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

In Shiao Village, it was broad daylight.

Before Xiaoman's courtyard gate was even opened, Zheng Mei came running from the village entrance, her cloth shoes damp with dew, and she was out of breath.

She rushed to Xiaoman's door and pushed open the slightly ajar wooden door.

"Xiaoman's mother, hurry up and pack your things, a car is coming from the north to pick up the child."

Xiaoman's mother was boiling water in front of the stove when she heard this. The fire tongs in her hand fell to the ground with a clatter.

"They're really here?"

"They've really arrived! The ambulance is already at the town entrance, carrying oxygen, arranged by Dr. Ye."

Xiaoman's mother rubbed her hands on her apron, then turned and ran into the inner room.

"His father, his father, get up quickly."

Xiaoman's father rolled over on the kang (a heated brick bed), his eyes not yet fully open.

"What's wrong?"

"The car to pick up the kids has arrived."

Xiaoman's father jumped off the kang barefoot, grabbed the clothes from the head of the bed, and put them on.

Zheng Mei stood in the main room, hunched over and panting. She looked up and saw Xiao Man sitting on the threshold of the inner room, her hands supporting her knees, her lips dark in color.

"Xiaoman, I'm taking you to the North City to see a doctor today. Don't be afraid."

Xiaoman raised her head, her eyes were big and dark, she looked at Zheng Mei for two seconds, and nodded.

Footsteps suddenly sounded outside the courtyard gate; it wasn't just one person, but several.

Zheng Mei straightened up and looked towards the door.

Cao Qing stood in the courtyard with two people from the town's health center, followed by Lao Liu, the village accountant.

Cao Qing had a smile on his face and was holding a piece of paper in his hand.

"Is Xiaoman's dad home?"

Xiaoman's father came out from the inner room and saw Cao Qing; his expression changed.

Cao Qing took two steps forward and held up the paper.

"I have something to tell you. Those people who came a couple of days ago weren't doctors from Beicheng. They were swindlers who specialize in scamming people from the mountains. Don't fall for their tricks."

Xiaoman's mother peeked out from behind Xiaoman's father.

"A scammer? Dr. Ye examined my child, said he had a heart problem, and even gave him a red card."

Cao Qing waved his hand.

"What red card? Those are all fake. Anyone can print a red cover on the outside. Think about it, is there such a thing as free surgery?"

Xiaoman's father's expression shifted back and forth between hesitation and fear.

He glanced down at the red card he was clutching in his hand; the edges of the card were already soaked with sweat.

Cao Qing took another step forward, lowering his voice.

"And let me tell you, there's a rule in town that if you let outsiders see a doctor without permission, your relief grain will be confiscated. Your family's 300 jin of grain rations for this year will be gone."

Xiaoman's mother's face turned pale instantly, and she grabbed Xiaoman's father's sleeve.

"His father."

Zheng Mei came out of the main room and stood in the middle of the courtyard.

She was clutching a piece of paper in her hand, the simple screening criteria that Ye Zhen had left behind before she left.

"Cao Qing, stop lying to me."

Cao Qing glanced at her sideways.

"Teacher Zheng, this is none of your business. You're just a substitute teacher; you only need to take care of your students."

Zheng Mei unfolded the paper and raised her voice so that everyone in the courtyard could hear her.

"Dr. Ye is an expert at the Beicheng Military Region General Hospital and the initiator of the Huaxia Heart Foundation. Her red card has a number, an official seal, and her own signature."

Cao Qing's smile faded.

"Zheng Mei, don't be ungrateful. The town sent me to inform them, but you insisted on causing trouble."

Zheng Mei carefully put the paper away and tucked it into her cotton-padded coat pocket, then looked up and stared directly at Cao Qing.

"What are you notifying them of? Are you telling them not to save their own child's life?"

Cao Qing's face turned red.

"What do you know about medicine when you're just a substitute teacher? I'm the deputy director of the health center."

"You're the vice dean, have you ever listened to Xiaoman's heart? Do you know why his lips are purple? Do you know that he has to squat down after walking twenty steps because of lack of oxygen?"

Zheng Mei's voice was trembling, but she pronounced each word clearly.

Cao Qing was speechless; he opened his mouth but couldn't say anything.

The courtyard was quiet for a few seconds.

Xiaoman sat on the threshold, her hands supporting her knees, her breathing light and rapid.

He stood up and tried to walk into the yard.

One step, two steps, three steps.

When he reached the eighteenth step, his legs bent down, and he slowly squatted down on the ground, supporting himself on his knees with his two small hands, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Xiaoman's father watched his son squatting in the middle of the yard, and saw the color of his lips on that thin face gradually darken.

His eyes reddened.

He gripped the red card in his hand even tighter.

