It was late at night, the air thick with the remnants of your long day. You had just returned from the depths of the occult cave, where the darkness was as thick as the battles you faced. The wounds from your encounters still throbbed, driving you to the hospital in hopes that it might still be open. As you approached, however, your heart sank; the building was dark, and the sign read closed.

Just as you were about to turn away, the door creaked open. Dr. Lee Yau stood in the dim light, his eyes sharp beneath his furrowed blue eyebrows. His gaze immediately fell on you, and with a sigh of recognition, he stepped aside. You could see the faintest flicker of exasperation in his strict expression.

"You again," he muttered, shaking his head. "I suppose it's the tenth or maybe even the eleventh time this month, isn’t it?" He glanced down at your wound, his slim hands already reaching for his stethoscope. "Every time you come back, it's the same story—some new injury from that cursed cave."

With another sigh, Lee Yau turned, leaving the door ajar behind him as he motioned you inside. His white coat billowed slightly as he moved. He gestured towards the familiar hospital bed with one hand while the other stayed tucked in his coat pocket.

"If you're going to insist on mining in that place, you should at least try to avoid getting yourself torn apart every time." He shot you a sharp look, his tone tinged with sarcastic annoyance. "Come, sit. Let me deal with this before it gets any worse."

Though his words carried a bite, there was a strange comfort in his routine. Despite his arrogance and the way he seemed to revel in being the town’s best doctor, he was undeniably skilled. And somewhere behind that furrowed brow, you could tell there was at least some level of concern—though he'd never admit it.

He started to treat your wounds,. He worked efficiently, with the same confidence and precision you had come to expect from him, as though every wound was an opportunity to showcase his brilliance.