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

When the jeep stopped at the east gate of Peking Union Medical College Hospital, Ye Zhen could see the row of white coats standing on the steps from afar.

Wu Wenqing stood at the very front, surrounded by more than a dozen people, densely packed together. The older ones had gray hair, while the younger ones had brand-new name tags, and they stood ramrod straight under the May sun.

Gu Zheng turned off the engine, glanced at the scene through the windshield, and curled his lips.

"He promised two or three people, but this old man is just fooling me again."

Wu Wenqing had already come forward, walking quickly and extending his hand first.

"Xiao Ye, thank you so much for coming all this way."

Ye Zhen shook hands with him.

"Are the medical records ready?"

"They're all in the conference room on the second floor."

After Wu Wenqing finished speaking, he stepped aside, and the row of white coats behind him automatically made way for him.

A dozen pairs of eyes fell on Ye Zhen, their gazes scrutinizing her as well as showing a hint of unspoken respect.

An elderly expert with white hair stepped forward and offered his hand.

"Dr. Ye, I've heard so much about you. I'm Zhong Youwei from the Department of Internal Medicine."

Ye Zhen shook hands with him.

"Mr. Zhong, you're too kind."

A middle-aged female doctor, in her early forties, with short, neat hair, followed behind Zhong Youwei.

"Dr. Ye, this is Fang Yun from the hematology department. This case was accepted by our department." She paused for a moment, gave a wry smile, and said, "We've been struggling with this for over three months, and we're really at our wits' end."

Ye Zhen nodded.

"Let's look at the information first."

The group walked inside.

Gu Zheng followed at the very back, carrying Ye Zhen's military green handbag.

He wasn't wearing a military uniform; his gray-blue jacket was inconspicuous in the crowd. But his height of over 1.8 meters and his imposing presence made several young doctors unconsciously move half a step to the side.

The conference room on the second floor was small, with a long table covered with documents.

In the very center lay a bound medical record, at least two hundred pages long, next to which were four brown paper bags containing CT scans and X-ray films, and in the corner sat a gleaming binocular microscope with three rows of glass cases of pathology slides stacked beside the lens.

Ye Zhen walked to the table, and Wu Wenqing handed her a brand new white coat. She took it, put it on, and buttoned it up.

Sit down and open the first page of the medical record.

The conference room was packed.

Wu Wenqing sat at the end of the long table, with Zhong Youwei and Fang Yun sitting on either side.

In the back row, folding chairs were the head of the radiology department, a senior professor from the pathology department, and many young resident physicians.

No one spoke.

Ye Zhen flipped through the medical records slowly, carefully examining each page, occasionally pausing to place the pages side by side on the table for comparison.

When she turned to page forty, she looked up.

Did this patient have any history of oral ulcers in the three months prior to admission?

Fang Yun quickly flipped through the copy in her hand.

"Yes, my outpatient records mention recurrent oral ulcers, each lasting one or two weeks and healing on their own. At the time, it was considered to be a symptom of low immunity."

Ye Zhen nodded and continued flipping through the pages.

She flipped to the stack of lab reports, and her finger paused on a particular line.

"Has this globulin been classified?"

Fang Yun was taken aback.

"Electrophoresis was performed, and polyclonal antibodies were elevated."

"What about dividing it further down?"

"no."

Fang Yun's voice softened a little.

"At the time, we mainly considered the possibility of lymphoma and focused our efforts on bone marrow aspiration and lymph node biopsy."

Ye Zhen flipped over the lab report and pulled out the bone marrow aspiration report.

"Two bone marrow aspirations were performed. The first report indicated reactive hyperplasia, while the second report indicated an increase in abnormal cells. It is recommended to rule out lymphoma."

"Yes."

"How long was the interval between these two bone marrow aspirations?"

"Six weeks."

Has the patient's fever pattern changed within the past six weeks?

Fang Yun pulled out the nursing records.

"In the early stages, the fever was irregular, fluctuating around 38 degrees Celsius. In the following four weeks, it turned into periodic high fever, with intervals of about ten to fourteen days."

Ye Zhen lightly traced a line on the bone marrow biopsy report with her finger.

"Periodicity".

She put down the report and closed the medical record.

I didn't look at the films on the lightbox, nor did I touch the microscope.

She stood up.

Which ward is the patient in?

Fang Yun was taken aback.

"Third floor, single room 312."

"Take me to see it."

The people in the conference room exchanged glances.

Wu Wenqing was the first to react, standing up and opening the door.

"Walk."

The group walked up to the third floor.

Several directors who were originally sitting in the back row also came up, and a row of white coats lined up in the corridor.

Gu Zheng didn't follow. He leaned against the handrail of the second-floor staircase, took out a White Rabbit candy from his pocket, and slowly chewed it.

The door to ward 312 was half-open.

Fang Yun went in first and whispered a few words to the nurse on duty.

When Ye Zhen pushed open the door, the first thing she saw was a pothos plant by the window, its leaves curled up, and a layer of dust accumulated in the tray at the bottom of the pot.

The elderly man in the hospital bed was half-sitting with his head resting on the pillow. His face was sallow, his cheekbones were high, and his eyes were sunken.

Three months of recurring high fevers left this person nothing but skin and bones.

But his eyes were still bright.

When Ye Zhen entered, followed by a group of doctors in white coats, the old man's gaze swept across her face with a calmness that suggested he had seen it all before.

"They changed doctors again?"

His voice was hoarse, but his confidence remained.

Fang Yun stepped forward.

"Sir, this is Dr. Ye Zhen from the Beicheng Military Region General Hospital. She was specially invited to give you a consultation."

The old man squinted at Ye Zhen for two seconds.

"young."

Ye Zhen walked to the bedside but didn't speak immediately.

She first glanced at the temperature record sheet on the bedside table.

The nurse drew a zigzag line with a blue ballpoint pen, which rose and fell like a sawtooth—38.7 degrees yesterday afternoon, and 37.5 degrees this morning.

"Hello, may I give you a medical check-up first?"

The old man nodded.

Ye Zhen pushed up the cuffs of her white coat and rubbed her hands together to warm her palms.

She started with the neck.

Bring your right index and middle fingers together and place them behind the angle of the elderly man's jaw, then feel down along the anterior border of the sternocleidomastoid muscle.

The moment her fingertip pressed down, her brow furrowed slightly.

"Does it hurt?"

"It doesn't hurt."

Ye Zhen's fingers continued to move downwards, touching the area above the collarbone and the armpit, one spot at a time.

Her technique is different from that of ordinary internists.

The directors present all noticed it.

That wasn't the usual "press and release" palpation. After placing her fingertips on the skin, she would hold them for two to three seconds, as if feeling the texture of the swollen lymph nodes under the skin—their softness, smoothness, and mobility, going over each of these aspects with her fingertips.

Fang Yun stood at the foot of the bed, watching Ye Zhen's hand move from her neck to her armpit, and then to her groin. The movements were slow, but not a single movement was superfluous.

She suddenly remembered that Ye Zhen had a background in surgery.

The feel of a surgeon's hand is on a completely different level than that of an internist's hand.

Ye Zhen withdrew her hand from the old man's groin and picked up the stethoscope.

"Let me hear it."

The metal parts of the stethoscope were warmed up before being attached.

She listened to the heart first, checking each of the four valve areas in turn without pausing.

Then comes the lungs.

Front chest, sides of chest, back.

The old man took a deep breath and coughed twice.

Ye Zhen took off her stethoscope and hung it around her neck.

"Let me touch my belly."