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

12:12 AM.

Beicheng Military Region General Hospital, Family Building.

Gu Zheng leaned against the headboard and flipped through a book called "World Military Affairs".

The table lamp was turned to its dimmest setting. The orange light shone on his profile, highlighting the sharp lines of his cheekbones, as if they had been carved with a knife, and the tautness of his jawline.

When he flipped through the magazine to the armored deployment map of the Middle East theater, his gaze didn't always linger on the paper.

Instead, he would glance to the side every now and then.

Ye Zhen is already asleep.

She lay on her side, breathing evenly, facing him. One hand was under the pillow, and the other was outside the blanket.

His five fingers were slightly curled.

There is a very narrow gap between the thumb and index finger.

That's the standard way to hold a scalpel handle.

Muscle memory that even sleeping can't break.

Gu Zheng's gaze lingered on those five fingers for two seconds.

These hands, just three days ago, brought a stopped heart back to life in front of the world's top cardiac surgeons.

She was draped over a military green cotton quilt, her joints were slender, and her nails were trimmed to a very short length.

Quietly.

Like a sword sheathed.

He reached out, trying to tuck that hand back under the covers.

The moment my fingers touched her fingertips—they were cold.

Gu Zheng frowned and stopped moving.

Just then, the phone on the bedside table rang.

"bell--"

The first ring of the bell hadn't even finished.

Gu Zheng felt as if a switch had been flipped.

His upper body remained completely still. His right hand had already precisely caught the receiver.

He moved so fast that he cut off the last ring of the phone mid-air.

The second sound was not allowed to be heard.

This is an instinct honed on the battlefield; even when asleep, the first sound can determine the location and identify a threat.

Besides, he wasn't asleep.

He glanced at Ye Zhen.

Her eyelashes didn't tremble. Her breathing didn't change.

It's good that he's not awake.

"explain."

His voice was lowered to the lowest possible level, as cold as if it had been chilled by ice.

It's not that I have a problem with the caller.

He has a problem with the fact that "he dared to make a phone call while my wife was sleeping".

The person on the other end of the phone was Zhou Hai.

Zhou Hai's voice clearly carried a suppressed excitement, like a kettle of water that had been boiling so hard that the lid was jumping around, but someone had managed to hold it down with both hands.

"Xiao Gu, it's a big deal."

Zhou Hai took a deep breath.

"Vice Minister Li just made the call personally—"

Then, he explained everything in the fastest way he'd ever spoken.

WHO nomination.

Founding Committee Members.

The Global Cardiovascular Disease Expert Advisory Committee. These aren't ordinary members; they're founding members—the kind who help set the rules, write the bylaws, and decide who gets to sit at the table.

There have been no more than five Asian faces in the past thirty-eight years.

Now, Ye Zhen's name has been personally signed by the WHO Director-General and placed on this table.

Not finished yet.

Vice Minister Li dragged six directors from their beds overnight and made a decision on the spot—

World Summit Forum on Congenital Heart Disease.

The first edition.

In the northern part of the city.

Open it on Chinese territory.

After Zhou Hai finished speaking, heavy breathing came from the other end of the phone.

Gu Zheng listened.

There was a three-second silence.

He casually closed the copy of "World Military" in his hand.

He tossed it onto the bedside table.

The M1A1 main battle tank on the cover was flipped upside down, with its gun barrel pointing downwards, looking quite pathetic.

He didn't say "That's great".

It didn't say "amazing".

He didn't say a single thing a normal person would say in this situation.

He simply turned his head away.

His gaze fell on the sleeping person beside him.

The table lamp was set to its dimmest setting, casting a soft, warm, yellowish light.

It landed right on Ye Zhen's profile.

Her eyelashes were long and curled, hanging quietly. Each one was distinct and easily countable. Her nose was straight, her lips were slightly pursed, and the curve of her chin was clean and sharp.

The man who is decisive and ruthless on the operating table during the day, and who makes academicians of the Soviet Academy of Sciences obediently copy notes while sitting in chairs.

A person who dares to challenge the whole world just by carrying a red and blue pencil.

The person who gets seventeen countries lining up to submit their requests during the day and has the WHO Director-General personally sign his nomination.

She was curled up in his blanket at that moment.

Her hair was spread out on the pillow, with a few strands falling against her cheeks, rising and falling gently with her breath.

Like a tired cat.

Gu Zheng's lips slowly curved into a smile.

The curvature is not large.

But the sharp, ruthless aura he had cultivated over years of licking blood off the edge of a knife completely vanished at that moment.

It transformed into a lukewarm, hidden deep within his chest, an extraordinary pride known only to himself.

The person the whole world wants to take is sleeping next to him.

This one thing alone is enough for Gu Zheng to be proud of for the rest of his life.

"Old Zhou," he finally spoke.

His voice was extremely low, so low it sounded like he was speaking only to himself.

"Please pass on a message to Vice Minister Li for me."

"Go ahead," Zhou Hai replied immediately.

"Regarding the summit..."

Gu Zheng's gaze remained fixed on Ye Zhen's face, on her hand draped over the blanket, and on her five slightly curled fingers, forever gripping a knife.

"I, 761, have taken care of everything: venue, security, and logistics."

"Anyone who dares to cause trouble on my wife's turf—"

He paused for a moment.

The gentle curve of her lips didn't disappear.

But the light in his eyes has changed.

It was the kind of light that the commander of Unit 761 had when he issued the kill order before the battle.

"I, Gu Zheng, will personally entertain you."

On the other end of the phone, Zhou Hai's lips twitched twice.

have to.

The world's leading cardiac surgeons are about to scramble to fly to the north of the city.

British, French, Soviet, American. Knights, academicians, professors, directors.

And Beicheng is a city that is about to become a global mecca for cardiac surgery.

The gatekeeper was a living Yama.

Everyone who comes must follow the rules.

"Alright, I got it." Zhou Hai's voice was tinged with laughter. "You should get some rest."

"Um."

I hung up the phone.

Gu Zheng gently placed the receiver back on the landline.

The movements were very light. So light as if afraid of disturbing something precious.

He turned around.

He looked down at Ye Zhen's hand, which was draped outside the blanket.

The fingers remained in the same position. The thumb and forefinger were slightly curled, leaving a narrow gap between them.

The way to hold a knife.

I can never change this in my lifetime.

Gu Zheng reached out his hand.

Five long, slender fingers with distinct knuckles enveloped her hand, one by one.

Her fingertips were still cold.

He clenched his fist, slowly warming it with the warmth of his palm.

Then, along with the five fingers that were always gripping the knife, he tucked them back into the blankets.

Tuck the blanket in.

It was tucked in tightly.

Not even a wisp of wind could get in.

He turned off the table lamp.

"Clatter".

The room became completely dark.

Only a sliver of light shone through the gap in the curtains, vaguely outlining the silhouettes of the two people.

Gu Zheng's voice rang out in the darkness.

Very low.

"young married woman."

No one responded.

"The whole world wants to take you away."

His breathing was steady.

"But you're only by my side."

Still no one responded.

Ye Zhen was sleeping soundly.

She didn't know that during those few hours she slept—

The telegram from Geneva traveled halfway around the world.

The lights in the Ministry of Health were on all night.

Six department heads were dragged out of bed.

A summit that could rewrite the history of Chinese medicine has quietly taken shape in the dead of night in Beijing.

She knows nothing.

She was just sleeping soundly.

Gu Zheng turned to the side.

In the darkness, his gaze fell precisely in her direction.

Facial features are not clearly visible.

But he knew she was there.

This is enough.