Chapter 1
1928, Denham, Yorkshire, England, 2:15 p.m.
It's so hot that it seems to melt people into their clothes.
Lin Weilun finally ended his nearly seven-hour journey and got off the steaming old bus.
The cheap, hard leather shoes hurt my toes, and the cuffs of my coarse cotton shirt were frayed.
He made a "tsk" sound, carefully wrapped the winding thread around the cufflinks, and rolled up his sleeves to cover the torn part before raising his head and scanning the house numbers on both sides of the street.
"Number 45...Number 61...Number 77...Number 116...Number 118? Hmm? Where's number 117?"
He turned around twice but didn't see Bus 117, but he saw a bakery on the corner.
The hard black bread was placed on the edge of the window, and the soft honey bread gave off a light fragrance.
"Gurgle." My stomach cooperated and poked my head twice. "I haven't eaten for a whole day!"
Lin Weilun searched his pockets and turned the cracked suitcase over and over again, but only found 2 shillings and 1 penny.
He spent almost all his fortune on the trip across two counties of Great Britain.
But people have to eat.
If you have a clear idea in mind, you will have the confidence to face the next interview - the last interview opportunity.
Lin Weilun went to the bakery and bought a whole wheat bread for 7 pence and asked for a glass of water for 1 pence.
Brown bread was the cheapest, costing only 3p. But I remember it was so hard I could use it to sharpen a knife, and I couldn't finish it before the interview.
So he had to settle for the next best thing, but this left Lin Weilun with only 1 shilling and 5 pence in his pocket.
Even so, he still swallowed two mouthfuls of bread, relieved the stomach cramps, smiled, and politely asked the bakery owner for the location of No. 117.
"117? Ferry Clinic?" The bakery owner, a woman in a blue apron, took a look at the young man's attire. "Are you applying for the veterinary assistant position, too?"
Lin Weilun's heart sank, but he still smiled. "Yes, I'm from County Durham. I don't know if I can succeed."
"Then you better hurry up!" Since there wasn't much work to do that afternoon, the woman had time to tease the good-looking young man. "At least a dozen applicants have come this afternoon. Old Ferry's has a lot of competition! Do you see that alley? Go straight ahead. It's the one covered in ivy."
Lin Weilun looked in the direction of her finger and saw a three-story building with an ivy-covered exterior. He hadn't noticed it because it was the first house at the end of the alley and was blocked by the exterior wall.
Now, he only needed to turn his angle to see that the steps outside the small building were filled with young people around his age. And a quick glance showed that none of their suitcases had any holes in them.
"There's been a long line of applicants every day lately!" The woman wiped her hands. "The government doesn't even recommend raising working horses anymore. You fresh graduates are screwed!"
Lin Weilun: ...Can the beginning be any worse?
If he had traveled through time two years earlier, he would have dragged this body to change his major.
In 1928, two years had passed since the government began neglecting agriculture. Young people were flocking to London as workers, the countryside was declining, and people no longer kept large herds of working horses, so the need for veterinary medicine dwindled dramatically.
Every newly graduated veterinarian seems to immediately join the long queue for unemployment benefits.
There were three or four job postings in the Record each day, but each one had an average of 60 applicants.
When he came through, this body had already graduated and boarded the train to this place.
The memory fusion was good, and Lin Weilun witnessed this brother's miserable interview experience.
Of course, some people say that even if you really can't find a veterinary job, you can still do something else.
Others can do this kind of thing, but Lin Weilun can't.
To be precise, Viren Lingert is not capable of this.
When he just woke up on the train, Lin Weilun searched through his suitcase and personal belongings before he confirmed that "Lingert" was his last name in this world.
At that time, he was excited about having a healthy and youthful new body.
No more needing to take endless doses of medicine or get countless needles stuck in the backs of my hands, which are now only skin left. No more needing to be tortured by cancer cells every night, watching my slowly dying body in the mirror.
This alone was enough to soothe the confusion and disharmony brought about by all the time travel, and he was almost cheering.
Until he saw the stack of government-funded tuition loan receipts for orphans.
The detailed list clearly stated that the government funded this orphan to complete his studies in surgical veterinary medicine at the Royal Veterinary College, at a total cost of 350 pounds over four years.
