Chapter 33: Bought a Car to Shelter from the Rain

The father and son quickly realized that the young doctor standing before them hadn't mentioned amputation seriously — he had done it deliberately to shift their focus and reduce the pain of the fracture repositioning.

In fact, it worked. The patient, furious at the doctor's earlier remark, was so overwhelmed with emotion that he barely noticed the pain at all.

By the time he came to his senses, his dislocated arm had already been set back into place.

"Doctor, you're even better than Dr. Lynn! I'm coming back to your clinic from now on. You're the best I've seen!"

After paying the medical fee, the patient and his son asked for John's name again, then left with grateful smiles and heartfelt thanks.

On the other side, Tracy's beautiful eyes were wide with surprise.

"So… you really are an orthopedic surgeon? When did you get your medical license?"

As a trained professional, Tracy knew just how advanced John's treatment had been. While it may have appeared to be a simple operation, the techniques he used could only be acquired through years of rigorous, hands-on training.

The core of what John had used — the Emotional Transfer Method — was a legitimate approach often employed in medical procedures. For instance, dentists might agree to pull a tooth on the count of three, only to do it at "one," distracting the patient from the moment of impact.

But orthopedic work was another beast entirely.

To reset a fracture, the doctor needed to touch the injured area to identify the correct alignment, then apply force with absolute precision. The patient, already in pain and distress, would typically resist instinctively, sometimes even thrashing violently.

Yet John had repaired the patient's arm in less than thirty seconds — from first contact to final repositioning — without any sedation or assistants. The patient hadn't been still, which meant John had to predict every movement and adjust in real time. That kind of skill wasn't just rare — it usually took decades of tireless training to master.

What stunned Tracy the most was that her younger brother was still in his early twenties. How could he possibly be this experienced?

John simply smiled and said, "Sis, I haven't actually gotten a certificate yet."

"What?! How is that possible?"

Tracy stared at him in disbelief, struggling to process the answer. After a long pause, she finally muttered, "Then what you did just now... that's illegal."

John was left speechless.

He'd expected at least a word of praise — maybe even a little admiration — not this. But then again, this was exactly the kind of response he should have expected from his sister.

Moments later, Tracy made a spontaneous decision to take John out for a walk. She arranged for another doctor to cover her shift and even agreed to pay them double. She hadn't seen her brother in years, and now that they were finally reunited, she wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.

She slipped out of her white coat to reveal a stylish outfit beneath — a sleeveless purple printed blouse tucked neatly into an almond-colored, high-waisted skirt. The outfit hugged her form elegantly, accentuating her graceful figure.

John blinked a few times and commented awkwardly, "Sis, um... could you walk a couple of steps for me?"

"Is there something wrong with the dress?"

Thinking he didn't like it, Tracy immediately took two steps forward and even gave a little twirl for him to see better.

"If you don't like it, I'll go change right now."

"No, no, it's great!" John waved his hands quickly, flustered. "It's perfect!"

Before long, the two of them stepped outside. Unfortunately, the sky had other plans.

Without warning, dark clouds rolled in, and it began to rain heavily.

They scrambled for shelter, trying to stay dry under the narrow overhang of a storefront.

Suddenly, a shrill voice called out through the downpour.

"Well, well — if it isn't Dr. Linch. Heard you've got your own clinic now. Look at you, moving up in the world!"

Tracy and John turned to see a mean-looking young woman hurrying through the rain, trailed by a much older man, likely in his fifties.

The man took off his coat and fussed over the woman, gently wiping the rain off her hair with an almost pathetic eagerness.

"You know her, Sis?" John asked, frowning. There was something instantly unpleasant about the woman — maybe it was the sharp, mocking tone of her voice.

"Yes," Tracy said, sighing. "Her name's Ada Brown. She's a nurse from New York Hospital."

Back when Tracy was working there, Ada had always addressed her with exaggerated respect — "Dr. Linch" this, "Dr. Linch" that. But the moment Tracy resigned, Ada's attitude flipped completely. No more fake smiles or polite greetings — only veiled sarcasm and cold shoulders.

There was more to it, though.

Chris White — the son of the hospital's department director — had once shown interest in Tracy. Everyone assumed that Tracy would rise in rank by getting close to him. Ada, as a junior nurse, had eagerly tried to curry favor.

But when Tracy rejected Chris, Ada lost interest in playing nice.

Now, seeing John and Tracy together, Ada sneered again. "Wow, Dr. Linch, you really know how to pick 'em. Turned your nose up at Chris, but ended up with this guy? That's rich."

"Enough already," Tracy snapped, her calm demeanor slipping. Even someone as mild as her had limits — and Ada had long since crossed them.

Ada shot John a dismissive glance and said, "Tell me I'm wrong. Even if you didn't want Chris, you could've found someone better. At least an older guy, like my man here. Look how sweet he is to me!"

The older man doubled down on the performance. "Oh honey, don't get wet! You'll catch a cold. Here, let me dry you off. I'm so worried about you, baby."

John, watching the scene, looked mildly nauseated.

Then he turned to Tracy and said, "Sis, wait here a minute. I'll be right back."

Before she could stop him, he sprinted into the rain.

"Is he crazy?" Ada mocked. "Doesn't even have the sense to stay out of the rain. Are you sure that's the boyfriend you want, Dr. Linch? You really should trade up!"

Tracy ignored her and turned away, refusing to dignify the comment with a response.

Ten minutes passed.

Then—

Boom!

A brand-new supercar screeched to a halt in front of them, water splashing up around its wheels. The vehicle was sleek, glossy, and bore a fresh temporary license tag.

The window rolled down, and John poked his head out with a wide grin.

"Sis! I couldn't find a store that sells umbrellas," he said casually. "But I did find an auto dealership. So... I bought a car instead. It should keep us dry, don't you think?"