"Give me a dozen. I want to send a few to my mom; she has severe winter cracking."
"Don't push, I want some too. Save five bottles for me."
The crowd instantly became rowdy.
The originally orderly locker room turned into a crowded marketplace.
Cash, credit cards, and even meal vouchers were thrust in front of Sarah.
The frenzied momentum made it seem as if they weren't snapping up hand cream, but tickets for U2's Vertigo Tour.
But just as this carnival was about to reach its climax, a discordant voice of bureaucratic authority suddenly rang out.
"Hold on."
The crowd parted, and a middle-aged male Doctor in a white coat and gold-rimmed glasses, with meticulously combed hair, walked in.
He was the Deputy Director of Dermatology, Dr. Dr. Williams, a man known in the hospital as a Guardian of the rules—rigid, dogmatic, and extremely protective of his reputation.
Frowning, his cold gaze swept over Sarah's cart and finally landed on the cash being exchanged.
Then, he reached out and picked up a bottle of hand cream.
He didn't rush to open it. Instead, he flipped it over to the back, stared at the ingredient list for a while, then opened the cap and took a sniff.
Subsequently, a look of undisguised suspicion and contempt appeared on his face.
"Umbrella Biotech? Never heard of such a shell company."
Dr. Williams pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose and questioned sternly.
"Nurse Sarah Mason, although cosmetics don't require strict FDA Phase III clinical trials like drugs do, peddling products that imply restorative functions to colleagues and patients in a public medical facility like a hospital is suspected of misleading advertising and illegal business operations."
Having said that, he looked around and raised his voice to ensure everyone could hear.
"You are all medical staff and should have basic scientific literacy. If someone has an allergic reaction or a wound infection, who will take responsibility? The hospital, or you personally? If the hospital administration finds out, you could be summarily dismissed for violating Article 12 of the Employee Code of Conduct, which prohibits engaging in commercial activities using one's position."
Dr. Williams' stern questioning caused the once-enthusiastic Nurses to cool down instantly.
The money in their hands was pulled back.
No one wanted to lose their job over a bottle of hand cream, let alone offend the deputy director who held the power over their evaluations.
Sarah was also beginning to panic from the questioning.
The confidence she had just built up wavered in the face of the Doctor's authority.
She was just a low-level Nurse, accustomed to following Doctors' orders; faced with these heavy accusations, she instinctively wanted to apologize, pack up, and run.
Just as she was about to back down, her fingers touched the cold glass bottle on the cart.
"Practice is the sole criterion for testing truth."
Alice's voice rang in her mind again.
"For this product, there's no need for excuses. Those who use it will know."
For a moment, Sarah felt as if her sharp-eyed, uncannily brilliant niece was standing right behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder and giving her a sense of scientific confidence.
She took a deep breath, looked up, and stared directly into Dr. Williams' eyes: "Dr. Dr. Williams, I know you are an expert, and I know this might not follow the rules. But I want to ask you, have those steroid ointments you prescribe us actually cured our hands, other than thinning the skin and creating hormone dependency?"
Dr. Williams was stunned for a moment, his expression turning sour.
Occupational contact dermatitis is an occupational hazard for medical staff; it is indeed a global problem that is difficult to cure.
"As for whether this bottle involves a scam?"
Sarah pointed at Dr. Williams' hand.
As a dermatologist, due to long-term contact with various reagents, Dr. Williams had a noticeable red eczematous patch on his index finger joint, covered with dry, silvery-white scales.
It was an old problem of his that had bothered him for years; he had tried all sorts of medications, but they could only provide relief, not a cure.
"I see your hand is also troubled by this. Why don't you try it right here? If the itching doesn't stop within ten minutes and the redness and swelling don't subside within half an hour, I'll disappear with my things immediately and voluntarily submit my resignation to the hospital administration."
The room erupted in an uproar.
"She's betting her career; has Sarah gone mad?" someone whispered in a corner.
The air in the locker room seemed to freeze.
Everyone held their breath, watching the two in their confrontation.
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