen leaned back in her chair and looked into Gu Zheng's eyes.

"With the article published, the two deans gained exposure, and the reputation of the General Hospital rose even higher. Old Liu from the Air Force not only avoided punishment for approving flight routes in violation of regulations, but also gained a reputation for supporting the government and loving the people. As for you, you owe the Air Force no huge favors and can get away unscathed."

You could hear a pin drop in the office.

Gu Zheng stood rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on Ye Zhen. He was used to battlefield simulations and bloodless victories, but he never expected that his wife, in less than two minutes, could turn a potentially deadlock that could trigger an internal investigation within the military region into a grand scheme where all parties were vying for credit.

His plans were flawless.

Gu Zheng's Adam's apple bobbed, and he suddenly leaned down, placing his hands on the edge of the desk, his face extremely close to Ye Zhen's.

"A female Zhuge Liang." Gu Zheng uttered these four words in a low voice, his eyes full of undisguised admiration. "Wife, I, Gu Zheng, must have burned incense in my past life to be able to marry you and bring you back to the mansion in this life."

Gu Zheng straightened up, turned around and walked towards the door.

"I'll go find Zhou Bapi right now. If I leave this job to him, he can even skip lunch."

As Ye Zhen expected, when Gu Zheng tossed the plan into the dean's office, Zhou Hai not only didn't refuse, but was so excited he almost overturned the teacup on his desk. This was major news that had reached a high level. Once the People's Daily published "A Thousand-Mile Transfer" on its front page, his position as the dean of the main hospital would be completely secure, and no amount of sabotage from his old rival Lin Weiguo would be effective. If major hospitals in Shanghai were transferring patients to our hospital, what was there to say about our hospital's status?

Zhao Degong, president of Shanghai First People's Hospital, was leaning back in his chair, flipping through the day's Liberation Daily. He had just reached the culture section and hadn't finished reading it yet.

The operator knocked on the door and came in, saying that Dean Zhou Hai from Beicheng had called urgently.

Zhao Degong flipped the newspaper face down on the table and took the microphone.

Over the phone, Zhou Hai's voice was filled with barely suppressed energy as he explained the situation in detail: the six-year-old boy with Tetralogy of Fallot had been admitted to the Beicheng Military Region General Hospital, with Dr. Ye personally performing the surgery; Gu Zheng, through military coordination, was arranging for a Y-8 transport plane to fly to Dachang Airport for the transfer; however, a special-level medical assistance letter needed to be drafted immediately in the name of Shanghai People's Hospital and sent to the Air Force Command.

After hanging up the phone, Zhao Degong sat upright in his chair for a moment.

He's been in this business for over thirty years, and he can see things clearly without anyone having to tell him: the military's involvement, the inter-provincial transfer, and reporters waiting on the tarmac—this wasn't an ordinary surgery; it was something that would be recorded in history.

Zhao Degong pressed the call bell on the table, and when his secretary came in, he said, "Draft a formal joint letter. Shanghai First People's Hospital, as the referrer, should express its full support to the Beicheng Military Region General Hospital for treatment; at the same time, request emergency support from the Air Force; and state that our hospital will bear all related costs incurred in this referral. The format must be formal, stamped with the hospital seal, and sent out urgently. Also, have Xiao Wu from the news department come over."

Zhao Degong immediately mobilized the entire administrative system of the institute, stamped the official document with the company seal, and sent it to the Air Force Command by special vehicle at top speed. He also arranged for a vehicle to follow the staff of the press office throughout the entire process.

After arranging all this, Zhao Degong rubbed the extinguished cigarette butt in the ashtray and leaned back in his chair.

With this matter accomplished, a solid connection was established between Shanghai First People's Hospital and Ye Zhen. The value of this connection is immeasurable—she was a female doctor whom even a major military region commander treated with utmost respect.

This is a sure win.

The atmosphere at the Beicheng Military Region General Hospital was extremely tense all afternoon.

Inside the insulated tent in front of the expert training building in the backyard, more than twenty senior directors had lost all interest in discussing drawings. They huddled around the stove, occasionally glancing at their watches.

"The child has boarded the plane."

Upon receiving the call, the veteran experts in the tent all breathed a sigh of relief.

The time was pushed back to 6:40 PM.

In the northern part of the city, darkness falls very early in winter, and the streetlights in the hospital area gradually come on. The northwest wind howls, whipping up the withered leaves on the ground and scraping against the glass of the outpatient building.

In the operating room, all instruments had been sterilized under high temperature and pressure. Head nurse Liu Hongmei, along with three instrument nurses, neatly stacked the sterile packs beside the operating table. The head of the anesthesiology department personally checked the type of endotracheal tube and the anesthesia machine tubing. The extracorporeal circulation machine had also been pre-filled with priming fluid and was emitting a low-frequency hum.

7:15 PM.

Outside the quiet main gate of the hospital, a sharp, urgent siren suddenly pierced the cold night sky of the northern city, growing louder as it approached.

Liu Jianmin was the first to rush out of the surgical consultation room. Gao Haiping, leaning on his crutches, followed behind more than twenty other experts, running in a large group towards the emergency passage outside the outpatient building.

Three military escort vehicles with flashing red and blue lights rushed into the hospital gate first, followed closely by a boxy military ambulance, which came to a steady stop in front of the emergency room access steps.

The rear door of the carriage was forcefully pushed open from the inside. Two air force medics wearing flight jackets jumped out of the vehicle and, together with the emergency room nurses, quickly pulled out a stretcher.

Reporters from the People's Daily carried cameras, their flashlights illuminating the night with a series of dazzling white flashes.

The stretcher was pushed into the brightly lit corridor. Upon seeing the five-year-old boy on the stretcher, all twenty-odd seasoned experts present, accustomed to life and death, fell silent.