Capturing the Young Doctor's Heart: Mr. Big Shot Won't Let Me Go-Chapter 121: This Is Outrageous

The medicinal herbs had just been collected when, true to prediction, a sudden downpour began.

The brotherly bodyguard had just returned from outside, managing to avoid the rain.

He stepped over the threshold and walked over to the person busy at the counter, asking, "Has Miss Prescott returned?"

Tiger, staring at his phone, answered without looking up, "She’s back."

A little while later.

He suddenly leaned over to show the bodyguard his phone: "Look at this, does this seem like someone bedridden?"

The camera was facing a clean, pink bed, with a stuffed doll on it, and the quilt was raised, faintly outlining a little girl lying beneath. The shot was taken from afar, making it impossible to clearly see her face or determine if she was indeed gravely ill.

Tiger explained, "Lately, Sister Claire has been running around constantly, only to find these patients aren’t really critically ill. They’re just nuisances from wealthy families, wanting Sister Claire to make house calls. As of now, five patients are waiting for her to visit. I’m reviewing patient information."

The sound of the drizzle outside almost drowned out his voice, reverberating and sinking into the heavy hall.

After hearing this, the brotherly bodyguard enlarged the photo a bit, "I can’t tell, but the side profile looks familiar."

Tiger nodded vigorously, "Now that you mention it, it does look familiar, like I’ve seen it somewhere before." 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

...Silence fell instantly.

The bodyguard didn’t continue the conversation, returning to his post by the grinder.

It felt a bit cold, not easy to get along with.

Tiger didn’t dwell on it further, typing a message: [Hello, is it convenient for a video call? Dr. Prescott is quite busy, and I want to confirm if your lady’s symptoms warrant a house call.]

The response came: [Sorry, not convenient.]

A slight feeling of helplessness.

But he remained calm and continued typing, [If the patient’s condition does not match the description, you’ll need to pay twenty times Dr. Prescott’s home visit fee and medical costs. Sorry, Dr. Prescott is very busy recently; if convenient, it’s recommended you visit us at Sinclair Apothecary for an appointment.]

The reply came almost instantly: [Can accept the fees.]

Tiger was momentarily stunned.

It appeared that, as Sister Claire suspected, these patients were not short on money, just seeking convenience, and likely didn’t align with the description.

So be it.

Regardless of whether they’re bedridden, they couldn’t accuse them of lying based on speculation, as they belong to a medical hall and couldn’t afford any mishaps.

Finally, he replied: [Alright, please be mindful of the appointment time. Dr. Prescott will make the house call around 4 p.m. this Sunday.]

After sending the reply, he put down the phone and took a deep breath.

The brotherly bodyguard asked at this time, "Is there any other medicinal material I can help grind?"

Tiger turned to look at him, smiling, "Since Brother Lee came, my workload has lightened quite a bit. Honestly, you don’t need to be so diligent, just do your duty as a guard."

The bodyguard answered, "Bored, looking for something to do."

For some reason, even though patients wandered past him every day, as long as his hands gripped the grinding wheel, inhaling the medicinal scents, and hearing the crushing and grinding sounds of herbs, his heart found an unprecedented peace, as if isolated from chaos.

Though chosen from an elite team to stand guard here, following a small Chinese doctor felt much easier than following an employer.

At this moment, Tiger retrieved some Poria cocos pieces from the medicine cabinet for him and couldn’t help but say, "Since you’re looking for work, just grind slowly, don’t rush for efficiency."

He said this naturally because this brotherly bodyguard had a lot of strength, helping process almost all necessary medicinal materials in the hall in less than half a month.

However.

Unbeknownst to them, the old traditional Chinese medicine doctor overheard their conversation.

He carried a bag with "The Sweet Morsel" label, turning towards Claire Prescott’s clinic silently.

At this moment.

Claire Prescott lay resting in a chair, eyes closed.

The room was unlit, shrouding her in dimness.

The old traditional Chinese medicine doctor quietly watched her from outside for a while, his deep gaze filled with compassion.

Ultimately, he softened his footsteps, placing the dessert hidden behind his back on her desk.

He placed it carefully, unaware that his granddaughter had slowly opened her eyes, silently observing his every move.

As he raised his head, he was caught off guard by her gaze, startling and causing his hands to shake slightly.

With a mischievous expression, Claire teased, "Grandpa, what are you sneakily placing on my desk?"

The old doctor took a deep breath, looking at her youthful, fresh face, he spoke lowly, "You didn’t have enough lunch, so I bought you some snacks from outside."

Instantly, Claire’s eyes brightened.

She sat up straight and, right in front of her grandfather, took the snacks out of the bag.

Inside were not only snacks but also a cup of fruit smoothie.

These were things young people liked, and for an old man to personally visit a dessert shop and buy according to her preferences had a certain touch of sentimentality.

Since she started university, her grandpa hadn’t bought her anything, always giving her money instead to spend as she wished.

Now, suddenly receiving this act from her grandfather, her heart felt warm, and her smile was uncontrollable, sweetly saying, "Thank you, Grandpa."

Actually, she had filled her stomach on her way back and hadn’t gone hungry.

The old doctor asked, "What was the emergency this noon?"

Claire nonchalantly replied, "Just urgently called me to treat hair loss."

Upon hearing this.

The old doctor paused, his expression darkening immediately, and he cursed, "That’s just ridiculous."

Claire took a sip of her smoothie and said, "Yes, but I’ve dealt with the rest for now, so they won’t easily take advantage of me anymore."

Furthermore, she didn’t believe all the wealthy families in the capital had health issues, requiring her home visits.

"If you’re tired, go rest, I’ll take over the patients."

"No need, the rain’s heavy outside, they probably don’t want to go out, so I’ll use the time for a break."

The old doctor didn’t add anything further, "Then rest, if you’re hungry, let your grandma make dumplings."

"Okay, take care, Grandpa." Claire’s voice was light and airy.

Seeing what her grandpa had prepared for her alleviated much of her physical fatigue, revitalizing her somewhat.

These past two days, it mainly stemmed from the weariness of deception.

Fortunately, she realized it early, preventing future patients from exploiting her.

Suddenly, the old doctor’s steps halted at the door; he turned back, looking at the wilting flowers on the windowsill and finally reminded, "If the flowers in the vase are not thrown out, they’ll turn black."

Following his gaze, Claire responded calmly, "Okay, I’ll take care of it in a while."

After he left, she walked towards the windowsill.

The raindrops pattered densely against the window, forming streams that flowed along the frame; she watched the rainy scene through the panes.

Suddenly, she remembered that she hadn’t seen Keane Lowell for four days since returning on Monday.