Capturing the Young Doctor's Heart: Mr. Big Shot Won't Let Me Go Chapter 163: Don’t Keep Things Bottled Up

Claire Prescott still found it unbelievable.

When Zara ntioned his grandfather, Shane Lowell, and how The Lowell Family had vast resources and complex connections, she felt nothing significant at that ti. But now, after eting his relatives, she seed to have a more concrete understanding of his family background.

The influence each relative of The Lowell Family held was daunting to her, making her reluctant to imagine how powerful The Lowell Family was in the industry.

At the sa ti, she seed to better understand why his family couldn’t accept her.

Children from such families were ant to be prestigious and dazzling. With The Lowell Family’s resources and connections, surely, there would be a well-educated, prestigious young lady that would be a match for him.

But she was a descendant of The Lowell Family’s arch-nesis...

Sensing the hint of lancholy in her eyes, Keane Lowell spoke, "What’s wrong?"

Claire Prescott shook her head.

At that mont, the tir rang.

She turned off the alarm, moved closer to him, and started removing the needles one by one from his head. She asked with concern, "How do you feel? Any better?"

Keane didn’t respond, instead, he carefully observed the changes in her expression, trying to fathom her thoughts.

But he couldn’t guess what she was thinking.

Yet he knew.

The age gap was there, and young girls like her never played by the rules and were adept at hiding things. Although they had been together for a while, and most of the ti he could figure her out, there were still monts where he couldn’t completely grasp her thoughts.

Like now.

When she turned to discard the needles, Keane didn’t let her leave.

His broad, warm palm pressed gently through the fabric on her waist, and the tenderness and strength made her scalp tingle, causing her fingers clutching the needle box to tighten.

Out of the blue, her eyes t his deep, piercing gaze.

"Claire, don’t keep things bottled up around ."

Worried that soone else might walk in and see their intimacy, she couldn’t help but brush his hand off, "I... I know."

Keane rose and planted a kiss on her smooth forehead, "I should be going."

Claire Prescott looked up at him, stood on tiptoe, quickly kissed his cheek, and a soft smile unconsciously spread across her lips, "Take care, President Lowell."

...

Three days later, the symptoms of the baby, who was less than six months old, had almost entirely disappeared, though the baby still appeared a bit low on energy.

Claire Prescott reduced the dosage of Scutellaria from the original prescription and told them to continue the dication for two more days to consolidate the recovery.

After the child recovered, The Young Family sent over a banner as thanks. The couple personally penned the words and signed their nas, making the gesture highly aningful.

But, as usual, she just put the banner away in a drawer.

When Iris Yates visited and caught this mont, she couldn’t help but feel happy for her, "That’s so you, pulling off another big accomplishnt. With so many banners, why don’t you display even one of them?"

"I don’t like the color."

"..." Iris was montarily speechless and jokingly said, "Next ti, I’ll get you a light blue one, see if you’ll hang it."

"That wouldn’t look right."

Iris chuckled, "From you and your grandfather, I’ve truly witnessed the charm of traditional Chinese dicine. Had I known back then, I would’ve followed and learned from your grandfather."

"Traditional Chinese dicine has its rits, and so does Western dicine. Your family’s got a mber who’s undefeated in cardiac surgery; by the way, it’s been ages since I last saw Uncle Yates."

"I’ve been ho for several days and only saw him once. We had dinner as a family, but a call from the hospital had him rushing back imdiately."

"He’s working too hard."

"He is. He often complains about back pain but never finds the ti to get it checked."

Claire thought for a mont and said, "I’ll join you after work to visit him at the city hospital."

Iris nodded, "Sure."

Then.

Iris handed her an invitation.

Claire Prescott looked at it puzzled, "High school anniversary?"

Iris nodded, "Yeah. I went back to school last ti and bumped into Fifi. She asked to pass this invitation to you, saying she’d love to see you."

Fifi was their high school horoom teacher’s nickna.

The invitation’s cover featured a photo of their school’s main entrance, and inside, it clearly listed her na and the date.

"Are you going too?" Claire asked.

"I’ll be back at school then, no ti to attend."

"Alright."

Just as she was putting away the invitation, Iris reminded her, "There’s a letter inside too. Fifi specifically asked to tell you to read it."

Claire gave it a careful look.

There was indeed a letter inside.

After opening it and reading its contents, she found out it was an invitation for her to deliver a speech in front of the entire faculty and students.

She chuckled bitterly, "Having , the troublemaker, to advise the younger students, what’s Fifi thinking?"

"There’s this teacher-student relationship where scolding is care; Fifi still likes you a lot."

Claire was helpless.

Truthfully, she didn’t have much sentint for their school, but since Fifi invited her, it was hard for her to refuse. It was also an opportunity to see other teachers.

A bell rang, signaling the end of the workday.

Claire Prescott exited Sinclair Apothecary with Iris, arm in arm.

When Iris ntioned a wealthy classmate was planning to treat the entire class to dinner the next evening and asked if she wanted to join.

Claire shook her head without thinking, "No."

One, they weren’t familiar.

Two, class reunions were always about comparison and flattery, she’d experienced it once and had no desire to attend again.

"The classmates are really looking forward to seeing you. They’ve been tagging in the group, asking if you’ll be there."

In the class group chat, Claire was the only one not in it, and she’d set notifications to ’Do Not Disturb.’ But every ti Claire was ntioned, people would shalessly tag her, asking about Claire.

She always ignored it.

This ti was no different, leaving everyone hanging.

Claire said dispassionately, "They just want to hear gossip about . Even if they carried in an elaborate sedan chair, I wouldn’t go."

Iris was amused by her words, "Fine, you don’t want to go, but I’m going. I’ll see who dares to gossip about you in front of ."

When they saw that familiar motorcycle.

It reminded her that the helt Iris had given her was left at Azure Court.

At that mont.

The old doctor walked out of Sinclair Apothecary, and Claire’s heart skipped a beat. She nudged Iris’s arm as a reminder.

Iris followed her line of sight and hurriedly exclaid, "Dr... Grandpa."

The old doctor looked at them deeply; this ti, he didn’t stop them like before and rely advised, "The roads are busy, drive slow."

"Okay, Grandpa, we’ll head off then."

With that, Iris put on her helt, picked up Claire, and revved the engine.

In front of the old man, they moved at a pace slower than a bike. Only after leaving his sight did they dare to speed up a bit.

...