Handsome Doctor

Judging from Doctor Carter's attitude towards Mallory, they must be familiar. Jane sat down across from him, her gaze sweeping to the chest tag on his white lab coat, "Attending physician, Tristan Carter." She didn't know how to speak, placing the backpack on her lap and gripping the straps tightly.

Upon seeing her lower her head, Tristan Carter laughed softly, his voice quite gentle, "Don't be nervous, Mallory. I'm aware of your situation. I've already paid for your mother's hospitalization fees..."

Surprised, Jane raised her head to look at him. A doctor paying for a patient's hospitalization fees, what kind of relationship was that? Moreover, since he had already paid for Mallory's expenses, why did he still insist on her coming? He should know she was in class...

Jane couldn't figure it out.

Tristan Carter was holding a water pen in his right hand, he twirled it around and laughed, "You said on the phone that you had money, which surprised me." His expression darkened as he spoke, "Have you visited your mother yet?"

Jane shook her head.

Tristan Carter seemed to have something to say, Jane quietly waited, however, he didn't say anything. Suddenly, he stood up, closed the folder on the table, and still smiled gently at Jane, "Let's go, we'll go together and give her a check-up."

Jane knew nothing about Mallory's mother's condition, knowing that too many words would cause loss, so she silently followed behind Tristan Carter.

They went up to the second ward on the eighth floor, it was near the stairs and not as quiet as the other wards.

The nurse on duty opened the door to the ward, Tristan Carter stepped in as usual, first checking the other patient in the ward.

He turned around and saw Jane still standing dumbly at the door, laughing, "Go see your mother." When he spoke, his gaze shifted to the bed behind him.

Jane had already seen a woman with no hair lying on the bed by the window in the ward--she was so thin, her body curled up, her bones all shriveled, if it weren't for the occasional movement of her eyes, Jane would have thought she was already dead...

Jane prided herself on being fearless, but when she saw this pitiful woman, one foot already in death's door, she couldn't take a step. Forcing herself to walk towards the bed, she instinctively avoided the woman's rigid stare.

The woman in bed, however, suddenly perked up, reached out and grabbed Jane's hand, clutching it tightly, her sunken eyes staring straight at Jane's face...

A mother's intuition is the most terrifying, she must have recognized that the Mallory before her is no longer the Mallory she used to be, right?

Jane suddenly thought of her own mother, who watched as her husband and daughter were killed, unable to do anything, just watching, hating... How is her mother now, what has William Blake done to her? If she stood in front of her mother, would she recognize her?

As Jane was thinking, her vision blurred with tears, dropping one by one. Mallory's hysterical mother on the bed suddenly calmed down at this moment, her emaciated hand gently patting her hand and spoke to Jane, "Mallory, dancer...dancer..."

Her voice was hoarse, harsh, but she kept repeating "dancer", was this her hope for Mallory?

The mother and daughter were arguing, when suddenly a hand patted Jane's shoulder. She turned around to see Tristan Carter standing behind her, his smile not quite reaching his eyes, "I'll check your aunt's body."

Jane stepped aside and watched Tristan Carter bend over, patiently and meticulously examining Mallory's mother. From Tristan Carter's conversation with the recording nurse, Jane learned that Mallory's mother had stomach cancer.

After the routine checkup, the nurse said to Mallory, "The patient needs to rest, you should go."

As Jane walked to the door, she looked back, the woman in the bed had turned over, her back to Jane, she couldn't see her face...

The ward door closed, the elevator just opened, Jane followed Tristan Carter in, only the two of them in the elevator.

Pressing the number "3", Tristan Carter looked at Jane from the elevator mirror, his cultured smile returning, "Mallory, I was surprised today, you came out of the ward so calm, not crying. Moreover, this is the first time in these years you've cried in front of your mother... However, your mother seemed very pleased just now, she probably doesn't want you to pretend to be strong."

In response to Tristan Carter's suspicions and speculations, Jane didn't know how to respond. Suddenly recalling something, she pulled out a stack of money from her bag and handed it to him: "Doctor Carter, here's ten thousand dollars..."

Tristan Carter was clearly taken aback, "Where did this come from?"

This seemed to be beyond the purview of a doctor's concerns. Jane looked blankly into Tristan Carter's eyes.

Tristan Carter must have also felt that it was abrupt and hurriedly averted his gaze. At this moment, the elevator bell rang; they had arrived at the third floor, and the elevator came to a stop.

Tristan Carter didn't take the money from Jane's hand. He stepped out of the elevator, and Jane wasn't sure whether to follow him or go down to the next floor and leave the hospital. Her gaze followed the back of the man.

Tristan Carter took two steps forward, turned back, and seeing her still standing in the elevator, he frowned slightly. His smile wasn't as bright: "Mallory, come with me. I have something to tell you."

Jane put the money back in her bag and obediently followed. Before understanding all the circumstances, she had no choice but to obey, and this Tristan Carter seemed not to be bad to Mallory...

Back in Tristan Carter's office, he poured her a cup of tea, then hesitantly began, "I know this may be a big shock to you, but she's your mother. You have a right to know about the progression of her disease..."

Jane gripped the paper cup, feeling slightly uneasy.

Tristan Carter sighed and said straightforwardly: "The cancer cells are spreading rapidly. We can't delay any longer. She needs immediate surgery, and the cost of surgery isn't something your little bit of money can handle..."

It was like adding insult to injury.

Jane walked out of Tristan Carter's office, squinted her eyes at the blinding sunlight outside the corridor window... Money was indeed a good thing. It might not be able to cure all diseases, but at least it could give people hope.