If he does not work in a related profession after graduation, he will have wasted the funding and will have to repay double the money plus interest, totaling 1,300 pounds.
If he cannot pay back the money, he will face a sentence of 5-8 years.
What does 1300 pounds mean?
Based on his memory, Lin Weilun made a rough conversion.
The purchasing power of £1 in 1928 is approximately equal to £60 in 2024.
Based on the exchange rate of 9.16, it is equal to 549.6 RMB.
1,300 pounds is 714,480 RMB.
….Myocardial infarction is terrible!
Lin Weilun weighed the success rate of becoming an outlaw.
Sadly, it's close to zero.
After all, before traveling through time, he was just an ordinary chef of a Michelin three-star restaurant.
I don't like watching spy movies, nor am I a military fan.
Great Britain in the early 20th century was already a society ruled by law. It was impossible for him to be able to show his face openly after finally having a second chance at life.
So Lin Weilun could only come here with a head full of memories - Denham Town, his last chance for an interview.
If it fails, I'm afraid I'll have to sleep under a bridge on the first night of the journey.
Fortunately, Lingert performed very well and was ranked first in the Royal Veterinary College this year. He was an outstanding graduate with full marks in both pharmacology and surgery.
This gave Lin Weilun confidence, even if it was just talk.
He finished the whole wheat bread in a few bites, and just as he was about to take a step forward, he remembered something and took it back.
"Ma'am," the young man said, raising his head, taking out five pennies from his empty plate and pushing it over, his smile sincere. "You live so close to Mr. Ferry's clinic, so you must be very familiar with Mr. Ferry, right?"
The boss seemed caught off guard by this scene. He was stunned for a moment, then his mouth widened as he grabbed the silver coin. "Oh my! Where did this good boy come from? Of course I know Ferry very well. His housekeeper, Alma, always has a headache when she comes here to buy bread every night because she can't find the assistant she wants! Come here, kid."
The boss hooked his finger and whispered into Lin Weilun's ear, "Old Ferry doesn't like assistants who are stupid and ask questions. He's old and can't stay here much longer. He's looking for a successor. A successor, you know? Those young idiots who just graduated from school are hard to find in his eyes! But it's so hard to find practicing veterinarians who are willing to be assistants to others these days, so he sent you a letter of invitation, do you understand?"
The newly graduated little fool: ….
Lin Weilun took a deep breath and said, "Thank you very much. This is very important to me."
You can't appear too immature, and it's best to have the ability to make a conclusive diagnosis.
...Can it really be achieved by talking about it on paper?
Lin Weilun was very skeptical, but he had no choice but to move forward.
Before leaving, he asked the bakery owner's name and then stood at the end of the queue number 117.
The people in front noticed the movement and turned to look at him. Their eyes immediately turned into disdain after scanning his shabby clothes and suitcase.
Lin Weilun didn't care at all and tried hard to recall Lingert's university knowledge.
Soon, as people walked out dejectedly, the line quickly shortened and stretched into the house.
A kind-looking woman in her 40s handed him a cup of black tea. After confirming his identity, she breathed a sigh of relief and said, "You're the last one today." Then she closed the door behind him.
Standing in the long corridor, Lin Weilun first noticed the clinic on the left.
The transparent glass door on the upper half clearly reveals the interior of the clinic. A gray-haired old man in a dark yellow work suit is examining the buttocks of a King Charles Spaniel.
A bewildered young man stood beside the examination bed.
Even through a door, you can see that the dog's butt hair has been shaved off, and the whole anus is swollen like a ripe peach, with red and white squeezed together.
At first glance, I almost thought the little dog's male penis was coming from behind.
However, Lin Weilun's brain was faster than his reaction, as if it had triggered an automatic answering mechanism, and a string of nouns popped out uncontrollably - the dog's anal gland hyperplasia required the anal gland fluid to be squeezed out first, and then antibiotic powder was applied to prevent infection and inflammation.
"Puff."
As if to confirm his answer, old Ferry also squeezed out the testicular fluid with his hands in the clinic.
The growth is too big, and the dry and thin liquid sprays everywhere, just like a valve.
The beagle's voice was hoarse from shouting.
