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

It was 11 p.m. that night.

Beijing.

Vice Minister Li had just finished washing his feet, and one foot was already inside his slipper, when the phone on the table suddenly rang loudly.

The bell rang shrilly and urgent, like a death knell knocking on the door.

He frowned, reached over, and grabbed the receiver.

"Vice Minister Li, it's me."

The voice on the other end of the phone was that of Director Fang from the Protocol Department of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

Calling in the middle of the night—Director Fang isn't usually that bold. For him to come at this hour, it must be something serious.

Vice Minister Li's drowsiness vanished almost instantly.

"explain."

"A telegram from Geneva twenty minutes ago."

Director Fang's voice was very low, but he spoke very quickly, as if he was afraid that if he spoke too slowly, he wouldn't believe it himself.

"Dr. Mahell, Director-General of the WHO, personally signed a special proposal—"

"We have officially nominated Dr. Ye Zhen to join the 'Global Cardiovascular Disease Expert Advisory Committee'."

"Not an ordinary committee member."

Director Fang managed to squeeze out four words.

"He is a founding member."

Founding Committee Members.

Vice Minister Li knew better than anyone the weight of those four words.

The WHO's expert advisory committee has always been a fortified group of Europeans and Americans. In its 38 years of existence, it has had no more than five Asian members.

Founding committee members—that means they weren't "invited to the table."

That person was the one who "helped decide the size of the table and who could come to eat."

Rule makers.

"Where is the original telegram?" Vice Minister Li's voice was now fully clear, each word pronounced precisely and forcefully.

"The password has already been faxed to your office. I'll have someone—"

"Need not."

Vice Minister Li pulled open the drawer and took out a set of keys.

"Call me a car right now."

"Huh? Where to?"

"Ministry of Health"

Vice Minister Li had already started putting on his leather shoes. He hadn't even properly put on his socks yet, and was walking with the heels of his shoes on.

"Summon Director Lin of the International Department, Lao Sun of the Medical Administration Department, and everyone from the Science and Education Department."

"Now?" Director Fang's voice took a turn. "It's already eleven o'clock."

"What's wrong with eleven o'clock?" Vice Minister Li slammed his hand on the table, splashing tea everywhere.

"Geneva is seven hours ahead of us! It's 4 PM there! News reporters from all over the world are watching the WHO headquarters!"

"If we wait until tomorrow morning to have a meeting to discuss and analyze this—"

He slung his coat over his shoulder and lowered his voice, which carried more weight than a shout.

"By the time we finish our research, the news will be all over the world. Will they be reporting on us, or will we be setting the tone ourselves?"

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.

"I'll arrange it right away."

Forty-five minutes later.

Small conference room on the third floor of the Ministry of Health.

The fluorescent lights cast a harsh, white light, making it almost as bad as a morgue.

The radiator creaked and groaned in the corner, but the atmosphere inside was hotter than the streets of the northern city in December.

Six bureau-level officials, dragged out of bed, sat in a circle.

Some people still had messy hair, some wore military coats over their pajamas, and some had their belts tied crookedly.

Extremely disheveled.

But no one dared to complain.

Because of Vice Minister Li's expression—it looked like he wanted to devour someone.

The original WHO telegram was copied seven times, one for each person, and placed on the table.

Vice Minister Li did not sit down.

He stood at the head of the long table, his hands supporting him on the edge, his gaze sweeping from left to right, scrutinizing each of the six people.

"You've seen them all?"

Everyone nodded.

"Then let me ask you—"

Vice Minister Li straightened up and slammed the telegram onto the table.

"What is this?"

No one dared to speak.

Director Lin of the International Department, having dealt with foreigners before, was a bit bolder.

"This is... the highest academic recognition given by the WHO to Comrade Ye Zhen—"

"fart."

Vice Minister Li slashed out with a single word, completely cutting off the second half of Director Lin's sentence.

"This is a card."

He stuck a finger into the telegram.

"A card that the whole world is fighting over."

"The Cavendish family's surgical techniques spread from London to New York to Tokyo, becoming known far and wide. Seventeen countries lined up for Ye Zhen's surgical diagrams, but we suppressed them. Even Andrei from the Soviet Union flew over personally, but we also stopped him."

