Capturing the Young Doctor's Heart: Mr. Big Shot Won't Let Me Go-Chapter 149: Don’t Try to Trick Me with the Sympathy Ploy

Chapter 149: Chapter 149: Don’t Try to Trick Me with the Sympathy Ploy

The matter settled, without causing any ripples.

After all, today’s situation had been anticipated many years ago.

Back then, she was still young. He actually felt a tinge of reluctance when she went abroad, constantly reminding himself that she was a member of the Prescott Family.

But he couldn’t fight his own heart.

The closer it was to his return, the more he longed to see what she had grown up to be.

Yet, upon reuniting, it seemed as if the taboo that had been sealed for many years had collapsed, and his desire to be close to her grew increasingly uncontrollable, wanting to have all of her...

The sky was as clear as a wash, the clouds rolled and unfolded, and the light and shadow gradually dimmed as the sun set in the west, casting a faint afterglow on the Sinclair Apothecary sign.

Claire Prescott finished with her last patient, stretched lazily in her clinic room.

She took out her phone, stared at that gray avatar in silence for a while, then quickly typed a message and sent it: [Are you working overtime again tonight?]

Soon enough, she received a reply: [Yes. Once this month is over, you can have whatever compensation you want.]

Whatever compensation...

As if he had neglected or wronged her.

But indeed, in the past month, the number of times they had met wasn’t more than usual. In the past, he would show up at Sinclair Apothecary every so often, even to accompany her to work.

But.

If there are benefits, why not take them?

Claire chortled and replied: [Okay.]

Then.

Just as she was about to put her phone down, Assistant Ashworth called.

She paused, hesitated for a while, and then answered, "Assistant Ashworth, what’s the matter?"

"Miss, Young President Prescott is sick and currently at the city hospital."

Claire’s eyebrows tightened, "What’s wrong with him?"

"He was hospitalized with acute gastroenteritis, and it’s not looking good. Please come see him soon."

"Alright, I understand." Claire hung up the phone with a serious look on her face. After a moment of silence, she eventually headed to the city hospital.

Upon arrival, she went straight to Finn Prescott’s hospital room.

The hospital lights made it as bright as daylight, and the ward was eerily quiet with only him in it.

He lay on the hospital bed receiving an IV, the white sheet neatly covering him, eyes shut, lips slightly chapped, pale without a hint of presence.

Claire sat down on the companion chair beside the bed, silently took out his hand from the quilt, placed three fingers on his pulse, her brow furrowed inch by inch, watching him gravely.

She had told him to smoke less, drink less, and stay up late less, but he didn’t listen.

And he didn’t eat properly either; with an empty stomach, a grown man couldn’t even take care of himself, it was so worrisome.

She mentally berated him for quite a while.

Eventually, she let go.

Turning her head, she saw a doctor in a white coat pushing the door open and entering.

"Are you the patient’s family?"

Claire nodded, "I am."

The doctor, holding a medical record, got straight to the point and called her to the consultation room to discuss the patient’s current condition.

Claire asked, "If treated with Western medicine, how soon can he be discharged?"

Upon hearing her mention "Western medicine," the attending doctor paused, then replied, "The patient is moderately dehydrated and needs intravenous fluids to correct water and electrolyte imbalances. Without complications and barring any other sudden situations, he can be discharged in one to three days."

"Understood."

The doctor reminded, "During hospitalization, he can only consume liquid foods, nothing else."

Claire responded, "Okay."

After concluding here, Claire returned to Finn’s ward, silently keeping watch over the IV.

Suddenly remembering something, she sent a message to her grandfather and continued to sit silently by his side. Naturally, the process was boring.

Because she was hungry, she ordered some takeout and also bought some toiletries, planning to stay overnight.

Later on.

Finn was awoken by the aroma of the food.

He weakly opened his eyes, and a faint cyan silhouette came into focus in his view, gradually becoming clear.

The dining table was narrow and simple, yet it was packed full of enticing food.

Her delicate, small face glowed like white jade under the light. As she ate and chewed, her cheeks puffed slightly, lively yet retaining elegance.

Noticing he was awake, Claire’s gaze met his, her chopstick action paused, she swallowed the food in her mouth and broke the subtle atmosphere, "Awake?"

"What are you eating, it smells so good."

Claire read out the dish names from the menu for him with patience, her gentle and clear voice echoed in the quiet ward, just hearing the names made them sound appetizing.

But she ended with one more line, "No matter how good it smells, you can’t eat it, just smell it and be tempted."

Finn tugged at the corner of his mouth, letting out a light laugh, "Did Assistant Ashworth tell you?"

"If you don’t want to see me, I can leave."

As soon as those words dropped.

The warmth brought by her appearance was instantly overshadowed by a cloud, Finn frowned, suddenly letting out a groan.

Claire saw through him, "Stop using tricks to fool me."

Finn’s voice was weak, "It really hurts."

It didn’t seem to be a lie, but the tone was somewhat whiny,

Claire put down her chopsticks and walked over to him, asking, "Where does it hurt?"

"Cold stomach."

Claire was a bit at a loss. After pondering for a moment, she said, "Wait for a bit, I’ll go get a hot water bottle for you."

Watching her departing figure.

Finn slowly withdrew his gaze, a faint smile lurking in his eyes, and shortly after, she really did return with a hot water bottle.

"Where did you get it?"

"Convenience store purchase," Claire handed him the hot water bottle, "Apply it."

It was already filled with hot water, warm in hand, Finn immediately placed it on his stomach.

Seeing his lips were dry, Claire turned to pour him some water, considerately raised the hospital bed a bit to make it easier for him to drink.

Finn sipped water one mouthful at a time, watching her return to the dining table, finishing all the remaining food.

He hadn’t expected that when he was sick, she would appear here. It seemed that only in such moments, he wouldn’t see her distant and detached demeanor.

He knew very well, no matter how much they argued or quarreled, she never truly blamed him; it was just that the emotional knot was difficult to unravel, which everyone in the family had observed.

As she finished and cleaned up the table, Finn asked with a bitter smile, "If it weren’t for me, would you be a little happier?"

Claire’s actions suddenly stalled, her voice caught in her throat, feeling her throat swell, it was uncomfortable.

She lifted her gaze to meet those deep, yet weak, dark eyes, "Whether I’m happy or not has nothing to do with you."

With that, she turned and left the ward with the garbage.

She didn’t return immediately but stood outside alone for a while.

It seemed that those heavy words had truly hit her heart, making her too afraid to face him again.

She never understood why, despite her treating him so unkindly, he still treated her so well, always tolerating her temper. Didn’t he find his half-sister despite the same father and different mother annoying at all?