A few days later, her Sister Lin came after all.
The traditional Chinese medicine department was quite leisurely. They didn't take emergency patients and had two days off every week.
Taking advantage of the weekend, Lin Zhilan took the children to visit the Li family.
When Wang Rou saw her, her eyes lit up. She wanted to get close but didn't quite dare to.
That was until Lin Zhilan took the initiative to sit next to her, gently holding her wrist, "Sister Wang, what do you usually do at home?"
Taking advantage of the moment Wang Rou was distracted, Lin Zhilan pressed three fingers against the pulse on her wrist.
In just a few breaths, her suspicions were confirmed.
Wang Rou was ill.
Her pulse was sluggish and rough, like a light knife scraping against bamboo—stagnant and not flowing smoothly. It was a choppy pulse.
This was commonly seen in melancholy syndrome, which Western medicine referred to as depression, and it seemed the illness had already persisted for a long time.
The last time Lin Zhilan saw Wang Rou, she felt something was off. Her gaze was somewhat unfocused, her lips were pale, the corners of her mouth drooped, lacking any relaxation, and a layer of gloomy melancholy always shrouded her brows.
"Nothing much, just spacing out," Wang Rou said with a blush, catching glimpses of Lin Zhilan's peach-blossom-like face from the corner of her eye.
She was truly beautiful.
Her face was pretty, her hair was pretty, her nose was pretty, her mouth was pretty...
The most beautiful of all were her eyes. With slightly deep eyelines, curled lashes, and slightly upturned outer corners, they clearly carried a hint of allure. Yet, if you looked closely, you would find them crystal clear, like a tranquil lake, possessing a calming power.
Lin Zhilan noticed that Wang Rou easily zoned out, but Chen Hehua and Li Xuan seemed accustomed to her being this way and didn't think much of it.
Lin Zhilan let the children go play. She held Wang Rou's hand, trying to make her own voice as calm and gentle as possible, "Linlin said you taught her how to draw. Did you study it before?"
At the mention of drawing, Wang Rou's eyes seemed to shine.
"I studied traditional Chinese painting for two years when I was a child, and later I was exposed to sketching and oil painting... After I got married, my father forbade me from touching them, saying it would harm Li Jiang." As she finished speaking, her eyes dimmed significantly.
"Is that so," Lin Zhilan pretended to look regretful, "I actually wanted to ask you to paint a portrait of me."
Wang Rou's heart fluttered wildly.
The oil painting teacher who taught her in the past was a foreigner; he said that every artist has their own muse.
Wang Rou thought that Lin Zhilan was her muse. Seeing her, she would be filled with infinite inspiration and imagination.
"I'm worried..." Wang Rou hesitated, "Will there be any bad influences?"
Lin Zhilan chuckled softly, "How could there be? Even the army has a propaganda department, and the blackboard posters they draw are quite good. Moral, intellectual, physical, aesthetic, and labor education—art is also very important."
"Blackboard posters?"
Lin Zhilan found it a bit strange. It was as if she had locked herself at home, trying her best to isolate herself from everything in the outside world.
However, Lin Zhilan didn't show it. She just smiled and said, "Our family compound also has a large blackboard poster, do you want to go take a look?"
Wang Rou bit her lip, "Um... I don't want to go."
"Alright, then we won't go. Shall we play something else?" Lin Zhilan immediately changed the subject.
Wang Rou felt a bit excited inside, but her body felt very tired. She tried desperately to squeeze out a smile, but it was extremely stiff.
The next second, Lin Zhilan linked arms with her, "I'll take you. Don't worry, we won't go out. Just in your courtyard."
Wang Rou felt a surge of strength transmit from the other woman's arm all the way into her own body.
Regaining her energy, she followed Lin Zhilan into the yard.
When Lin Zhilan said she would take her to play, she truly meant it.
They chose a clean empty spot in the yard, found a pile of yellow mud, turned on the tap to mix the mud until it was smooth and fine, and then...
They sculpted clay figurines.
The three children also gathered around at this time. They watched from the side for a while before joining in with their own hands.
Chen Hehua sighed, "Dr. Lin, how could you lead them to play with mud?"
Hearing his grandmother's words, Li Xuan's hand paused while molding the mud, hesitating whether he should put it down.
Lin Zhilan molded a lump of mud and handed it toward Chen Hehua, "Aunt Hehua, do you want to play together?"
Chen Hehua shook her head and walked away with quick steps.
Her daughter-in-law was weird, and Dr. Lin was also weird. No wonder they could get along so well.
Wang Rou sculpted a small clay figurine and even earnestly used a small twig to draw its facial features.
Lin Zhilan nudged Li Xuan with her elbow, "Xuanxuan, did your mom do a good job?"
Li Xuan looked up, just in time to meet his mother's gaze. He nervously lowered his head and softly said the word, "Good."
Wang Rou had always been very strict with her son. Facing Li Xuan's praise, she only slightly lowered her eyes and continued carving the clay figurine in her hands.
Linlin presented her masterpiece to her mother. Lin Zhilan looked at it from left to right and asked, "Baby, what did you make?"
"Mud~"
"..."
Wang Rou and Li Xuan laughed out loud at the same time.
Lin Zhilan's lips curled up, and she kissed her daughter on the cheek, rewarding her honesty.
Jiang Chengzhou also gave his artwork to his aunt.
To put it politely, it was a cylinder, but it was really hard to guess what exactly it was.
"Chengzhou, what did you make?"
"Dog poop."
Lin Zhilan's hand trembled a bit, and she asked again, "What did you say this is?"
"Dog poop," Jiang Chengzhou said with a serious face. "Auntie, dog poop looks exactly like this."
Lin Zhilan quickly stopped him and returned the dog poop to him.
Jiang Chengzhou felt a little wronged, "Auntie, do you not like it?"
Lin Zhilan forced a smile, "I like it, but your uncle doesn't have a gift yet. Why don't you take it back for now and give it to him when he comes back?"
"Alright," Jiang Chengzhou reluctantly agreed, "Then I'll make another one for you next time."
Lin Zhilan squeezed out a smile. She swore she would absolutely not touch mud again anytime soon, at least until the brat forgot about this.
Wang Rou gave her clay figurine to Lin Zhilan.
She had sculpted it beautifully and delicately; it actually seemed to capture a bit of Lin Zhilan's charm.
"Sister Wang, you made this so well!"
Two red clouds appeared on Wang Rou's pale face. She shook her head slightly, "The face isn't done too well."
"It's still not good enough?" Lin Zhilan held it carefully in her hands and gave her a playful glare, "I have to take this back and treasure it properly."
Lin Zhilan also gave her the little trinket she had made.
A little flower.
Wang Rou happily accepted it, saying she would also preserve it well.
Li Xuan caught a glimpse of his mother's happy appearance. He puffed out his cheeks and silently placed the mud figure of his mother that he had made onto the ground.
After playing for the whole morning, Lin Zhilan took the two children home.
Along the way, she also made plans with Wang Rou to come over and play with her again tomorrow.
Before going to bed that night, Wang Rou shared the morning's events with her husband, not leaving out the name Sister Lin in a single sentence.
It was rare for her to talk this much, and equally rare for her face to show so many expressions.
Li Jiang suppressed the excitement in his heart and cooperatively chimed in.
Wang Rou used to have a very cheerful personality. Ever since she married him, her temperament had become increasingly withdrawn, and she disliked going out.
The Wang Rou right now was the one in Li Jiang's memories.
So, what method did this Sister Lin his wife kept talking about use to make his wife like her so much?
A few days later, the traditional Chinese medicine department received its first patient.
