The taste of rust filled his mouth. Lu Lingche turned on the tap, cupped some water to rinse his mouth, and then stood up straight again, staring blankly at Qiao Yin, "Thank you."
Qiao Yin removed the needle unhurriedly, "Mm."
With others, she would politely say, "No thanks necessary, it's my duty," but facing Lu Lingche, she truly deserved his thanks.
"Didn't you say you wouldn't save me if I were sick?"
"It's probably occupational hazard kicking in."
"But you haven't been a doctor for long, you probably haven't developed an occupational disease yet."
"So? What are you trying to say?"
"So, is it possible that you still care about me a bit?"
Qiao Yin looked up at him briefly, "No." Then she lowered her lashes and focused on removing the needles until she had taken them all out and neatly packed them back into the medical box.
Then, she picked up the medical box and walked towards the door.
