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

Beijing Capital International Airport.

Two black imported Volga sedans were parked at the VIP entrance, their bodies gleaming.

Richard, the British Embassy's counselor in China, straightened his tie and stood at the bottom of the steps. Behind him were two translators and four security personnel, making quite a grand entrance.

People come seeking medical treatment.

But the dignity of the British Empire cannot be lost.

The door to the VIP entrance was pushed open.

Sir Williams walked at the front, his black overcoat still dusty from the journey. Young cardiac surgeon Brown followed behind him.

Each of them was tightly clutching a heavy silver briefcase.

Richard immediately went to meet him, his voice steady.

"Sir, the embassy has arranged a welcome banquet for you. This afternoon, we will proceed to the Ministry of Health according to diplomatic procedures..."

"squeak--"

The screeching sound of brakes completely drowned out his words.

A 212 jeep with military license plates sped across the road, cutting directly between the Volga and the steps.

The tires scraped against the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

As soon as the car door opened, Gu Zheng stepped out in his military boots.

He was wearing a crisp green military uniform, without a hat, with the cuffs rolled up to his forearms, and a lazy yet ruthless air about him.

Richard's expression changed.

"Who are you? We are carrying out diplomatic reception arrangements."

Gu Zheng didn't even spare him a glance.

He strode around the front of the car, walked straight to Williams, and extended his hand.

"Sir, we meet again."

Williams looked at the Chinese soldier in front of him, whose smile was rather unreasonable, and gave a wry smile.

"Gu, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Gu Zheng opened the back door of the Jeep.

"Get in the car."

Richard stepped in front of him.

"Wait a minute! The embassy has a scheduled itinerary. What you're doing is not in accordance with diplomatic protocol!"

Gu Zheng then turned his head to look at him.

"Does your embassy perform heart surgery?"

Richard choked.

Gu Zheng raised his hand and tapped the roof of the jeep. The sound was not loud, but it was as hard as a gun bolt.

"The patient is waiting for his life, while you are waiting for your meal."

He looked at Williams.

"Get in my car, head straight to the main hospital, and the medical records will be in the consultation room immediately."

"Get in his car, and you're on your own."

"Jazz, you choose."

Without a second's hesitation, Williams pulled Brown into the jeep.

Gu Zheng slammed the car door shut.

He turned around and gestured with his chin at Richard.

"I intercepted him."

"If you have any complaints, go to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and file a complaint against me."

My surname is Gu.

The jeep spewed out a puff of exhaust fumes and sped away.

Richard and a row of embassy staff stood there, getting their mouths full of dust.

Beicheng Military Region General Hospital.

In Conference Room 1 of the "Heart of China" intervention building, Dean Zhou Hai was standing in front of a long table, personally overseeing the logistics department changing teacups.

"Use that blue and white porcelain set."

He lowered his voice and instructed the translator, Xiao Wang.

"Someone coming in a little while might be from the British Embassy, ​​so be careful with your words. Be polite, but don't be subservient. This is a medical exchange, not a request for favors."

Xiao Wang nodded repeatedly, his palms sweating.

The moment the words were spoken, the conference room door was pushed open.

Gu Zheng led two travel-worn Englishmen in.

Zhou Hai quickly went to greet him.

"Everyone, you must be tired from your journey..."

Uh, why are there only two people?

"Click".

The side door was also opened.

Ye Zhen, wearing a white lab coat and holding red and blue pencils, strode in.

Without even exchanging pleasantries, she went straight to the head seat at the long table and sat down.

"Bring me the medical records."

Zhou Hai's outstretched hand froze.

He subconsciously looked at Gu Zheng.

Gu Zheng leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, pretending not to see.

Williams didn't waste any time and immediately placed the three combination lock boxes on the table and entered the password.

The latch popped open.

Inside, dozens of original English medical records were neatly stacked, along with a stack of plastic-sealed contrast films.

Brown straightened his suit and cleared his throat.

"Dr. Ye, hello. I'm Brown, a cardiac surgeon from the UK. Before we begin reviewing the images, I think it's necessary to introduce you to the preliminary triage criteria developed by the British Medical Association for these children, to avoid any misunderstandings in our judgment..."

Ye Zhen had already reached out and taken the first medical record.

Turn it over.

The pages were turned very quickly.

Page after page of English technical terms, lab reports, and cardiac catheterization data flashed before her eyes.

One page every five seconds.

It was so fast that even the translator, Xiao Wang, couldn't see the title clearly.

Brown's brow furrowed deeper and deeper.

He turned to Williams, lowered his voice, and said in English:

"Sir, this is absurd. She's just skimming the surface. At this speed, she can't even get a complete picture of the basic blood flow data."

Williams did not respond.

His gaze remained fixed on Ye Zhen's hands.

