When being scrutinized by Song Ci, Lin Qing rarely felt a bit at a loss.
Did she see it wrong? How come it seemed like she saw, uh, envy in Madam's eyes?
Madam also felt awkward, just staring at someone like that; she cleared her throat and said, "Mother, don't look at Doctor Lin's young age, this medical skill she started learning from a young age."
Song Ci: "I didn't say anything."
Madam: "..."
"Doctor Lin." Song Ci blurted out, then felt something was wrong, so she corrected herself: "Doctor Lin, come over and take my pulse. I'm not hoping to live to become an immortal witch, just hoping this broken old body can be a bit lighter, suffer a bit less, that would be a blessing."
Lin Qing smiled, finding Madam's conversation quite witty, she seemed like a rather easygoing person.
"If Madam trusts me, I'll do my utmost." She stepped forward and sat on a small stool. Sang'er, with a medicine box on her back, opened it and took out a medicinal pillow.
