Hirayama Ichian, as the name suggests, is a very Buddhist person.
A Buddhist-like youth who takes things easy.
It's not fair to say that such people are bad; it's just that they don't have much ambition.
Hirayama Kazuyasu had excellent grades during his university years, and logically speaking, he could have easily become an attending physician at a major hospital.
However, he found the large hospitals too busy, so he decisively chose to open his own private hospital, specializing in treating minor illnesses such as colds and fevers for ordinary people.
Although you don't earn as much as those big hospitals, owning your own business is still better than working for someone else.
However, regardless of the circumstances, perhaps due to Hirayama Ichian's superior skills, or perhaps due to his relatively low fees, his small clinic did quite well, and his income was not among the lowest in the city.
In short, Hirayama Ichian's small clinic was doing quite well.
Compared to the life of a corporate slave, it couldn't be easier.
When there were patients, Hirayama Kazuya would go and treat them.
If not, just bring out a deck chair, bask in the sun, and enjoy life.
She's only in her thirties, but she lives a more comfortable life than people in their nineties.
Although he doesn't earn much money, he doesn't smoke or drink, and he doesn't have a girlfriend or family, so he can manage to get by.
Moreover, the diseases they address are not particularly difficult to treat, so there's no reason for medical disputes to arise.
It's only troublesome when you need to get medicine from outside every day.
And today is not much different from the past.
March 18, 2021, 11 p.m.
Hirayama Kazuya let out a leisurely yawn, then took a big gulp and finished off the cup noodles in his hand.
He then finished the broth from the cup noodles with lingering satisfaction before finally putting the cup down contentedly, rubbing his stomach and leisurely saying, "It tastes really good~ For a bachelor like me, a steaming bowl of instant noodles is simply a savior!"
Hirayama Kazuyasu is not very good at cooking; to be precise, he knows absolutely nothing about it.
His meals consisted either of instant noodles or eating out.
"Hmm, I'm going to sleep in late tonight. I wonder if I'll be sleep-deprived tomorrow..."
Hirayama Kazuyasu knew that his carefree time would not last long.
So he reluctantly stood up and walked towards the entrance of his clinic.
In the past, Hirayama Ichian would have closed two or three hours earlier, then finished his instant noodles and went to his warm bed.
Business was exceptionally good today, which is why it was delayed until after nine o'clock.
Well, as for why Hirayama Ian didn't close between 9 and 11 o'clock...
The reason is actually quite simple.
I went out to buy a late-night snack, ate it all, and then walked back, which took me more than an hour.
After that, I watched anime in the clinic until I finished a bowl of instant noodles not long ago, which ended my anime watching.
I dawdled until eleven o'clock.
However, since the clinic was his own anyway.
He decides when to close the shop.
So occasional dawdling isn't a big deal for him.
Hirayama Kazuya silently gazed at the scenery outside. It was a familiar sight, yet each time he looked at it, he always felt something inexplicably new.
For example...
"So, which brat did it?! If I find out, I'm definitely going to spank him!"
Hirayama Kazuya stomped his foot angrily, looking at the chalk graffiti at his feet with a look of grief and indignation.
Fortunately, kids these days are quite sensible; they only drew it on their feet. It wouldn't be so nice if it were drawn on the entrance of a clinic.
Even so, this kind of graffiti should still be cleaned up as soon as possible. For a small clinic like his, maintaining a good reputation is the most important thing.
If it's particularly dirty, I doubt any patients would dare to come to the clinic.
Thinking of this, Hirayama Kazuya reluctantly took out a bucket and a rag and started wiping the graffiti on the ground.
"Speaking of which, what is this... a new anime idol? Is this what it looks like? When did Japanese aesthetics become like this?"
Hirayama Kazuya looked at the grotesque-looking things on the ground with a hint of helplessness. A few years ago, raising virtual bishoujo girls was quite popular in Japan.
How come the Japanese have become so ravenous after only a short time?
Although Hirayama Kazuyasu is a native Japanese, he is not very interested in the development of Japan's unique anime industry, and he is also quite oblivious to news, so he was completely unaware of the monster incident that had been reported in the news.
Therefore, he was completely unaware that the current trend is anime featuring monster characters.
The anime he's watching now is still the kind of manly anime that's been a must-watch for 10 years.
"Hello, is the doctor here?"
Just as Hirayama Kazuya was cleaning up the monster graffiti on the ground, a girl's voice reached his ears.
"Ah, I am the doctor..."
Hirayama Kazuya scrubbed the graffiti on the ground vigorously, but seeing little effect, he helplessly raised his head and looked towards the source of the sound.
She was a young girl with a pure and innocent appearance. She wasn't his favorite type, but she wasn't the type he disliked either.
Of course, this is not particularly important to him. Even if he doesn't have a girlfriend now, there is no need for him to look for a high school student.
If he had the guts, his old father would definitely have killed him.
The focus now is on the person the girl was helping.
A white-haired boy, his face was extremely pale, and he was barely breathing.
He looked like he might kick the bucket at any moment.
"Albinism...?"
Hirayama Kazuyasu frowned; his professional ethics as a doctor made him take it seriously immediately.
He threw away the rag in his hand, opened the clinic door, and said to the girl, "Hurry up and let him in. There's a bed inside; let him lie down and rest."
After saying that, Hirayama Kazuya quickly packed up the bucket and rag and ran into the clinic to look for something.
Yui was already covered in sweat.
But this girl had a tenacious spirit; she dragged Tu Xiaohei all the way here and desperately put him on the bed.
At this moment, under the light, Yui finally saw the boy's true appearance.
White hair was almost the most noticeable feature of Tu Xiaohei. However, under the light, Youyi noticed that Tu Xiaohei's white hair was unusually smooth and strong, and there was no sign of it falling out. It was not like the fragile white hair of an old person.
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