After Ye Zhen finished reading the text, she pulled out a projection image and looked at it under the overhead light.

Just one glance.

"This one won't do."

She pushed the medical record back onto the table.

Brown sneered, finally unable to hold back any longer.

He shouted in English:

"Dr. Ye, this seven-year-old boy has a patent ductus arteriosus. Our ultrasound and angiography show that the diameter of the ductus arteriosus is 0.6 centimeters, which fully meets the criteria for interventional closure."

"You dismissed it after only looking at it for one second. What is your basis for this decision?"

Just as Xiao Wang, the translator, was about to speak.

Ye Zhen replied directly in fluent English.

"The catheter is 0.6 centimeters, that's correct."

She picked up a red and blue pencil and precisely placed the tip on a very faint shadow at the edge of the imaging image.

"But you missed the diagnosis."

"He also has aortic arch coarctation. There is a severe stenosis of about 0.3 centimeters in length in the isthmus of the descending aorta."

The meeting room fell silent.

Ye Zhen looked up at Brown.

"Once you block the ductus arteriosus, the compensatory blood flow to the lower body is cut off."

"The child will die of acute renal failure if he/she doesn't survive the surgery."

Brown's expression changed drastically.

He grabbed the imaging image and stared intently at the location Ye Zhen pointed out.

The shadow was very faint.

When viewed in a normal way, the light fades so much that it is easily mistaken for a projection error and ignored.

But the more he looked, the more cold sweat poured down his forehead.

Ye Zhen is right.

Williams took out a handkerchief and slowly wiped his glasses.

Then, without saying a word, he moved the medical record to the "unacceptable" area.

For the next ten minutes, the only sound in the conference room was Ye Zhen flipping through medical records.

"Splash!"

"Splash!"

Her speed didn't slow down; on the contrary, it got faster and faster.

Brown stood to the side, his lips taut and pale, not daring to utter another word.

"Smack."

Ye Zhen closed the fifth medical record and pushed it directly to the edge of the long table.

"This one is removed."

"I can't do it."

Brown's face flushed red when he saw the name on the cover of the medical record.

Those were patients he had personally treated.

Why?

He said urgently:

"He's only five years old! Single ventricle, pulmonary hypertension. Our hemodynamic model has assessed that he has a chance of survival with a Fontan fenestration!"

Ye Zhen looked at him.

"He had a history of cyanosis for three years, due to chronic hypoxia."

"The pulmonary vascular disease has entered an irreversible stage."

"wrong!"

Brown rushed to the blackboard, grabbed the chalk, and quickly wrote down a complete set of Wood unit calculation formulas, as well as the derivation process of lung resistance.

Chalk dust fell in a flurry.

"Dr. Ye, this is currently the most authoritative computational model in Europe."

"According to cardiac catheterization data, his pulmonary vascular resistance is still within the critical range."

"If the intervention measures are appropriate, he can survive!"

The long blackboard full of numbers made Zhou Hai's eyelids twitch.

Ye Zhen stood up and walked over.

She didn't look at the half-blackboard covered in Brown's writing.

He picked up only half a piece of chalk and wrote three lines of formulas in the blank space next to it.

"Yes."

"Yes."

"Yes."

The chalk struck the blackboard with a clean and crisp sound.

"You are using a static model."

"You overlooked the pulmonary arteriolar intima hyperplasia coefficient caused by long-term hypoxia."

Ye Zhen drew a heavy circle on the final calculated number.

"Based on the full dynamic simulation, his actual pulmonary vascular resistance is more than twice the critical value."

Brown stood frozen in place.

Those three lines of formula were frighteningly short.

But as soon as you plug in the data, the result is a perfect fit, so cold it makes your heart sink.

His proud Western model was shattered by these three lines of text.

Ye Zhen threw down the chalk and dusted off her hands.

"Irreversible pulmonary pressure."

"Inserting the catheter won't save your life; it will immediately trigger massive bleeding."

She looked at Brown and said, word by word:

"This child was originally sentenced to death with a two-year reprieve."

"You want to personally carry out an execution on the operating table?"

Brown's legs went weak, and his back pressed against the blackboard.

The room was completely silent.

Zhou Hai's Adam's apple bobbed, and he asked Gu Zheng in a low voice:

"Are those three lines of formula really that powerful?"

Gu Zheng glanced at him.

"I don't understand, but I know my wife's words are the standard."

Ye Zhen had already walked back to the long table and picked up the red and blue pencils again.

Williams took a deep breath.

He held up the sixth medical record with both hands and handed it to Ye Zhen.

That was the little boy he had promised on the streets of London.

Tom.

Ye Zhen turned to the first page.

Her gaze suddenly stopped.

His brows slowly furrowed.

The atmosphere in the conference room gradually became more tense.