The Sorcerer's Handbook-Chapter 21: Ashes Workplace Lesson

Ashe looked at the crow-masked healer in the treatment room and asked, "If you want more people to come for treatment, shouldn't you put some effort into your appearance? You should already be grateful if patients don't think you're here to rob them, and yet you still expect them to seek you out? Is this outfit some meaningless tradition?"

The healer responded calmly, "It's a tradition... and it has a purpose. Think about it. If, by chance, something went wrong during treatment, and you woke up missing a few parts... seeing me like this, would you dare attack me?"

"Not really."

"Exactly."

They stared at each other for a moment before Ashe's expression cleared in realization. "So the terrifying clothes and the eerie treatment room... They're all just props to improve doctor-patient relations. Wait a second. Does that mean the chance of something going wrong with your treatment is pretty high?"

The healer gave a vague reply, "Not very high... just a little possible."

It didn't even dare meet Ashe's eyes. To Ashe, that "little" seemed as vast as a galaxy.

"With an attitude like that, you probably don't get many patients outside, do you?" Ashe said. "Maybe people even blame you for not treating them properly. That's why you hide in a prison, treating inmates who can't complain, just to gain experience."

The healer hung her head in shame. Ashe had hit the nail on the head. She muttered defensively, "I really did heal them, but they still complain. Some problems aren't even my fault. They caused them themselves... I'm only providing basic care, yet they demand so much more..."

It was like Ashe had unlocked an emotional dam. The healer vented to him as if he were a trash can. To Ashe, the complaints seemed self-inflicted. In a world where most healers collected small fees, she asked for nothing and even offered house calls. Despite her efforts, patients still found reasons to complain. Unable to survive in the city, she came to the prison to gain experience.

After listening, Ashe thought for a moment and asked, "Do you know what your problem is?"

"I know. It's that my skills aren't perfect—"

Ashe interrupted, "No! It's that you don't speak firmly!"

The healer looked up, her eyes behind the crow mask full of confusion. "Huh?"

Ashe explained, "You talk so weakly and uncertainly that if a medical accident happens, patients will definitely give you trouble. Even if you don't charge, you'll be eaten alive. Here's what you do. When you say you might not be able to cure someone, say it with a loud voice, stand straight, and speak with confidence and pride.

"And that's just the first step. The second step is to find the patient's flaws. If they're attractive, tell them they're too indulgent. If they're unattractive, say they have no sex life. If they're thin, say they're undernourished. If they're fat, say they overeat. There's always something to critique. Nobody's perfect. You'll always find a way to put them in their place.

"As long as you follow these two steps, you can assert your authority, put the patient in their place, and create an atmosphere where they feel they should be grateful you're treating them. Even if something goes wrong, the patient won't blame you. They might even defend you."

"Does that really work?" the healer asked.

"It really does!" Ashe nodded emphatically. "I've used it myself for years!"

Ashe was familiar with this kind of workplace PUA[1]. Fresh graduates were almost defenseless against this tactic.

"So, do you know what to do now?"

"What should I do?"

"From now on, after every procedure, always tell the patient. I did my best!"

"I did my best."

"Louder! I can't hear you!"

The healer clenched her fists and said firmly, "I did my best!"

Ashe nodded in satisfaction. "Figure out the rest on your own. I'm off to eat now..."

The healer remained deep in thought. Just as Ashe was about to put on his shoes, she stopped him. "You really don't want cosmetic surgery? Look in the mirror. Don't you feel showing yourself in public like this is disrespectful to others?"

Ashe stiffened, a spark of delight in his eyes as he watched the lesson sink in. Well, well. Looks like the student is already applying the newly learned skills to the teacher! If she joined Aurora, she'd at least be a team leader-level powerhouse.

"No offense, but compared to your crow face, I think I'm still quite handsome. Maybe next time... if I feel ugly, I'll come to you for surgery," Ashe replied dismissively.

The healer was frustrated. "You're the ugly one, not me!"

Just as she was about to remove her mask, footsteps echoed from upstairs, and she suddenly remembered something. "Oh, right, Ashe, take this." 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

Ashe was handed a badge marked with the number 222.

"What's this?"

"My ID tag," the healer said. "Keep it on you at all times, even while sleeping. That way, everyone knows you're mine."

Ashe blinked. "So... what species are you exactly? Male or female? I'm pretty easygoing, but if your... attributes are beyond my limits, I might have to charge extra..."

"You're not getting cosmetic surgery. If you go out as you are, your face will be scary enough for people to challenge you multiple times. With this badge, if you ever get beaten up, I get priority to treat you. And if your face ends up ruined, I can fix it too."

She nudged him toward the door. "Now go eat. The dining hall's about to close."

Ashe thought for a moment, pocketed the badge, and asked, "By the way, next time I come, can you cut me an apple?"

The healer responded, "Sure."

Mission accomplished.

This was Ashe's secret to workplace networking. Even when he appeared idle, he was quietly securing favors, even the smallest ones. It was a shortcut to building rapport. The feeling of being needed was a high-level emotional reward, and Ashe had used this tactic to top the Top Ten Employees poll, securing an extra six months' bonus.

"If you're free, we can eat together sometime. I'll head off now," Ashe said. "222, see you next time... oh, I almost forgot, thanks."

"If you want to thank me, just let me do cosmetic surgery for you—"

"Next time. Next time for sure!"

After Ashe left, the healer returned to organizing the treatment room tools.

Suddenly, another door opened. A tall healer entered and glared at her. "Why are you still here?"

The healer glanced at the tall healer's ID badge. 176.

That's right. Other than death row prisoners, even the healers didn't know each other's identities. Outside their dorms, every healer had to wear a crow mask in public, and ID badges were the only way to tell anyone apart.

"I had a patient just wake up and got delayed a bit. I gave him my badge and scheduled his future treatments," the short healer explained.

The tall healer's tone turned serious. "You didn't talk to him, did you? You know the rules. Communicating with prisoners is strictly forbidden. Our identities must remain confidential. If word got out, the Human Rights Association would tear the parliament apart..."

The short healer stuck out her tongue. "I know."

The tall healer's voice sharpened. "Then go back to your room. Don't forget the eleven-inch Blood Arts paper is due by the weekend. Don't think a little talent gives you the right to slack off. Without the team leader's permission, you have no business being here."

In the past, the healer would have been anxious and reflective at such criticism. But after talking with Ashe, a new thought occurred. Is the senior deliberately pointing out my flaws to assert authority and keep me in line? Yes, I got in here thanks to the team leader's favor, and that's something I can't change, but it has nothing to do with my skills. Why does he always use it against me?

Listening to the tall healer's pointless criticism, the healer found herself missing Ashe's pleasant, encouraging voice. Come to think of it, Ashe's ability to recover seemed far stronger than that of most close-combat sorcerers. The sensation of his body during treatment had been... quite decent.

With that in mind, she secretly hoped Ashe would get beaten nearly to death again soon.

1. I've intentionally included the term PUA, which is commonly used in Chinese. PUA refers to a manipulative tactic used to influence or control others, often relying on psychological tricks to make someone emotionally dependent. Watch out for people who use this! ☜