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

The air in the conference room on the top floor of the military hospital was so thick it felt like it had frozen; you could hear a pin drop.

Grandpa Gu's words, "academic discussion," were like an invisible command, nailing everyone to their seats.

Every single director and expert in the dean's office was "invited" over. The long conference table was packed, and everyone's face showed a mixture of helplessness and curiosity at being "forced to watch the gods fight."

Dr. Klaus was seated in the head seat. He had blond hair, blue eyes, a high nose, and an undisguised elitist arrogance in his gaze.

When Dean Li explained that the "seminar" was to discuss a surgical plan proposed by a "young Chinese colleague," Klaus let out a sneer in German.

"Medicine is not child's play."

The voice wasn't loud, but the contemptuous tone was so obvious that the interpreter didn't even need to translate; everyone present understood it.

Standing behind Ye Zhen, Gu Zheng was expressionless, but his eyes instantly turned as cold as ice.

The temperature in the conference room seemed to drop a few degrees.

Ye Zhen seemed not to hear. She just sat there quietly, her slender figure standing out like a scalpel sheathed among the experts in white coats, some with bulky figures and others with serious expressions—silent, yet sharp in its own way.

In order to dispel General Chen's "absurd" idea once and for all, and in order to maintain his authority as a West German expert, Klaus decided to give this arrogant Chinese girl a lesson.

He pulled a medical record and several X-ray films from his black leather briefcase, slammed them onto the center of the conference table, and slid them in front of Ye Zhen.

"This is a surgery I performed in Munich last month." Klaus, arms crossed, leaned back in his chair and spoke condescendingly, while the interpreter translated simultaneously, "The patient, male, 42 years old, suffered multiple ligament tears in his shoulder joint due to a skiing accident, combined with a bone defect in the anterior inferior aspect of the glenohumeral joint. Young lady," he emphasized the word "young lady," "if you can explain my surgical approach, I'll acknowledge that you're qualified to sit here and discuss the case with me."

This isn't a discussion; it's clearly a public exam, and one that's deliberately designed to make things difficult.

Dean Li and the other directors' expressions instantly became subtle, all revealing expressions of anticipation for a good show.

This question is too tricky. Let alone a twenty-year-old girl, even a senior director of orthopedics who has spent his whole life in the hospital would have to study this unfamiliar and complicated case for a long time.

All eyes were on Ye Zhen.

There was sympathy, there was sarcasm, there was curiosity.

Ye Zhen finally moved.

She didn't look at the experts' faces, nor did she look into Klaus's eyes. She simply reached out her long, slender, fair hands, picked up the medical record, flipped through it quickly, and then glanced at the X-ray.

The whole process took only about half a cigarette's worth of time.

The meeting room was so quiet you could hear each other breathing.

Just when everyone thought she was about to give up or was talking nonsense, Ye Zhen put down the film.

She didn't answer Klaus's question. Instead, she raised her cool, clear eyes, looked at him, and asked him in return:

"Three months after the surgery, has this patient developed chronic muscle atrophy in their right upper arm, and is the shoulder pain at night not only not lessening but actually worsening?"

Her voice was calm, as if she were stating a result she already knew.

The translator paused for a moment before translating the sentence.

The color drained from Klaus's face in an instant!

The arrogance and contempt on his face froze instantly, like being doused with a bucket of cold water in the dead of winter, replaced by a look of utter horror as if he had seen a ghost.

Because Ye Zhen's words were absolutely accurate! The patient recovered well after the surgery, but these two points became the only lingering problems that he couldn't understand, leaving the seemingly perfect surgery with its only flaw.

Only he and the patient knew about this; how could she possibly know?!

Before he could answer, Ye Zhen had already stood up and walked to the blackboard hanging at the front of the conference room.

"Your surgical plan only addressed the ligament repair issue." She picked up a piece of chalk and spoke without turning her head, her voice echoing clearly in everyone's ears, "but you overlooked the changes in joint capsule volume caused by bone defects, as well as the potential risk of compression of the subcoracoid nerve."

"Therefore, the correct approach should not be to simply perform ligament repair."

