Capturing the Young Doctor's Heart: Mr. Big Shot Won't Let Me Go-Chapter 129: Who Sawed Off the Threshold?

Claire Prescott, with a flushed face, looked at him shyly, and suddenly leaned over to bite his collar.

The pain was barely noticeable.

The young girl didn’t actually bite down; she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Her warm breath sprayed on his neck, making his heart itch. He simply hugged her slender waist and sat down with her in his arms.

Their eyes slowly met, and those moist lips fell into his sight, making it irresistible for him to kiss her.

Claire immediately dodged, her warm cheek pressed against his, cooling him down.

Keane Lowell smiled and allowed her actions.

...

Afternoon.

Returning to Sinclair Apothecary.

Claire Prescott habitually lifted her leg over the threshold, and a few seconds later, suddenly realized something was off.

She turned around, only noticing that the threshold had disappeared.

She was momentarily stunned, meeting Tiger’s gaze at the counter.

Tiger asked with concern, "Sister Claire, how was your rest? Are you feeling better?"

Claire walked over to him, puzzled, "Who sawed off the threshold?"

Tiger gave her a look, glancing precisely at the bodyguard working nearby.

Claire asked again, "When was it sawed off?"

"Just after nightfall yesterday. He said patients were generally weak, and this threshold might cause them to trip, so for their convenience, it had to be sawed off; no one could stop him."

The bodyguard’s movements of grinding medicine slowed a bit, listening silently, not daring to look at Claire Prescott.

Claire knew this was definitely not the bodyguard’s own idea; it must have been Keane’s instruction, though she hadn’t expected him to act so quickly.

Just last night after nightfall, the threshold at Sinclair Apothecary had been sawed off.

At that time, he seemed to be in a bad mood...

Sure enough, Young Master Lowell couldn’t tolerate the slightest imperfection.

Thinking about how angry he was last night, she still felt a lingering fear.

She decided to turn a blind eye, comforting herself, "It’s fine; I also thought the threshold at the clinic was inconvenient for patients. I was planning to find someone to saw it off today, didn’t expect Brother Lee to be a step ahead. Thank you, Brother Lee, for the help."

The bodyguard sighed with relief, "You’re welcome."

As she said this, Tiger didn’t reveal what he knew.

He had witnessed the scene yesterday afternoon. When Brother Lee started, he didn’t actually stop him, and even explained to Elder Sinclair when he came out.

Even though it wasn’t spoken aloud, it seemed everyone could see and guess who was the one behind the scenes; they just kept it unspoken.

Claire Prescott didn’t say much else, only glancing a few more times at the doorway when returning to the consulting room.

After the threshold was sawed off, the marks on the door frame had been smoothed, and a layer of paint in the same color was thoughtfully applied, making it look less abrupt. However, when the therapist came in, he habitually lifted his foot, and the scene looked a bit comical.

But.

When she came in earlier, she probably did the same thing.

...

After two busy days, Sunday’s day off arrived in the blink of an eye.

Claire Prescott slept in for a bit and spent the morning alone in her room copying some books.

In the afternoon, she lay resting on a single sofa in the living room, able to hear her grandmother bustling in the kitchen but unaware of what she was making.

Little Seven, bored, jumped onto her shoulder, pestering her to play.

She was lazy.

No matter how much it nudged her neck, she ignored it.

Eventually annoyed by the noise, Claire reached into the miscellaneous bag, pulled out a wig, and accurately plopped it onto its head.

Silence ensued instantly.

Little Seven shook its neck, eyes filled with a depressed look, and suddenly began hopping on her shoulder, trying to shake the wig off.

But with its limited abilities, it couldn’t manage to do so.

Unable to watch anymore, Claire picked it up from her shoulder and placed it on the table, then removed the wig from its head, "Behave yourself, don’t disturb my rest."

The parrot looked directly at her and scolded, "Bad egg, bad egg" twice.

Claire smirked lightly, no longer teasing it, and leaned back on the sofa to enjoy the current quiet.

However. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

Just as she was about to leave, her grandmother came out of the kitchen carrying a bowl of peach gum.

At this moment, her cousin Stella Sinclair happened to come in and upon seeing this scene, couldn’t help but sourly remark, "Grandma still favors cousin, after all."

Claire said flatly, "I have a deep bond with Septima; who else would she favor if not me?"

Septima Sterling saw the two of them bickering and quickly intervened, telling Stella, "There’s more in the pot, if you want some, I can serve you a bowl."

Stella glanced sullenly at what Claire was drinking and sulked, "No need, Grandma. I’ll just grab a reference book upstairs and leave."

Within two minutes, she was back downstairs.

Seeing Claire leisurely drinking peach gum, she couldn’t help but envy her good fortune once again.

Not only was she good-looking, but her family was wealthy, she owned a villa, and had an unattainable boyfriend. Even her grandparents doted on her, giving her all the good things.

It seemed all good luck had fallen upon her.

She withdrew her gaze without a word of greeting, leaving alone.

Claire didn’t pay her any mind; after finishing her soup, she informed her grandmother and headed out with her medical bag.

Took a ride.

Arrived at the destination at exactly four o’clock.

Claire Prescott glanced around the spacious front yard and approached the guard, explaining her purpose of visit.

At that moment, a middle-aged man emerged from the guardhouse, courteously saying, "Dr. Prescott, I am the housekeeper here. Our young lady sent me to wait for you here; she’s waiting in the main building, let me take you there."

"Alright."

The distance from the gate to the house was still quite far.

Walking along the tree-lined avenue, no buildings were in sight, evoking a sense of deep-seated, distinguished mystery, as in this pricey area of Kystral, having such a wide path at home, with trees planted out front, definitively indicated an extraordinary household.

At this moment.

Ethan Lancaster was standing in a third-floor room, one hand in his pocket, quietly looking out the window.

Soon, he noticed the housekeeper leading the young girl into his field of view.

The young girl’s summer attire was predominantly loose, with light-colored clothes. She wore a new-style white top paired with light blue, flowy wide-legged pants, appearing weightless, exuding a gentle fairy-like aura.

After they entered the house, she was no longer in his sight.

He lightly closed his eyes, turned around.

In the vast lounge.

Everywhere you looked, maids adorned in identical aprons busied themselves. Alongside the wall rested tables stacked neatly with rows of wine, and a variety of exquisite delicacies.

They were engrossed in inspecting decorations and setting up a special banquet.

Upon seeing guests arrive, they promptly suspended their tasks, bowed towards her and the person sitting on the sofa, and then orderly moved elsewhere.

At this moment.

Claire Prescott met the gaze of the person sitting on the sofa.