The young man quickly handed over a white glass bottle, but was glared at by the old veterinarian.
"It seems that the Royal Veterinary College hasn't taught us the difference between painkillers and anti-inflammatory drugs in four years? Please get out. This isn't for you."
"Poor Leonardo." The woman said pitifully and turned to go in and greet the waiting customers.
The young man in the clinic also retreated in embarrassment, bumped into Lin Weilun's shoulder, opened the door and fled.
For a moment, Lin Weilun didn't know whether Da Vinci was the name of the dog or the name of the failed applicant.
It didn't matter anymore because it was his turn next.
"Please come here and wash your hands and change into your work clothes," the woman said businesslike, guiding him over. "Then go in. Mr. Ferry will interview you."
"Thank you, Mrs. Alma." Lin Weilun put the suitcase and denim jacket on the floor by the door and turned to meet the butler's puzzled gaze.
"Do you know me?"
"No, I know Ms. Maggie from the bakery across the street. She heard I was coming for an interview. She specifically told me your name. She said you were a very gentle and kind lady."
Lin Weilun blinked and deliberately used an ambiguous description, seemingly just a casual remark, but it instantly brought the relationship closer.
Of course, it doesn’t matter if you recognize the wrong person, because there is always a housekeeper named "Alma" here.
Sure enough, Alma's facial features relaxed instantly. "Maggie never told me, you're really... come in quickly," she lowered her voice. "I just made some pineapple scones. Da Vinci's isn't finished yet, so you can have a piece in private."
It turns out to be the dog's name.
"Thank you so much." Lin Weilun followed the butler, walked through the long and narrow corridor, and came to the living room at the back.
It seems that this clinic is a family clinic opened directly in the house. It has three floors, and the living area and treatment area are divided by the corridor just mentioned.
The house is filled with classic British style, with rich yet complex colors. Through the wide windows, you can see the lush and colorful vegetable garden outside.
He saw turnips, beans, Swiss chard, rhubarb, and zucchini growing vigorously in the sun. Further away, a grape trellis stood like a small pavilion, with plump kale underneath.
A butterfly alighted on a beet leaf and swept its wings over the straight leeks as it flew away.
"Come on, sit down." Alma brought a plate of puff pastry scones, which were probably made with ripe rhubarb. The crust was crispy and drizzled with syrup, and it looked particularly beautiful.
Lin Weilun took a bite—help, it was so sweet that his throat felt like it was sticking together—"This is insanely delicious!" he exclaimed happily. "I've never tasted such delicious scones. You could open a shop in London with these."
"Is it really that delicious?" Alma was so coaxed that she smiled happily and suggested, "Then have two more pieces. There's still plenty left in the pot!"
"Although this is my greatest wish," he put it down reluctantly, "I think I should go wash my hands and change my clothes first. You know, this interview is very, very important to me."
"That's right," Alma clapped her hands and led him to the sink by the window. "Good boy, I'll go talk to Ferry first. When you're done, just come straight to the clinic."
At this moment, a fly flew in from the window and landed on the back of Lin Weilun's hand.
That's when things got out of control.
In the young man's field of vision, a line of small words suddenly appeared above the head of that ordinary fly:
A fly with a broken hind leg
His figure stopped instantly, Lin Weilun said slowly:?
Seeing the fly flying away, his first reaction was to look at the butler closest to him.
But the wife turned around and left as if she saw nothing.
So.....he's the only one who can see it?
Lin Weilun's scalp tingled and his heart began beating like a drum.
As the head chef of a fine-dining restaurant, he never doubts his senses.
What's more, he no longer has any disease, so it is impossible for him to have dizziness.
What was going on? A time-travel bonus? Or was Lingert suffering from some mental disorder he didn't know about?
At this moment, Mrs. Alma's voice was heard in the corridor.
"Come on, Lingert! It's your turn!"
He suppressed his doubts, changed into his work clothes, walked into the clinic, and made eye contact with a mop-like Persian cat.
The cat's owner hadn't bathed it in at least three months. Its long gray fur was tangled together, and if it closed its eyes it could look like a homeless rag.
"Vellenlingert?" The old veterinarian glanced at him sharply. "Come and see what's wrong with this cat."
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