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Novel Catalog
Chapter 31: Misunderstanding Wynter’s Poverty
“Stop joking,” Ryan said, giving her a glance, but clearly not taking her seriously. “As long as you know what you’re doing, it’s all good. Let me know if you need anything. Though I’m just a general manager, I can help you handle some things and people.”
Wynter blinked in surprise. She’d assumed Ryan was just an ordinary employee, judging by his appearance, but now she learned he held a much higher position.
“There’s one more thing,” Ryan added. “I need to ask a favor.”
Wynter raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead.”
Ryan looked around briefly, then lowered his voice. “Mr. Quinnell came to Southdale because his missing granddaughter was abducted and trafficked here. We had some clues, but we haven’t found anything new. You meet a lot of people as a doctor. Could you help us look for her?”
Wynter thought back to the request she had rejected before. She seemed fated to be tied to the seventh daughter of the Quinnell family after all.
“Okay.” Wynter didn’t press him for more details.
Ryan, clearly not wanting to overburden her, added, “I’ll walk you home. It’s dark out here.”
Wynter didn’t refuse, and they started walking. Initially, Ryan assumed she was heading to a more upscale area nearby—after all, someone like her surely lived in a nice place. But unexpectedly, she turned into a narrow alley. There were few people around, the streetlights flickering, and the ground riddled with potholes.
As they continued walking, Ryan’s frown deepened. Wynter stopped in front of a small, run-down traditional medicine clinic. The place was on the street, with a shabby exterior. A sign hanging by the door read: “Foot Massage: $30. Body Massage: $50. Herbs for Sale!”
Ryan blinked in surprise. This looked more like a cheap foot massage shop, and it didn’t seem fully licensed.
He turned to Wynter. “Wynter, what’s this?”
“It’s my grandma’s house,” Wynter said, taking her bag from him.
Ryan’s face softened, though he looked troubled. “This… If your family is struggling, I can get you a place. A real house.”
Wynter interrupted him quickly. “Ryan, you’re overthinking this. I’m not poor.”
Ryan stared at her, dumbfounded. She lived in a place like this, and yet claimed she wasn’t poor?
He took a deep breath. “Let me help you. You’re so young and already carrying so much of the burden for your family. No wonder you’re working as a doctor instead of going to school. You’re just trying to make more money for them, aren’t you?”
Wynter didn’t correct him. It would be too complicated to explain. She simply let him imagine whatever he wanted.
“Whatever,” she said, shrugging it off.
Ryan’s expression softened into something akin to protective concern, like he was seeing a younger sister who needed help. He narrowed his eyes and gave her some advice. “Let me tell you, the Quinnell family and that guy in the hospital—they’re both rich. You could be charging them more. Don’t just ask for a thousand. Even ten million wouldn’t be too much!”
Wynter nodded thoughtfully. His advice was sound. If she agreed to give long-term treatment, she would charge them at market value.
But Ryan wasn’t done yet. “I’ll figure something out for you!” he insisted, as though he was already planning to collect the medical fees for her.
Before she could protest, Ryan was already walking off, likely heading to make arrangements. Wynter didn’t stop him.
It was already half past ten, and Margaret had probably gone to bed. It wouldn’t be convenient to invite Ryan inside at this hour.
She reached for the door, but when she opened it, her heart sank. The place was a mess.
The medicine counter was in disarray, looking like it had been ransacked. Herbal medicines were scattered everywhere, medicine baskets had been crushed, buckets meant for foot soaking had been knocked over, and medical books were torn to shreds.
