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

At the same time.

Geneva, fourth floor of the WHO headquarters building.

Six untouched bottles of mineral water sat on the oval table in the conference room.

Outside the window, the sky was a greyish-white in early spring in the Alps, with snow-covered ridgelines hidden behind the clouds.

U.S. Representative Henry sat at the long table by the window, wearing a gray suit and a red tie, the Harvard alumni ring on his left index finger reflecting the light under the overhead lamp.

He pushed a neatly bound document to the center of the table.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Professor Harrison's open letter has been published in the NEJM for a week and has been reprinted by 23 mainstream media outlets around the world."

He glanced around at the five faces at the table.

"I believe that before the Chinese surgical technique has been peer-reviewed and validated by multiple centers, the committee should issue a formal statement suspending the nomination of Chinese doctor Ye Zhen as a founding member, and at the same time recommend that member states carefully consider whether to participate in the so-called summit proposed by China."

The British commissioner sitting opposite him, Crawford, flipped through the documents in his hand without looking up.

"Henry, you used the word 'prudent'."

"Yes."

"In my understanding, prudence is based on having sufficient information."

Crawford closed the document and tapped the cover twice with his finger.

"As far as I know, your Mayo Clinic has not yet obtained Ye Zhen's complete surgical records. Did you suggest pausing after obtaining sufficient information, or were you rushing to make a conclusion without sufficient information?"

Henry's smile remained unchanged.

"Mr. Crawford, Professor Harrison's questions are not directed at any individual, but at the academic norms themselves. Eleven surgeries, no control group, no long-term follow-up—this is not a standard I invented; it is the cornerstone of evidence-based medicine."

"Then let me ask you another question."

Crawford's voice slowed down.

"Last year, your Mayo Clinic refused to treat a British child, the Duke of Cavendish's son, who had advanced Tetralogy of Fallot, and you concluded that surgery was not an option."

Henry's fingers paused on the table for a moment.

"This case was later successfully treated by Dr. Ye Zhen from China."

Crawford leaned back in his chair.

"The child you refused to treat was saved by someone else. Then you turned around and wrote an open letter questioning whether the person who saved the child was up to standard."

He shrugged.

"Don't you think this scene is a little awkward?"

Henry's temple throbbed.

"Mr. Crawford, different cases have different risk assessment criteria, and our refusal to treat patients was based on the analysis conclusions at the time."

"The treatment of Ye Zhen was also based on her analytical conclusions."

Crawford did not back down.

"The only difference is that her conclusion is to dare to do it, while your conclusion is not to do it."

He reached for the bottled water, unscrewed the cap, and took a sip.

"And the ultimate fact is, the child is alive."

The meeting room was silent for a few seconds.

Japanese committee member Yamada cleared his throat, attempting to smooth things over.

"Gentlemen, I don't think we should turn this discussion into an attack on any particular institution. Professor Harrison's academic concerns are reasonable, but Mr. Crawford is also right; clinical results speak for themselves. Perhaps we can wait for the Chinese side to provide more data before making a decision."

Henry's lips tightened.

"Mr. Yamada, I agree to wait for the data. But until the data is available, the nominations should be suspended, and the summit should not receive the WHO's endorsement. This is my formal motion."

Crawford put down his water bottle and glanced at everyone present.

"I oppose this motion. The reason is simple: Sir Williams vouched for Ye Zhen's abilities with his personal professional reputation, and Brompton Hospital submitted a complete surgical observation report to us. At this very moment, Academician Andrei of the Bakulov Center in the Soviet Union is personally studying Ye Zhen's surgical techniques in the north of the city, and even sent a newborn who had been given a death sentence by all the teams in Moscow to China for treatment."

He looked at Henry.

"The world's top institutions are voting with their feet, yet you're here asking everyone to stop with an open letter."

"This isn't prudence, this is blocking the way."

Henry's smile finally vanished.

He opened his mouth to refute, but the chairman of the committee, who was presiding over the meeting, tapped on the table.

"Today's discussion will conclude here. All parties have fully expressed their positions. A final resolution will be made after receiving further information from China."

The meeting adjourned temporarily.

Henry walked out of the conference room with his back ramrod straight.

He turned into a small office at the end of the corridor, closed the door, picked up the phone, and dialed New York.

"Graham".

He didn't exchange pleasantries after the call was connected.

"The British sided with China, the Japanese were on the fence, and the French remained silent throughout."

Harrison's voice came from across the Atlantic, as calm and steady as if he were conducting a pre-operative consultation.

