My Secret Husband Is My Cold Boss novel Chapter 95

"Your mother has terrible judgment. Did you waste all these years of studying for nothing?"

"Remember, trying to please people gets you nowhere. You have to rely on your own competence."

"Once you stand firmly on your own two feet, no one will dare give you an attitude."

"Not even your own mother."

"Focus on your work and ignore her."

Wendy looked up, a smile breaking across her face. "Sir, you're honestly... quite clumsy at comforting people."

Dr. Franklin took a closer look at her.

Only then did he realize she wasn't sad at all...

This brat just hadn't felt like talking!

Realizing he had wasted perfectly good comforting words and made a fool of himself, Dr. Franklin felt his pride take a hit.

He scoffed indignantly, "I raised two boys. Why would I know how to comfort anyone!"

Arguing in the hallway was bad for their professional image.

Wendy quickly reined in her teasing. "Yes, of course, but thank you anyway."

Dr. Franklin's gaze rested on Wendy's face.

He had watched her journey from a timid resident all the way to where she was today.

He had witnessed her transform from a quiet, obedient student into this fiercely independent, confident woman.

"Save the sappy stuff!"

-

The Teaching Clinic was a specialized setup where junior doctors consulted with patients while a senior attending observed and provided guidance.

As one of the first pioneer hospitals in the country to launch this program, Capital Medical Center had designated a specific consultation room just for this purpose.

Wendy sat at the desk.

Dr. Franklin stood behind her with a notepad, observing quietly.

He would only step in if Wendy made an improper decision or misjudged a diagnosis.

Appointments for the Teaching Clinic were clearly marked during registration, and many patients didn't mind the setup at all.

Compared to booking an expert consultation, which usually meant being rushed out in a few minutes, the Teaching Clinic allowed for much more thorough explanations since the attending was also fulfilling a teaching role.

They got the same attending oversight but at a significantly cheaper copay, with much more detailed care. Most patients loved it.

Of course, there were exceptions.

The boy was clearly terrified of Wendy's white coat.

He took one look at her and instantly buried his face into his father's chest, his lip quivering.

"Don't be scared." Wendy pulled out a tissue and offered it to him softly. "There are no needles or medicine here."

"Can you stand up straight so I can see how tall you are?"

The boy refused to move.

Wendy tried another approach. "Or maybe you can tell me, have you been feeling unwell lately?"

Perhaps it was one question too many.

The moment Wendy finished her sentence, the boy burst into loud, wailing sobs.

He thrashed around, trying to run out of the room.

Seeing his kid crying, the father immediately lost his temper. He pointed a finger at Wendy and roared, "What kind of hospital is this!"

"It says right there on his file that he's six! Why do you keep asking!"

"And 'feeling unwell'? He has a hole in his heart! Of course he's not feeling well! Why else would we be at the hospital!"

"Having an intern see patients—is this place even a real hospital!"