Chapter 712: Painter with a story (4)

Shui Anluo slipped her lip, no matter how I felt there was something in it.
"Doctor Water."
Shui Anluo heard someone say something, looked up, and a nurse was helping a person with blood on his arm to enter.
"There is not enough manpower for the surgery. You can help this gentleman," said the nurse, helping the man in and then going out.
"Hey, I said--"
Shui Anluo took Qiao Yaruan, "Forget it."
Shui Anluo said, looking down at the patient who was sent in. The man was wearing a brown jacket with long hair, under his shoulders, a non-mainstream feeling, but he was not too young, with a beard and eyes The deep eyes could not completely hide the richness of his life experience.
In his right hand, he was carrying a painting bag, the painting bag was very worn-out, but from now on, he has not put down.
Wanting to come is something that is important to him.
Shui Anluo watched Qiao Yaruan go out with anger to help her get the wound treatment, and whispered, "Don't be angry, just study more. Where are the interns not so bullied?"
The man looked up at Shui Anluo, the corner of his mouth slightly raised.
Shui Anluo looked down at the wound on his arm, as if he had been hit by something and scratched by a dagger.
Shui Anluo frowned and looked, "Sir, you can put things down first, it may be more comfortable."
"No, just a little bandage." The man said, his voice low.
Shui Anluo looked up slightly, looking at this man with a beard and a beard, his voice was very good.
Shui Anluo did not embarrass him, first he washed the wound with hydrogen peroxide and then started to take medicine.
The man didn't frown from beginning to end, as if the wound didn't feel much to him.
After Shui Anluo wrapped him in gauze, Qiao Yaruan had prescribed anti-inflammatory drugs for her, and handed it to Shui Anluo when she looked up.
Shui Anluo chuckled and said that she had a whimper every time, but the person who helped her every time was her.
It is a pity that the man did not receive the prescription. After a simple thank you, he left with his own painting bag.
"Well, what a non-mainstream uncle." Qiao Yaruan pressed against Shui Anluo's shoulder and said.
Shui Anluo put down the tools in his hand, and slightly touched his chin: "I feel he has a story, that painting bag, many years?"
"Looking at the style, it's been 30 years and 20 years, and it's still used by people." Qiao Yaruan said with his lips.
Shui Anluo bowed his head to pack things. In this world, there are too many people with stories.
Qiao Yaruan sat on the table and pressed the shoulders of Shui Anluo, who packed his things, "Do you know how he was injured?"
"How do I know?" Shui Anluo finished packing, "Come with me to see the fat man in a while."
"Protect his painting bag, did you just notice that the painting bag has been torn, so his painting bag must be given by someone who is important to him."
"Sister, it's really a curse that you don't want to be an Interpol." Shui Anluo laughed, shaken off her hand and went out to wash her hands.
"Hey, do you have to believe her sister's observation?" Qiao Yaruan yelled.
Fortunately, the toilet was on the side of her office, so she could hear it clearly.
"I believe, but what does it have to do with us?" Shui Anluo said as he washed his hands. "Instead of caring how he was injured, I want to see the fat man's illness more."