"Now the WHO has personally stepped in and given her a ticket to the highest level in the world."

He glanced around, his shrewdness sharper than a knife.

"You're telling me—we're just taking over and that's it? We're just waiting for them to hold a meeting for her in Geneva, issue her a certificate, shake her hand, and take a picture?"

"And then what? Then the world's cardiac surgery conferences are still held in London, New York, and Tokyo. And the Chinese come back with a 'founding committee member' appointment letter and hang it on the wall?"

Old Sun from the Medical Administration Department was a man of few words, but quick-witted. He pushed up his glasses and tentatively began to speak.

"You mean... we can't just take the blows, we have to make our own moves."

Vice Minister Li finally showed his first smile of the night.

I'm not laughing at Old Sun for being clever.

Finally, someone caught up with the laughter.

"What I mean is—"

He grabbed a pencil from the table and drew a large circle in the blank space of the telegram.

There were three words written in the circle.

Home game.

"We're not going to Geneva."

Vice Minister Li's voice was not loud, but every word landed on the floor, echoing.

"Let the whole world come to China."

Six pairs of eyes widened in unison.

"So many countries around the world are lining up for Ye Zhen's surgical data. Andrei is practically glued to his desk in Beicheng. Brompton in England is practically bringing his entire team over..."

He threw the pencil on the table.

"Don't all these people want to learn? Okay."

"Let's hold a summit."

"World Summit Forum on Congenital Heart Disease"

"The first one."

"In the northern part of the city. On Chinese territory."

Director Lin's mouth was agape in an "O" shape, and he couldn't close it for a long time.

The young director of the Science and Education Department dropped his pen onto the table with a "clatter," without even realizing it.

Vice Minister Li held up three fingers.

"First, taking the WHO nomination as an opportunity, this initiative was jointly launched by the Chinese Ministry of Health and the WHO. We hold the power to host it. We set the agenda, write the standards, and establish the rules."

"Secondly, Ye Zhen's 'transapical radical surgery' and autologous pericardial valve conduit technology will be the core topics of the summit. Anyone in the world who wants to learn, come to Beicheng. Once you're here, follow our rules: training slots, technology licensing, we'll discuss it point by point."

"third……"

He paused for a moment.

His gaze fell on the words "Founding Committee Member" on the telegram.

"At the opening ceremony of the summit, the WHO Director-General personally presented Ye Zhen with the letter of appointment as a founding member."

"It wasn't sent out secretly in the Geneva office."

"It was delivered in front of hundreds of top experts from around the world, on our own turf in China, and in front of the entire world."

Old Sun was the first to react. He leaned forward halfway, his eyes shining like light bulbs behind his glasses.

"Vice Minister, if this can be accomplished—"

"Did it work out?"

Vice Minister Li chuckled, grabbed his coat from the back of the chair, and draped it over his shoulder.

"It's not 'if,' it's 'must.'"

He glanced at the clock on the wall.

11:57.

"Director Lin, please draft a formal letter for me now to the WHO Director-General's Office. You can refine the wording, but the core message is the same—China is willing to host the first World Summit Forum on Congenital Heart Disease."

"Old Sun, you're in charge of coordinating with the Commission of Science, Technology and Industry for National Defense and the General Hospital of the Beicheng Military Region regarding the site and security plan. For the military region, just contact Zhou Hai directly and tell him it's my idea."

"Department of Science and Education, please put the budget on my desk by noon tomorrow."

He opened the conference room door, and a cold wind rushed in from the corridor, making the telegrams on the table rustle.

Vice Minister Li stood at the door and glanced back at the group of subordinates inside who were completely disoriented from the ordeal.

"What are you all standing there for?"

He knocked on the door frame.

"The world's top cardiac surgeons are about to line up and fly to Beicheng."

"If we can't even prepare a decent venue—"

He snorted coldly.

"Xiao Ye can hold up half the sky by herself, and you bunch of people can't even set up a table properly?"

The door slammed shut.

In the corridor, the sound of leather shoes stepping on the terrazzo floor was rapid and firm.

One, one, one.

Farther.

They walked faster and faster.