Jiang Mei couldn't sit still for a minute; noticing on the white-cloth covered office desk lay some of his things—a stethoscope, fountain pens. Among them, a Hero brand pen caught her attention. Picking it up, she carefully twisted the cap, pulled out the nib, a golden nib which bore a fine, but clearly visible scratch, though it didn't hinder its ink flow. Her eyes widened in shock.
"Doctor Zhao—" a voice called from behind.
In a fluster, she quickly capped the pen and placed it back.
But he had already noticed her action.
He pulled out the chair beside her, sat down, and picked up the pen she had just put down with his fair and beautiful fingers, saying, "This thing doesn't write well anymore, I was just thinking of returning it to its original owner."
Without thinking, she blurted out with a flushed face, "The gifts given are not to be returned."
