All Chapters of The Paralel World Doctor : Chapter 31
- Chapter 40
84 chapters
Morning Outside Unit 307
Peter had only managed to sit for five minutes on the plastic chair in Apartment 307 when a noisy commotion rose from the corridor below. His body still held the fatigue left from the clinic, and his temples felt heavy because the Qi he had used to stabilize Reyhan’s mother had not fully recovered, but his mind remained clear when he heard several people saying his name among the sounds of footsteps. The shabby apartment was usually noisy only with television sounds leaking from neighbors’ rooms, young couples arguing, and residents complaining about the water being cut off. That night, the sound rising from the stairs was different. There was hope, suspicion, people carrying money, and others who came only to see whether the rumors about Peter Davis were truly not nonsense. He opened the door. In the narrow corridor, several faces from Melody Paradise immediately turned toward him. Behind them were two neighbors from the complex
First Money, New Trouble
The line in front of Apartment 307 did not calm down immediately after the fat man bought the first pill. The sound of cash and payment notifications made the people behind him grow even more restless, as if every second could allow someone else to snatch the last pill away. Peter did not get carried away by the mood. He checked each person’s face, breath, lip color, and hand movements before opening his wooden box. For mild complaints, he gave one pill with brief instructions. For people who clearly needed a direct examination, he refused them even when money was raised in front of his face. “Why refuse me?” a man in a brown jacket complained while waving an envelope full of cash. “I’ll pay the full price.” “Because this pill is not a replacement for examination,” Peter said. “If your body collapses because you’re too lazy to get checked, your family will blame
The Shop Lights Suddenly Turned Friendly
The neon lights of Mr. Wong’s traditional medicine shop were still on when Peter Davis stopped in front of the glass display window. From outside, he could see old wooden shelves filled with bottles of dried roots, herbal packets, and small boxes labeled in red ink. Thirty-five million had just entered his account, but his body still carried the fatigue from the clinic and the apartment queue, so his steps felt heavy even though his goal was clear.The small bell above the door rang when he entered. The scent of ginseng, licorice root, and dried herbs greeted him, mixed with the dusty smell of shelves that had clung to the shop for years. Behind the counter, Mr. Wong was counting loose change from the drawer, and his face immediately soured when he saw Peter.“Well, look who came this late at night,” Mr. Wong said, closing the drawer with a slightly hard sound. “I thought you were too busy selling miracle pills to remember the way to this old shop.”The young clerk near the shelves he
Money That Shrinks Too Fast
Mr. Wong moved faster than his clerk. He took a key box from under the counter, opened the glass cabinet he usually only touched for wealthy customers, then took down one herbal package after another with exaggerated care. His voice, sharp earlier, dropped half a tone, soft and friendly, as if the shop had never been a stage for humiliating Peter. “For an old customer like you, of course I’ll bring out the best ingredients,” he said. “This red ginseng is not ordinary display stock. It’s old, the fibers are dense, and the aroma is clean. People who don’t understand only look at the shape, but you definitely understand quality.” The young clerk beside him helped with an awkward face. A few minutes earlier he had been holding back laughter. Now his hands were overly careful when placing the packages on the counter. Peter saw the change, but gave him no room for a fake apology. People who laughed when th
Full Ingredients, Empty Strength
Apartment 307 felt even narrower when Peter placed the herbal bags on his small table. Red ginseng, snow lotus, licorice root, stabilizing bark, and other supporting ingredients piled up until they almost covered the old coffee stains on the tabletop. After days of being mocked as a debtor and a strange pill seller, the sight should have felt like a small victory. In the corner of the table, his phone still held the transfer history from buyers, proof that the modern world could turn trust into numbers very quickly. But the apartment walls were still peeling, the thin mattress in the corner was still sagging, and the old ceiling fan still spun with an unstable sound. Money could change Mr. Wong’s face with one notification, but it could not yet change Peter’s exhausted body or the fragile meridians now feeling dry inside him. Peter washed his hands, dried them with a clean cloth, then began arranging the ingredients according to
