One Hundred Ways to Knock Down the Doctor - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“I’m going to die in your bed sooner or later.”

“Lie down. Pants off.”

The doctor cutie across from me spoke with a deadpan expression, pulling on his gloves as he gave the cold command.

I let out a soft “Oh” and obediently shimmied my pants down to my knees.

He frowned at me and added, “Take one leg out completely.”

I silently pulled my pants further down toward the floor.

As he picked up a pair of forceps, he asked, “How many boyfriends have you had?”

I answered honestly, “Three.”

He glanced at me again and suddenly added, for no apparent reason, “Did you live together?”

I shook my head. “Never.”

Clack. He tossed the forceps back onto the tray. “Put your pants back on.”

Me: ???

I already have my pants off, and this is all I get?

Is he playing with me?

The doctor cutie returned to his desk and started scribbling out orders for tests.

“Irregular menstruation, no abnormal discharge. Get an ultrasound. Watch your diet, don’t stay up late, exercise more, and eat less junk food.”

He gave me one last look. “Especially takeout.”

I was genuinely curious how he knew I loved ordering takeout.

However, he didn’t give me time to react. He tossed the requisition forms at me and pressed the buzzer for the next patient.

“Pay on the second floor, queue at the ultrasound room in the basement. Come straight back to see me once the results are out; no need to register again. Next!”

That last part was my cue to leave. Got it.

I clutched my medical records and scrambled out of there.

My first encounter with Zhao Chunian began with an order to take off my pants and ended with an order to go pay.

Of course, that was only what I thought was our first meeting.

The test results were perfectly normal.

Looking at the “no abnormalities” printed on the ultrasound report and thinking about the long queue outside the doctor’s office, I decided to just leave. In the spirit of conservation, I didn’t want to waste resources when I wasn’t actually sick.

As it turned out, the extremely gentle nurse in the ultrasound room actually took time out of her busy schedule to rush out and escort me all the way to the doctor’s office door.

She even enthusiastically helped me hand in my records to join the queue.

And so, I found myself facing the doctor cutie who had made me take off my pants once again.

I also had to endure a five-minute lecture.

He went from my irregular sleep schedule to my lack of enthusiasm for meals, and then to my lack of exercise.

He was honestly worse than my mother.

Finally, he had me scan the QR code on his desk to follow the hospital’s official account for regular check-ups.

I was all smiles, thanking the doctor and promising to be good and fix my routine.

The moment I stepped out of the office, I treated everything he said like white noise.

As long as there’s no physical pathology, period cramps are basically an incurable terminal illness. Is listening to a monk’s chanting-I mean, a doctor’s nagging-regularly really going to cure it?

I’d be better off just putting the Great Compassion Mantra on loop at home.

After leaving the hospital gates, I thought about it and gave my mother a call to report the results.

A couple of years ago, Ms. Zhao would have painstakingly tried to persuade me to get out more-like attending those matchmaking fairs in the park to hand out my resume.

Lately, she’d been mentioning it less.

I wasn’t sure if she’d finally seen the light or if she was brewing some master plan behind my back.