Mallory was out of hope, whether she was alive or not.

The tofu pudding was served quickly. The aroma was tantalizing, and the spicy taste made Jane's stomach even hungrier. She couldn't wait to pick up her spoon, mix the pudding with the added condiments, and took a bite. Instantly, she started coughing, tears involuntarily rolling down her face. The red chili oil splashed on her white t-shirt...

There weren't many seats under the plastic canopy, so everyone took the initiative to share tables. Sitting opposite Jane was a pair of student lovers. Seeing her in such a mess, the girl handed over a tissue and asked, "Are you okay?"

Hearing someone call her a student, it took Jane a while to react. She politely accepted the tissue and smiled at her: "I'm fine. Thank you." Even though she was smiling, her vision was blurred.

Jane crumpled the tissue and held it in her hand, lifted the lid of the small ceramic bowl filled with chili oil on the table, and added a bit more chili oil into her bowl —

It wasn't spicy, just hot, too hot. It irritated her eyes. She wasn't crying...

Still not spicy enough.

Like this, back and forth three times, after adding three more times, it finally felt enough. A bowl of white tofu had turned into a red color, with a layer of chili oil floating on top. Jane picked up the small bottle filled with vinegar and poured a lot in, mixed it around, and then began to eat.

The young couple opposite also ordered tofu, but the tofu in front of the boy was cooled sweet tofu, and the girl had a bowl of salty tofu topped with green onions, coriander, and minced pork. They stared at the red color in Jane's bowl, and the girl suddenly hummed to the boy: "Sweet tofu is so boring! A white bowl has no appetite at all! It has to be added with chili oil, green onion, coriander, shrimp skin, purple seaweed, and kelp silk to be delicious! Here, you try a bite of mine!" She said, spooning a bite towards the boy's mouth.

The boy ducked his head to avoid it, his tone full of disdain: "I don't eat salty tofu! I don't eat it!"

Jane looked at the two of them, a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth, her eyes full of envy. The girl, irritated, swallowed the spoonful of tofu, and seeing Jane laughing at them, she joked: "Little girl, do you have a boyfriend? If you ever get a boyfriend, the first standard is whether he eats salty tofu or not. If he only eats sweet ones, absolutely can't keep him!"

The title had been downgraded from "classmate" to "little girl." The seventeen-year-old girl had the advantage of being young, and just with that young face, she could win over others. Jane smiled and nodded along, scooped another spoonful of tofu to eat. Sour, numbing, and spicy, all kinds of flavors flooded her heart.

However, Jane couldn't help but think at this time that if this was the standard, she could never keep Jackie.

Because whenever they came here to eat tofu before, he never wanted to taste a bite from her bowl, always frowning in disdain, as if he wanted to pretend he didn't know her, arrogantly saying, "I only eat what's in my bowl!"

She was a girl who refused to admit defeat. Hearing him say that, she stubbornly dumped chili oil and vinegar into his bowl of sweet tofu, adding green onion and shrimp, and all sorts of things she could add. Then she giggled and said, "Well, it's still yours. Eat it quickly! You're picky, look at the survivalists in the wild, they have it so hard, you're lucky to have food to eat!"

At that time, Jackie, a ten-year-old boy, was dressed in camouflage and had a buzz cut. The military school training had added a bit of toughness to his features, and even his frowning face was incredibly handsome, attracting the side glances of the surrounding girls. But his face was sullen, and he pushed the bowl toward Jane, turning his head away, "If you want to eat two bowls, just say it. I knew one bowl wouldn't be enough for you. Hurry up, eat both bowls!"

Jane happily moved both bowls over, eating slowly spoon by spoon, sipping a bite and sucking a bite, she wished she could lick it. It irritated Jackie to keep glaring at her: "Little Jane! I fucking have to go back to training! If you don't love it, don't eat it. You're as slow as feeding fish!"

Jane wasn't bothered by his scolding, she unexpectedly leaned over, across a table and kissed Jackie's mouth. Thus, he could no longer act rampant, his wheat-colored face instantly turning purple.

After a moment of shock, Jackie's two big hands held Jane's shoulders, lifting her off him. Moreover, the expression on his handsome face seemed shy. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking around at the laughing passers-by, and hissed at Jane in a low voice: "Little Jane, if I don't kill you, I won't go back tonight..." His voice had changed, hoarse...

"You're such a unique one, crying over a bowl of tofu."

A deep voice suddenly interrupted Jane's distant memory. Startled, Jane lifted her head to see Jackie, dressed in a suit and leather shoes, standing outside the plastic canopy, watching her expressionlessly from a not-too-far, not-too-close distance.

His face was still the same, only sharper. The boy in camouflage at ten years old and the tall man in a black business suit now could not be reconciled at all.

Why was Jackie here?

Jane had just regained her thoughts, and there was still half a spoonful of tofu in her mouth. Because of surprise, it accidentally went down her windpipe, causing her to cough uncontrollably. She pulled out a tissue to cover her mouth, and through the misty steam, she looked in Jackie's direction.

It was surprising enough that Jackie Garcia had come to this secluded snack street. Would he even sit down to eat street food? That's completely inconsistent with his current status. Yet, Jackie seemed to be in the mood. He strode over to Jane's table, ignoring the strange looks from around him, and naturally said to the boss: "A bowl of tofu."

"Salty? Sweet?"

"Sweet." He answered without thinking.

The young couple had left at some point, and Jackie sat across from Jane. His deep, indifferent eyes casually swept over the tofu in front of her, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, and he mockingly said: "What a waste..."