“I, Lu San, would like to send the patients who have finished their treatments to Elder Mu Zhongluo to be rechecked, the number is… eighty people!!”
A loud voice sounded, pulling all eyes to Leng San. The medical procession members from the Medical Saint Institute all thought that they misheard him. Even Mu Zhongluo and Gong Luyao thought that they were hearing things.
There was only the Eighty-Third, whose eyes narrowed for a moment, and Fu Chaihe, who had not previously known Leng San’s movements behind the canvas because he had been in charge of guarding the outside for a whole shichen, had his eyes widened, unable to help but smile.
“What… are you talking nonsense about?” Mu Zhongluo said in a dry voice.
Leng San did not say anything in response, only showing his hard-to-observe smile before raising his hand to signal the eighty patients, who had already passed the examination from Wang Chow, to walk in line to Mu Zhongluo.