Jaycent Kingsley and Nathalie Quinlan both went inside.
The three people standing outside exchanged glances.
The butler was the first to speak: "Sir, shall we go in as well?"
Kenzie Nabours pressed his fingertips to his brow and sighed: "Very well!"
He turned his head to look at Yuni Davidson beside him and said to her: "Let’s go in and have a look as well."
"Okay." Yuni Davidson walked in first.
Kenzie Nabours and the Moore Family’s butler followed her into the room.
...
In the room, Nathalie Quinlan had just asked Jaycent Kingsley to draw back the curtains and open the window to let the outside light stream in. anwhile, she set down her single shoulder bag and took out a wrist cushion from inside.
Previously, the windows in the room were tightly shut, air was stagnant, and the light was dim, making it impossible to see the condition inside the room.
Only when the outside light stread in did Nathalie Quinlan manage to see the woman lying on the sickbed clearly.
The woman appeared to be in her forties, thin to the bone, illness weighing upon her, lying with eyes closed on the bed.
Her face was gaunt and sallow, her lips cracked and peeling, yet it did nothing to hide her graceful and dignified facial features.
She was an exceptionally beautiful woman.
The kind of beauty that even Nathalie Quinlan couldn’t help but take a second look at, not aggressively alluring, but with a very comfortable aura.
Probably no one would have expected such a beautiful, frail woman to be a nuclear weapons expert.
"Auntie?" After drawing back the curtains, Jaycent Kingsley walked over and gently woke the woman on the sickbed who had just managed to fall asleep: "Auntie, wake up, my friend is here to see you."
Marcella Davidson was a light sleeper; she had already been awakened by the noise in the room. At this mont, her willow leaf eyebrows furrowed slightly, and she slowly opened her eyes.
At the mont she opened her eyes, the area around her eardrum began to throb painfully again.
Despite the imnse pain in her body, Marcella Davidson forced herself to endure it and struggled to sit up: "Why didn’t you tell earlier..."
Jaycent Kingsley hadn’t reached out to assist her yet.
Kenzie Nabours, who had just entered, moved quickly and reached the bedside in no ti, skillfully assisting the just-awakened woman, softly blaming her: "Why do you keep pushing yourself? Didn’t I tell you to let know when you’re getting up, so I can help you?"
Marcella Davidson was now fully awake. Seeing her husband, she gave him a playful glare: "You’re making a fuss over nothing."
Yet her lips curled into a smile, happiness unguarded on her weary face.
Seeing this scene, Yuni Davidson felt a mix of bitterness and lancholy, forcing a smile and feigning lightness: "Marcella, Jaycent’s friend is here to see you. Please cooperate with Ms. Quinlan. Don’t feel pressured; we’re just taking a look."
Only then did Marcella Davidson notice the girl standing not far away. The girl seed very young, wearing a duckbill cap, dressed lightly, holding a pulse-taking cushion in her hand. She was montarily stunned, clearly a bit surprised, perhaps not expecting the doctor Jaycent Kingsley had brought to be so young...
However, she didn’t say anything, giving a friendly nod in Nathalie Quinlan’s direction, extending her wrist from beneath the covers, and lightly smiling: "Thank you."
Nathalie Quinlan didn’t waste words, told Jaycent Kingsley to ’step aside,’ and walked over, dragging a chair to the bedside. She placed the wrist cushion under Marcella Davidson’s wrist and began to take her pulse.
Inderian people know about Chinese dicine.
But like outside, most people are more familiar with Western dicine.
The stethoscope of Western dicine seems more reliable than the seemingly flimsy art of pulse diagnosis.
The old butler, seeing the girl only took a cushion and began taking the pulse, couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy, clearly not trusting Nathalie Quinlan’s abilities.
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