In the crowd, Zhao Ziyuan's jet-black hair was all tied up high, like the style women wore when riding horses, fully exposing her makeup-free face to the sun.
No matter if she was facing a foul-smelling beggar or a child suffering from abdominal swelling and endless crying, Zhao Ziyuan remained calm and composed, her lips curling into a faint smile, as dazzling and eye-catching as a pristine snow lotus.
On the entire street, everyone passing by would certainly look her way.
It was the first time seeing a female doctor offering charitable medical consultations, where seeing the doctor and getting medicine didn't cost a dime. Everyone, whether sick or not, wanted to join in the excitement.
Behind Zhao Ziyuan, there followed two attendant-dressed maids, responsible for distributing and administering medicine to those holding diagnosis slips.
At first, Little He found the lively scene fascinating, but eventually, something felt off, and she frowned, looking at Jiang Lai.
