As long as you, a tortoise's grandson, still pay me a salary, I will smile at you today.
Because I know myself, without you, I won't find such a generous fool again...
Indeed.
After going to a different world.
After leaving you.
I didn't really find another fool with your same precious qualities.
My dear boss, I miss you...
And your paycheck.
...
(3)
A rare rainy day.
A rare moment to reminisce about the past.
Feng Yin sat at the entrance of his little shop, watching the rain float like a hazy green mist, collecting his thoughts.
"It's just like the light rain in my previous world."
"Snowstorms, it's all the same."
"The floating flowers fly free like a dream, endless rain is as fine as sorrow..."
"Why am I suddenly so sentimental? This isn't good, it doesn't suit my cold-hearted killer persona."
Frowning, he mused like a poet, "Could it be that deep down, I am a melancholic poet, filled with sentiment that has seeped into my heart and marrow..."
"Ah, what a world...I can't even muster the interest to compose a poem...In this damn world, my dreams of impressing girls with poetry never woke up...What's the use of all the Tang poetry and Song lyrics I know..."
Right now, Feng Yin was genuinely melancholic.
He deeply felt that he was born at the wrong time.
An indignant voice came from inside, full of resentment but daring not to express loudly, "...Sir, we know your rules, but you've been daydreaming for an hour...Could you check our wounds? The pain...it's unbearable..."
Yes.
This is Feng Yin's shop.
His own little shop.
A...
Well, a clinic.
As a hitman, one requires more hidden identities than ordinary people.
The owner of this clinic is actually one of Feng Yin's disguised identities.
...
No matter what world, a hitman can never expose himself.
Feng Yin especially keeps himself hidden.
After a decade of striving and countless life and death experiences, he stopped keeping track of each mission he completed.
Why record these things?
Does it make sense?
Better to spend that time on something more meaningful, like protecting oneself to survive longer.
So, when he had a little money saved, he opened this clinic with his basic knowledge of traditional Chinese medicine, only having read some ancient medicinal texts and recalled a few memories.
Whether there's business or not doesn't matter.
The key is...he has a legal identity, and that's stronger than anything else.
Speaking of which, in this world, doctors are really in demand.
"Good Heart Clinic"
Feng Yin chose a nice name for the clinic, colloquial but not tacky.
However, a couplet hanging on one side gives a more "sincere" interpretation to the word "Good Heart" on the sign.
The upper couplet: Whether I open or close depends on my mood.
The lower couplet: Whether the treatment is good or bad depends on your luck.
The meaning is clear: You better not come, I'm not qualified!
From the day Feng Yin opened the clinic, he never thought he would have any patients.
Who says that opening a clinic means you have to treat people? Is saving lives the work of a hitman?
But he never expected...
Since the clinic opened, there has been a steady stream of business.
In this town, nicknamed "Rivers and Lakes Town" by the wandering folks, the lack of doctors can't be described as simply being alarming, but... there are none!
The appearance of "Good Heart Clinic" has undoubtedly filled a void in this town.
And this, he never expected.
This is awkward.
Now, it's only the second month since he opened the clinic.
"Why are you yelling? You mourning someone? I've been cooking the medicine for you! Why are you rushing?"
Feng Yin, whose melancholy was interrupted, became impatient and yelled back.
His tone was unfriendly, loud and harsh.
As a doctor, and a reluctant and impatient one, he's really something.
The two burly men in the clinic looked aggrieved and didn't dare to make a sound for a long time.
You were clearly just daydreaming, what the hell are you cooking?
You haven't even opened that packet of medicine!
However, when asking for help, not only do they not dare to speak, they don't even dare to be angry, all they can do is compromise.
One of them is covered in blood, his chest caved in, clearly having broken a few ribs.
"Bloody hell, next time I get hurt, you can dump me at the chaotic burial hill but don't bring me here!"
The injured man angrily muttered under his breath.
The guy who brought him rolled his eyes, "Bro, you've said that three times, but you still came back the last two times..."
"It's so unfair! Damn unfair!"
The man lying down was full of anger, "I, Xu the Third, am a well-known tough guy, got my ribs broken on a mission and, on top of that, I had to come to this ruthless clinic and get scolded! I feel like life isn't worth living, I wish..."
Just as he was speaking, Feng Yin came in, crossing his arms and tilting his head, "What do you wish?"
Xu the Third, who had been indignantly venting a moment ago, instantly put on a different face, "I truly wish I could set up a shrine for you, sir. Your excellent medical skills healed me multiple times... You're truly...a miracle doctor! Your medical skills are top-notch!"
He held his thumb up, his face basking in flattery, "A real compassionate doctor, heroic with a gentle heart, truly a role model..."