"As expected, Crawford and Williams are from the same circle, and the Royal College of Surgeons has long since reached a consensus."

"So what do we do now?"

Harrison was silent for two seconds on the other end of the phone.

"wait."

"What are you waiting for?"

"Wait for news from Beicheng. If Ye Zhen messes up the newborn that Andrei sent over, we don't need to do anything; the whole situation will automatically turn around."

Henry gripped the microphone tightly.

"What if she hadn't smashed it?"

Harrison did not answer immediately.

Five seconds later, when his voice came again, it was half a degree lower.

"If she really saves that child, Henry, then we're not just dealing with a Chinese doctor anymore."

"The landscape of cardiac surgery is being redrawn."

The phone hangs up.

Henry stood by the window, looking at the snow-capped peaks of the Alps, without saying a word.

The entrance to operating room number two at the Beicheng Military Region General Hospital.

Ye Zhen was scrubbing her hands.

Tap water rinsed her fingertips and between her fingers. Her movements were neither fast nor slow. She cleaned each finger one by one, and used a special brush to scrub the nail crevices three times.

Gu Zheng stood at the door of the locker room.

"The transport doctor from the Soviet side has recovered and is waiting in the corridor, saying he wants to go into the observation room to take a look."

"Let him in."

Ye Zhen turned off the tap, raised her hands, bent her elbows, and water droplets trickled down her forearms.

"Was today's machine more difficult than the last one?"

"The difficulty lies in the size."

"The last child was seven years old, and his heart was about the size of a fist. This one was just born today, and his heart is barely bigger than my thumbnail."

"All the room for error has been reduced tenfold."

"I'll wait for you outside."

Ye Zhen turned and took two steps toward the operating room without looking back.

"Remember to save some food for me."

Gu Zheng's lips curved slightly.

"It's hot."

The automatic door to the operating room closed.

Behind the glass window of the observation room, Andrei was already sitting in the first row.

The black notebook was turned to a blank page, and a fountain pen was held in my hand, the cap off.

Zhou Hai and Liu Jianmin stood behind him.

The Soviet transport doctors were seated in a corner.

The operating light came on.

Ye Zhen stood in front of the operating table and glanced down at the baby in the temperature-controlled tray on the table.

Weight: 2.6 kg.

Her entire body was smaller than the size of her two palms put together.

The baby's chest rose and fell with the rhythm of ECMO, and five or six electrode pads connected to the monitor were attached to the bluish-purple skin. Each electrode pad was about one-third the size of the baby's palm.

"Final preoperative check: blood oxygen?"

"Seventy-one, stable."

"Is the extracorporeal circulation team ready?"

"Ready in position."

Ye Zhen picked up the handle of the number fifteen knife.

Before attaching the blade, her gaze swept over the small body.

The distance from the suprasternal notch to the xiphoid process is less than six centimeters.

Within those six centimeters lies a completely upside-down heart, with two major arteries connected in reverse, and a coronary artery buried deep within the muscle layer.

No one else in the world has ever made this surgery.

Ye Zhen steadied her hand, and the blade fell.

The moment the subcutaneous tissue separated, everyone in the observation room held their breath.

After the sternum was opened, the surgical field was exposed.

The scene under the operating lights left Andrei's pen hovering in mid-air.

He had seen the ultrasound images in his medical records and mentally rehearsed the anatomical structures countless times.

But what I saw when I opened his chest was a completely different world from the imaging report.

The two major blood vessels were in a more twisted position than expected, almost spiraling together.

The fatal abnormal coronary artery was even thinner than Ye Zhen had calculated on the prescription.

It is almost invisible to the naked eye.

A life-saving tube, as thin as a hair, was buried deep within the thick muscle layer of the left ventricular outflow tract.

Andrei's pen nib pressed against the paper, and the ink smudged into a blot, but he was completely unaware.

Liu Jianmin swallowed hard, his voice escaping through clenched teeth.

"This is the kind of dead end that Harrison described in his paper."

Zhou Hai didn't respond.

He stared at the hands operating on the operating table.

Her slender fingers control the range of every movement to the millimeter level.

In operating room number two, only the regular electronic beeping of the electrocardiogram monitor and the soft clanging of forceps on the instrument table remained.

Ye Zhen's voice came from the stage and was broadcast through the loudspeakers in the observation room.

"Internal circulation initiated, temperature reduced to 28 degrees Celsius, preparation for circuit closure."