Ye Zhen turned around and faced a group of dumbfounded experts. She quickly drew an extremely accurate anatomical diagram of the shoulder joint on the blackboard with chalk.

The lines, the proportions—it was as if she had a CT scanner installed in her head.

"The procedure should be performed arthroscopically using a modified version of the Latarjet procedure to remove the coracoid process along with the attached conjoint tendon and transfer it to the anterior inferior aspect of the glenoid cavity to restore joint stability."

"Most importantly, while performing coracoid process graft fixation, the tense anterior wall of the joint capsule must be released, and any musculocutaneous nerves that may be stretched must be explored and released."

"Only in this way can we restore joint stability while completely eradicating postoperative chronic pain and muscle atrophy caused by nerve entrapment and joint capsule contracture!"

Latarjet surgery? Coracoid process transplant? Joint capsule release?

A series of unheard-of yet logically sound terms exploded like thunderclaps in the conference room.

All the Chinese experts present, including the dean, listened with their eyes almost popping out of their sockets and their mouths half-open, just like elementary school students listening to gibberish in class, yet they felt as if a door to a new world had suddenly opened before their eyes!

Klaus's face, which had been flushed, was now deathly pale, and fine beads of cold sweat were even seeping from his forehead.

He stared at Ye Zhen as if he had seen a ghost.

The "improved minimally invasive version of Latarjet" that Ye Zhen mentioned is a cutting-edge research project that his mentor at the Heidelberg University Medical Center has just entered the clinical research stage!

Who exactly is this 20-year-old Chinese girl?!

Ye Zhen ignored his shock. She erased the drawing on the blackboard and redrawn General Chen's shoulder joint structure.

This time, she fully embraced "teaching mode".

"Now, let's look back at General Chen's condition."

She spoke slowly, but every word carried an unquestionable authority.

"A classic case of subacromial impingement syndrome, complicated by a massive tear of the supraspinatus tendon. Dr. Klaus believed the surgical field was too poor to operate on. This view was based on the limitations of traditional arthroscopic surgery."

"However, if we change the approach and use two auxiliary channels, the posterolateral and the anteromedial, to establish a cross-view, we can perfectly avoid the osteophytes and reach the core of the lesion directly."

"As for grinding down bone spurs, there's no need for large incisions at all. Using a 3.5-millimeter diameter drill, through the working channel we've established, we can precisely grind down the hypertrophic acromion's lower edge, just like repairing a work of art, completely eliminating the impact."

She eloquently recounted a series of logically rigorous, interconnected, and forward-thinking theories that far surpassed the understanding of this era.

She wasn't talking about a surgical plan.

She was talking about the future of shoulder surgery!

The entire conference room was completely silent.

All the experts, as if their souls had been ripped out, tilted their heads back, staring at the slender figure in front of the blackboard, listening with utter rapt attention.

Even Grandpa Gu, who had been resting with his eyes closed, opened them, his deep gaze revealing undisguised shock and admiration.

Klaus was completely stunned.

Cold sweat had soaked the back of his shirt. He knew that, theoretically, he had lost miserably.

But his pride made him lose face.

He jumped to his feet, his mouth sharp but his heart pounding with panic, and practically roared, "Theory! It's all theory! A surgeon's battlefield is the operating table! You don't even know where the arthroscopy switch is, what right do you have to be the surgeon?!"

Although this was a last-ditch effort, it also pointed out the most fatal problem.

No matter how brilliant the theory is, it's worthless if you can't put it into practice.

Dean Li looked at Old Master Gu with a troubled expression, just about to take the opportunity to refuse this "high-stakes gamble".

Old Master Gu gently tapped the table with his knuckles.

"Thump."

He raised his eyes, scanned the entire room, and finally fixed his gaze on the dean before slowly opening his mouth.

"Since Old Li is in a difficult position, I have a suggestion."

"Pack up your $200,000 equipment and transfer it to the North City Military Region General Hospital."

A meaningful smile appeared on the old man's lips.

"Whether it's a mule or a horse, we'll have to put it to the test. What do you say, Dean Li?"