27 Dr. Howard Comes for a Check-up

The woman lying on the chair is Quinn, from Howard's high school days!

Unexpectedly, she ended up marrying Cyril.

Although Cyril was somewhat of a troublemaker in high school, his family was well-off, with both parents being politicians, and it was natural for him to pursue a career in politics after graduation.

Such credentials would be perfectly satisfactory to any girl's parents as a prospective son-in-law.

No wonder Cyril didn't want to let himself come in, so that was the situation.

"You probably know Quinn, so I won't need to introduce her. She has been running a high fever, refusing to eat, and keeps complaining of hunger!"

"Please have a look and see what the problem might be!"

Cyril said this and stood there, not intending to leave.

Howard walked around Quinn.

Quinn was as beautiful as he remembered, with big, watery eyes and under-eye bags that gave her face a youthful look.

Her long eyelashes trembled slightly, her gaze was unfocused, and her forehead was covered in sweat.

Howard could clearly feel that Quinn was that A-level female zombie, just in the midst of transformation.

There were no visible wounds on her neck, face, arms, or legs; could it be from eating food infected with the zombie virus?

That seemed unlikely!

According to Cyril, since they fled here, she began to have fevers, although she complained of hunger, she hadn't eaten anything.

It seemed certain there must be a wound somewhere.

Only the wound was more concealed and not easy to spot.

"Have you figured out what the illness is?"

Cyril asked, his eyes intently fixed on Howard, afraid that Howard might take advantage of his wife.

After all, such a beautiful and perfect woman, whom he hadn't even held hands with, if Howard took advantage, he would truly be heartbroken.

"I can only get a general idea from this examination; I need to listen to her heart rate, and check her thoracic and abdominal cavities!"

Howard said, picking up his stethoscope.

"Listen to the heart rate? You mean... No, this absolutely cannot be allowed!"

Cyril's face changed dramatically in an instant.

This was the sacred ground he had coveted for years, yet dared not step over the line.

Even though Quinn's alluring body was within reach during her illness, considering her normally conservative demeanor, Cyril hadn't dared to make a move, refraining from any overstepping behavior.

And now, Howard had just arrived and wanted to use a stethoscope to listen to her chest cavity?!

Was he supposed to reach inside?

How could he let another man touch that sacred place before himself?!

This was infuriating!

"Yes, a stethoscope, of course, it's meant for listening, what else do you think doctors carry this thing for?"

"And rest assured, I am a professional gynecologist, no matter how beautiful a woman or how perfect her body, I won't be moved in front of them."

Howard saw Cyril's concern and quickly explained.

In fact, he left unsaid the latter half: "Unless I can't help it!"

"Right, he's a doctor, and it's normal for doctors to examine patients. When we go to the hospital, aren't there female nurses, female doctors who examine us too?"

"When I went to the urology clinic for a circumcision, the nurses who changed my dressing were women. My wound was even open, and nobody accused me of being inappropriate, they were utterly professional!"

Isaiah chimed in to help.

"But..."

Cyril was still hesitant.

"After all, Quinn is your wife, not mine. You decide!"

"But from a professional perspective, I must advise you, if she continues not to eat or drink and keeps burning up, she might not make it through the night!"

Howard finished speaking and, without looking back, started to walk away.

"No, wait! You're the doctor, what you say goes!"

Cyril, feeling helpless, could only relent.

"Alright, but let me make it clear, if you trust me, then no matter how I treat her, you shouldn't interfere. If you question me one more time, I'm done dealing with it!"

Howard said coldly.

"Understood, understood, you do your job, I absolutely won't say another word!"

Cyril said, making a gesture as if stitching his mouth shut.

"Right, right, I won't talk either!"

Isaiah also hurriedly promised.

Only then did Howard nod satisfactorily, and then, holding the stethoscope, he gently placed it on Quinn's firm hemisphere.

It was very elastic, genuinely high quality!

Following the curvature of the hemisphere, the stethoscope slowly slid towards the center of the sphere, slipping into the low-cut dress.

The hand holding the stethoscope naturally rested on Quinn's impressive softness.

As the stethoscope moved inside, the soft mass continuously changed shape.

The feel was really nice.

Especially doing this in front of Cyril, reaching into Quinn's neckline and casually kneading and groping.

Howard felt a vindictive pleasure, as if avenging a past humiliation.

Cyril's face turned green, but he forcefully held back from saying anything.

The softness that he dared not even touch was like dough in Howard's hands, freely kneaded.

But Howard was the doctor, and Cyril, not knowing better, had no grounds to question.

After playing around for a while, Howard finally took off the stethoscope, but the other end of it remained at the center of the soft mass.

"Have you diagnosed what the illness is?"

Cyril asked with a dark expression.

Originally, Howard wanted to say nothing had been diagnosed and he should examine further below.

But seeing Cyril's expression, Howard knew he wouldn't agree to that.

He had to change tactics, nodding solemnly, he said, "From a professional standpoint, she has

Wansleigh Syndrome! It's a very rare condition!"

"Wansleigh Syndrome?!"

Cyril and Isaiah exchanged glances, both completely baffled.

"I've never heard of such a condition, I don't understand it at all."

"That's right, this disease is very rare in clinical settings, it's normal that you haven't heard of it!"

Howard explained seriously.

In reality, he was almost bursting with laughter inside.

What Wansleigh Syndrome?

After all, to save Quinn, he would have to take matters into his own hands.

Only by riding hard and relentlessly could the illness be quickly overcome.

"So... can you treat it?"

Seeing Howard speak so convincingly, Cyril now felt even more trust and showed greater respect.

"I can treat it, but there are two conditions!"

"Please tell me!"

"First, no one can be present during the treatment. This is an exclusive technique, and it's stipulated that outsiders cannot witness it, otherwise I won't treat her!"

"Second, treating her drains my energy, and I need compensation; I can't treat for free!"

Howard held up two fingers, making a show of his conditions.

"No problem, the convoy that will take me back to the safe zone is on the way. When it arrives, I'll take you and your friend with us. Once we're in the safe zone, you can have whatever you want!"

"As for the privacy... I hope you can understand, after all, she's my wife, and it's really not convenient for a man and a woman to be alone in a room."

"But we can do this!"

Cyril pulled over an opaque screen from the side, placing it between himself and Quinn.

"Look, I can't see you, and you can still treat her on the other side. We both don't lose out, how about that?!"

Looking at Cyril's eager eyes, Howard sighed helplessly: "Alright then!"

Good advice is wasted on the damned!

Initially, out of respect for their past as classmates, Howard wanted to spare Cyril some discomfort.

But since you're so eager to experience the atmosphere, don't blame me then!