"Is there something wrong?"
Zhang Xiaowei had just met her today, and now it was the dead of night. He felt it was odd, so he didn't hurry to open the door but asked instead.
"I heard from Sun Qian that you're a practitioner of traditional Chinese medicine, and I'd like to ask for your help with taking my pulse."
Quickly, Zhang Lu's answer came through the door.
Zhang Xiaowei furrowed his brows, troubled, "I've already gone to bed, can't it wait until tomorrow?"
"I'll be leaving tomorrow, hurry up and get dressed," Zhang Lu still did not give up, urging anxiously.
Zhang Xiaowei, left with no choice and out of consideration for Sun Qian's face, agreed reluctantly.
"Then wait a moment."
Zhang Xiaowei hadn't actually undressed, but still made some noise to pretend he had just gone to bed.
More than a minute later, Zhang Xiaowei finally opened the door.
Zhang Lu, without saying another word, barged in.
"Do you feel unwell?"