A Guest from the Screen World
Peter did not open the door immediately. He stood behind it for a moment, listening to the breathing of the person outside and the small, restrained movement in the corridor. There was no crowd, no rough voice, only the faint scent of expensive perfume slipping through the gap in the door, far too refined for an apartment environment that usually smelled of instant noodles and cheap detergent. He opened the door halfway. A woman stood under the corridor light that flickered softly. Her clothes were neat, her bag was expensive, and the way she kept her shoulders straight showed the habit of someone often seen by the public. Yet her face was pale, her lips had lost color, and there was a thin layer of sweat at her temples that did not match the night air. She tried to smile politely, but the smile arrived half a second late, like a professional mask placed over pain. “Peter Davis?” she asked. “That’
A Diagnosis That Is Hard to Hear
Nina did not answer immediately. In the world of screens, she was used to controlling her expression when hearing bad news, but Peter’s words made her shoulders tense in a way she could not hide. She looked at the small table full of herbal ingredients, then back at the young man living in that cramped apartment. “Explain,” she finally said. “I came here because I wanted to hear a solution, not a riddle.” Peter nodded. He liked patients who could still ask for explanations despite fear, because fear that asked questions could still be guided. Fear that only shouted usually dragged patient and doctor into the same pit. That was better than people who only brought money, panic, and demands for miracles. “There is blockage and enlargement in an internal pathway of your body,” he said calmly. “Hospital language calls it a cyst and complications in the reproductive area. The hea
The Choice Before Breaking
Peter moved before Nina’s body truly fell. He caught her upper arm and supported her shoulder from the side, keeping his hands in safe areas. His movements were fast but not rough, and he immediately guided her back to the chair without making contact that could be misunderstood. Even in an urgent situation, he kept the distance he had spoken of earlier, because rules that only applied when things were calm were not rules worthy of trust. Nina sat with short breaths. Her face was pale, cold sweat appeared at her temples, and the hand that had been gripping her bag now pressed her lower abdomen with a tremble. For someone used to maintaining her image in front of cameras, the pain was too strong to hide. She still tried to sit gracefully, but her shoulders had already refused the orders of her face. “Let go,” she said weakly, more from embarrassment than anger. Peter had already let go once she sat stead
Consent in a Cramped Room
Nina sat back down on the chair near the small table, her face pale and her breathing still uneven. Her hand was still pressing against her lower abdomen, but her grip was no longer as tight as it had been moments ago. Pain made her shoulders sink, while the last of her pride kept her chin trying to stay lifted.Peter placed the needle box on the side of the table, then took a clean cloth and spread it over Nina’s wrist. He did not touch any other part of her before explaining what he was going to do. Even in a cramped room with peeling paint on the walls, boundaries had to be clearer than good intentions.“Your wrist,” he said. “I’ll check your pulse first. No other treatment before you agree.”Nina stared at the cloth for several seconds before placing her hand on it. Her fingers were cold, but her pulse moved too fast, as if something inside her body was trying to force its way out. Peter placed two fingers on her wrist and waited for the most honest rhythm to appear beneath the ch
The Point That Was Misunderstood
Peter did not approach the main point immediately. He first asked Nina to regulate her breathing, then placed a thin needle at the pulse point on her wrist. The needle entered quickly and cleanly, not deep, only enough to open the first pathway so Nina’s body would not reject the change too violently.“Breathe in slowly. Don’t chase the air,” Peter said. “Let it sink to your abdomen, then release it without forcing.”Nina followed stiffly. Her face was still pale, but her breathing rhythm began to settle after several attempts. She remained cautious, and Peter did not blame her. In a situation like this, a patient’s vigilance was not an obstacle. The real problem was panic, which made the body close itself off.Peter pressed a point near her shoulder with the cloth as a boundary, then explained before the next needle descended. “This point opens the breathing path and reduces the pressure that makes the pain rise to your waist. After that, I will move toward the center of the pain. Th