Qin Yue heard her dad's voice from the other side.
The tone carried a mix of helplessness and sorrow, with an undertone of wistful complaint—like a neglected concubine in a deep palace.
Qin Yue suddenly sighed and said to Ji Ruyun, "He's too busy. The only joint activity we have every month at the start is sitting together to look at the shift schedule."
"The two of us sit together, look at the duty roster, and start finding discrepancies. It's impossible!"
Ji Ruyun chuckled, "Come on, Yueyue, you're already considered lucky!"
"Do you know why your dad didn't go into surgery?"
Qin Yue was taken aback—she hadn't thought about this question before. "Why?"
Ji Ruyun reminisced about those days, her expression a mix of laughter and tears.
"When we were dating, your dad had just entered the department. He wasn't great at anatomy, so my daily job was to be his model."
