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

The atmosphere at the family dinner was even more subtle than Ye Zhen had anticipated.

On the long mahogany dining table, the dishes were lavishly arranged, almost excessively so, with the aroma of Moutai liquor mingling with the exquisite Suzhou-style cuisine. Three generations of the Gu family were all present, each with a smile on their face, but few of those smiles reached their eyes.

Ye Zhen was seated next to Gu Zheng, directly facing Old Master Gu. This position itself was a silent declaration.

"Xiao Ye is a doctor at the Beicheng Military Region General Hospital? So young, that's truly remarkable." The one who spoke was Gu Zheng's aunt, a plump woman wearing a jade bracelet. Her words sounded like a compliment, but her eyes were like X-rays, trying to see right through Ye Zhen.

Ye Zhen put down her chopsticks and replied with a smile, "Auntie, you flatter me. I'm just an ordinary surgeon."

"Hey, how could someone Brother Zheng has his eye on be ordinary?" A stylishly dressed young woman with curly hair spoke up. She was Gu Zheng's cousin, named Gu Linlin, and the one who had given him that hostile look when she entered. She swirled her wine glass and asked seemingly innocently, "Sister Ye, what malls do you usually shop at in Beicheng? Last time I went to Shanghai, I saw a Bulgari Serpenti bag at the Henglong Plaza; it was so beautiful, but I couldn't get it. The Wangfujing Hotel in Beijing also has a Bulgari counter; I'll take you there next time?"

She spoke quickly, rattling off several nouns in quick succession. Some of the younger women in the living room wore knowing smiles, as if they were watching a good show.

This was a show of force, using the extravagance of their circle to highlight Ye Zhen's poverty.

Ye Zhen's expression remained unchanged. She thought about it seriously for a moment, then shook her head sincerely: "Bulgari? I don't know it. I don't go shopping; I spend most of my time at the hospital."

Gu Linlin's smugness deepened, and she said again:

"How about I take you to an art exhibition? You've heard of Monet, the Impressionist, right?"

"I don't really understand Impressionist paintings," Ye Zhen said casually.

A flash of disdain crossed Gu Linlin's face. "Now that we're in the capital, we can't just stay home all the time! What are you interested in, sister?"

"I want to go to the bookstore and buy some medical books. Right now, I'm only interested in treating illnesses."

Ye Zhen didn't stop, continuing in an academic tone: "Like Monet of the Impressionist movement, he suffered from cataracts in his later years, which severely impaired his vision. This directly led to huge changes in the colors and brushstrokes of his paintings, making them more abstract and unrestrained. Therefore, a person's health condition can often reveal a lot of unknown information behind their works."

The entire dining table fell silent instantly.

Everyone stared at Ye Zhen in disbelief. No one had expected that she could use this method to steer a topic about flaunting wealth onto the medical track.

That day, she talked me to death.

Gu Linlin's face flushed red and then turned pale, her mouth agape, unable to utter a single word.

Gu Zheng remained silent, watching with great interest. At that moment, he picked up a piece of deboned fish and placed it into Ye Zhen's bowl with utmost naturalness, his actions as intimate as if he had done it a thousand times before.

"Eat more, you're too thin." His voice wasn't loud, but it was loud enough for everyone at the table to hear.

Ye Zhen glanced at him, said nothing, and silently ate the piece of fish.

This battle, fought without gunfire, ended in a complete victory for Ye Zhen.

After dinner, the men went to the study to discuss business, while the women gathered on the sofa in the living room to chat and drink tea. Ye Zhen wanted to find an excuse to slip away, but Grandma Gu grabbed her hand.

"Good child, come, sit here with Grandma." The old lady patted the seat next to her. Her hands were warm, and her palms had some thin calluses, unlike those of a pampered noblewoman.

Surrounded by a group of women, they were asking him nothing more than how many people were in his family and what his parents did for a living.

Ye Zhen didn't hide anything or embellish anything; she simply stated the facts calmly: "I grew up in the Lin family, but I only recently found out that I'm not their biological daughter. I've already been kicked out."

Her words silenced the surroundings instantly. The ladies exchanged glances, their expressions a mixture of surprise, disdain, and barely concealed schadenfreude.

A fake heiress who usurped the family home? Or was she kicked out? When did Ah Zheng's judgment become so poor?

Grandma Gu gripped her hand tightly, a hint of heartache in her cloudy eyes. "Good child, you've been wronged." She gently patted Ye Zhen's hand, her voice gentle yet firm. "That's all in the past. From now on, this is your home."

A simple sentence, yet like a warm current, unexpectedly struck Ye Zhen's heart. From childhood to adulthood, she had never felt such unconditional tenderness and protection from an elder.

Her nose suddenly felt sore.

It was late at night, and Ye Zhen was arranged to stay in the guest room next to Gu Zheng's. She had just finished washing up and was about to read for a while when there was a knock on the door.

It was Gu Zheng. His hair was still wet, and he was only wearing a loose bathrobe.

"I can't reach my back to wipe it." He said succinctly and confidently, as if it were a matter of course.

Ye Zhen frowned, but thinking of the injury on his leg, she didn't say anything and followed him into his room.

The bathroom was still filled with a misty steam, mixed with the fresh scent of shower gel. Gu Zheng took off his bathrobe, revealing his muscular upper body, and lay down on a massage bed in the bedroom.

His back was broad, with smooth and powerful muscles. But what was most striking were the crisscrossing scars. Some were old wounds, faded to a pale white; others were new wounds, the pink flesh not yet fully healed. Each scar was like a silent medal, telling the story of the bullets this man had endured.

Ye Zhen's hand, which had picked up the towel, paused for a moment. She had seen countless scarred bodies, but for the first time, these scars felt somewhat burning hot to the touch.

She silently wiped the water droplets from his back, her fingers inevitably tracing the uneven scars. Some looked like centipedes, others like tree branches, menacingly clinging to his skin.

Her heart skipped a beat for no apparent reason.

Just then, Gu Zheng suddenly grabbed her hand that was wandering on his back. His palm was large and hot, like an iron clamp, completely enveloping her small hand.

He suddenly exerted his strength and flipped over.

Caught off guard, Ye Zhen was pulled down by him. In a dizzying moment, she found herself trapped between his chest and the wall.

The distance between the two instantly shrank to the point where they could hear each other's breaths.

He looked up at her, his dark eyes as deep as a whirlpool in the warm bathroom light.

"Dr. Ye," he said, his voice slightly hoarse and magnetic from just having showered, "my heart is racing again."

He grabbed her hand and pressed it against his left chest.

"Thump, thump, thump..."

A strong, powerful heartbeat, transmitted clearly through her thin chest muscles, reached her palms, each beat sending shivers down her spine.

"What's the reason this time?" He stared at her, his eyes filled with a hint of aggressive inquiry.

Ye Zhen forced herself to calm down, her professional knowledge rapidly processing her thoughts. However, what she smelled was the fresh scent of his shower gel and the intense aroma of his masculine hormones; what she saw was the heaving muscles of his chest and the burning flame in his eyes.

At this moment, science and logic seem so pale and powerless.

She pushed him away forcefully, turned her face away, and refused to look into his eyes.

"The physiological response to hormonal influences," her voice sounded a little more tense than usual, "does not have clinical diagnostic value."

After saying that, she practically fled, quickly walking out of his room.

Gu Zheng watched her slightly flustered back, then looked down at his chest where the warmth of her fingertips still lingered, and the smile on his lips deepened.

This cat, covered in thorns, seems to have lost some of its sharpness in its claws.