Zhuang Xiyue couldn’t be bothered with the lunatic, turning around to enter the changing room.
Mao Zhu glanced at Yun Ya, pointing at the dress on Yun Ya, she said to Mao Cuicui: "You’d definitely look better in this than she does."
The saleswoman chuckled, pretending not to see.
Mao Cuicui’s eyes flickered, "This is soone else’s dress, even if I like it, what can I do?"
Yun Ya watched with interest; there are always oddballs every year, but this year they seem particularly nurous. This woman is addicted to grabbing things.
"Since you like it, Aunt will buy it for you," Mao Zhu pointed at Yun Ya with an aggressive tone, "Take off that dress, I’ll buy it."
Yun Ya lowered her gaze and smiled, while Mao Zhu’s eyes widened, "What are you laughing at?"
"I’m laughing at which asylum you escaped from? Better go back and take your dicine."
"Little girl, young as you are, you have quite the foul mouth. I’ll teach you a lesson on behalf of your parents." With that, she rolled up her sleeves, ready to slap Yun Ya, who gently pinched her wrist mid-swing, causing the woman’s face to turn pale and suddenly lose strength.
"I have no parents, no need for your lesson," Yun Ya snorted softly, releasing her hand, "Before Aunt Zhuang cos out, you’d better get lost, or else..." Only to see the girl suddenly begin to play with a small knife, shaped like a scalpel, glinting with sharp cold light, dazzling to the eye.
In Mao Zhu’s terrified vision, she saw the other suddenly slash the knife towards her head, reflecting the knife tip in her eyes for a mont made her forget to react.
The tip grazed her cheek, a strand of hair floating gently to the ground.
Mao Zhu remained frozen in place, motionless.
"Get lost," the girl suddenly said, her eyes cold, her tone icy and penetrating.
Mao Zhu’s heart trembled; she threw out a harsh statent: "You’ll pay for this," and turned to leave.
Mao Cuicui glanced at Yun Ya, hurriedly rushed to follow: "Auntie, wait for ."
Finally sending them off, the saleswoman looked at the girl, standing gracefully, calm and elegant like a beautiful painting, the brief chill just now seed like an illusion... But she knew it wasn’t an illusion.
Her heart grew more cautious; unlike the unreasonable upstart before, these two were individuals the Boss specifically called to treat well. Moreover, she didn’t ntion, these two dresses indeed hold significant market value, but were gifts from the Boss, indicating clearly their unusual identity.
Initially finding them familiar, she hadn’t had a chance to think, but now, looking again at the girl, she suddenly took out her phone to search, and upon viewing the screen and the girl opposite, she covered her mouth...
Oh my, it’s Ji Yunya...
That lady must be Lady Yan; it suddenly felt sowhat unreal, like dreaming...
Zhuang Xiyue pushed open the door and ca out, seeing those two annoying figures gone, asked: "Did they leave?"
Yun Ya nodded with a smile: "Staying would’ve brought no pleasure."
Zhuang Xiyue’s eyes showed disdain, handing the dress to the saleswoman: "Wrap it up."
The saleswoman instantly took it respectfully, glancing at the woman before her, goodness, it’s Lady Yan in person, more beautiful and elegant than on TV, not showing her age at all.
Zhuang Xiyue raised an eyebrow: "What, any issues?"
The saleswoman quickly shook her head, feeling flattered, "Madam is far prettier than on TV, standing next to Miss Ji, looks like sisters."
Zhuang Xiyue enjoyed hearing comnts on her youth, smiled glancing at Yun Ya: "That’s a roundabout way of saying you’re old."
Yun Ya touched her face: "That’s because Aunt Zhuang is so young."
By then, almost two o’clock, the two took the dresses heading straight for the hospital, Yun Ya suggested Zhuang Xiyue rest first, but Zhuang Xiyue insisted on accompanying to the hospital, while she’s seeing patients, she’ll visit Yan Jin and accompany ng Shujing.
At three in the afternoon, Yun Ya walked into the clinic, sat down, set down her cup, and organized the notebook before her.
This was her first clinic session, at a state hospital in the country, an outpatient clinic reflects a doctor’s service attitude and diagnostic skill.
Wei Qing entered with a list, glanced at her: "Ready to start?"
Yun Ya drank so water to soothe her throat, "OK."
Wei Qing gestured ’good luck’ and turned to leave, seeing the hallway outside the door packed with people, standing, sitting, even sitting on the floor, crowding the entire corridor, the noise headache-inducing.
After the news ca out that Dr. Nyx was holding a clinic, people stayed up all night queuing for a spot, even scalpers raised prices sky-high, yet large crowds still desperately vied for it, illustrating the "celebrity effect."
People generally think, with such a renowned na, Nyx’s dical skills must be outstanding, following the crowd thinking they will be cured if seen by this doctor is universal; only at tis of illness will people spare no expense.
Thus the hospital had been lively these days, people camping everywhere just for an expert ticket.
Among them were many teenagers, faces showing the innocence of middle school students, gathered in small groups; they beca a striking scene at the hospital.
To say it evokes mixed feelings, many of these adolescents are Ji Yunya fans, coming painstakingly to register numbers just to see their idol, similar to fans queuing for concert tickets for star-chasing.
Ji Yunya was indeed an anomaly among public figures.
From the morning, the hospital was packed, evident of Dr. Nyx’s influence.
"Ren Juying," Wei Qing called the first na.
A young man imdiately jumped up from the crowd, dusting himself off, exchanged glances with his friends, walked in proudly under envious, jealous stares.
Wei Qing glanced at him, obvious star-chasers, looking at the patients out there, eight out of ten were coming for stars, these people usually wealthy and idle, acquiring tickets through various ans, obstructing those truly needing treatnt.
Wei Qing disliked this, believing hospitals sacred places, Nyx an excellent, responsible doctor, not a socialite, nor a celebrity.
The boy entered to see a girl in a white coat behind the desk, pen in hand, lowering gaze writing sothing on paper, her back straight as a swan, graceful; the outside sunlight spilling on her, in its brightness, like an angel’s pure radiance.
He was montarily transfixed.
The girl set down her pen, looked up at him, with a gentle smile at the corner of her mouth, like April flourishing blossoms across the mountains and tree branches, vibrant and charming.
"Hello, please sit."
The sound was heavenly, intoxicating.
He sat dumbly, hearing her inquire while writing: "What’s your na?"
"Ren... Ren Juying."
"Age."
"19."
"What’s bothering you?"
"Doctor... my... chest hurts."
"Chest pain?" Yun Ya took out a stethoscope, "Unbutton your collar."
He quickly unbuttoned, intending to remove his shirt, Yun Ya promptly stopped him: "That’s fine."
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