Then he turned around, grabbed the carrying pole from behind the door, and held it in front of him, blocking Cao Qing's way.

"We can do without the grain."

His voice was hoarse, as if something was stuck in his throat.

"The child can't be delayed any longer."

Cao Qing took a step back.

"What are you doing? You're obstructing official business."

Xiaoman's father gripped the carrying pole tightly, his knuckles turning blue, his eyes fixed on Cao Qing.

"Try stopping them again."

Qingshan Town Health Center, 9:40 a.m.

The lights in the archives room stayed on all night, and newspapers were pasted on the windows, so you couldn't see anything happening inside from the outside.

Three tables were pushed together in the room, and blank notebooks and old watches were spread out on the tabletops. Four people sat around them, some copying and some stamping. A box of red inkpads was placed on the corner of the table, the lid was open, and the inkpads were still wet.

A young staff member rubbed his sore wrist and put down his pen.

"Brother Zhang, the one for Shiao Village is finished. Please check if the date is correct."

The middle-aged man next to him, called Brother Zhang, took the book, flipped through a couple of pages, and frowned.

"The signature has to be changed. The name of Uncle Zhao San from last time can no longer be used. He has been in contact with those people from Beicheng."

"Then who should we replace them with?"

"The village's new women's director has never met those people before."

The young officer nodded and picked up his pen to rewrite it.

Suddenly, the sound of car engines came from outside the door—not one, but two.

Everyone in the archives looked up.

Brother Zhang stood up, walked to the window, and peeked out from behind a crack in the newspaper.

Two military green Beijing Jeeps stopped in front of the health center. The doors opened and five or six people got out. The one in the lead was wearing a dark woolen overcoat, followed by a young man carrying a briefcase.

Brother Zhang's expression changed.

"Quick, put them away, put them all away."

The people inside frantically stuffed the blanks on the table into the drawers, knocking over the inkpad box and smearing red ink onto someone's sleeve.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor, quick and rapid.

The door to the archives was pushed open from the outside.

Xiao Chen stood at the door, his gaze sweeping over the four people in the room, over the blank forms on the table that hadn't been put away yet, and over the overturned inkpad.

He didn't say anything, but stepped aside.

Vice Minister Li walked in.

All four people in the room stood up, their posture unsteady. One of them was still holding a pen, the ink from the pen tip dripping onto his trouser leg.

Vice Minister Li ignored them, walked to the table, and looked down at the surface.

There was still a notebook left on the table, the ink was not yet dry, and the handwriting on the paper was too neat. The names in the signature column were obviously written by the same person.

The inkpad next to it had its lid facing upwards, and fresh marks were still visible on the red inkpad surface.

Vice Minister Li reached out and picked up the booklet.

He looked at it for three seconds, then put it down.

Then he turned to Xiao Chen.

"Sealed up".

Xiao Chen quickly pulled out a stack of seals and a roll of packing tape from his briefcase.

"All paper materials in this room, including those on the table, in the drawers, and in the cabinets, must be sealed up as they are. No one may take them away or destroy them."

Brother Zhang's mouth moved slightly.

"Comrade, we are compiling data."

Vice Minister Li turned to look at him.

"Data compilation?"

He pointed to the box of wet inkpad on the table.

"At seven in the morning, four people were closing the door, sealing the windows, and stamping new documents with wet ink. Is this what you call data organization?"

Zhang Ge's face turned pale.

Vice Minister Li's gaze fell on the red ink stain on his cuff.

"Was that red stain on your sleeve removed during the cleaning process?"

Brother Zhang pulled his hands behind his back and lowered his head.

Footsteps sounded again outside the door, hurried and panting.

Ma Guoliang appeared at the end of the corridor, his shirt collar askew and his hair disheveled, clearly having just jumped out of a car.

He rushed to the door of the archives room and saw Vice Minister Li standing inside, then paused.

"Minister Li, what brings you here?"

Vice Minister Li did not turn around.

"Comrade Ma Guoliang, you've come at just the right time."

He pointed to the still-wet ink on the booklet on the table.

"Did you arrange for this material to be made, or did they make it themselves?"

Ma Guoliang's gaze swept across the table, his Adam's apple bobbing twice.

"Minister Li, this is grassroots comrades doing data sorting and archiving work, and their methods may be a bit rough."

Vice Minister Li turned around and faced him directly.

"Rough?"

He picked up the booklet from the table and held it up in front of Ma Guoliang.

"The signature date on this paper is three months ago, the ink is from this morning, and the ink pad hasn't dried yet."

He put the paper back on the table.

"Comrade Ma Guoliang, this is not called rough, this is called forgery."

Ma Guoliang's lips moved twice, but no sound came out.