So You're Such A Doctor Song

Chapter 48: Let’s just hope you’re not shooting an ad for sanitary napkins .

Translator: Henyee Translations Editor: Henyee Translations

Dr. Song took a deep breath, and tried to visualize himself in a gynecology department where he was a doctor who examined all types of women.

Closing his eyes, he began to fall asleep after some time. But when he was on the verge of drifting off, Changqing’s legs suddenly moved away from him and instead, her torso began to maneuver itself to his chest and she kept rubbing against his chest. She found a position on his chest that was similar to a pillow and continued her sleep.

Dr. Song gritted his teeth and tried to ignore her.

But less than a few minutes later, Changqing’s hand started to roam all over his body.

Where’s this wicked girl trying to touch? Is she really sleeping or is she just a hooligan pretending to sleep while she tries to grope me?

At five o’clock in the early morning, Song Chuyi was filled with frustration as he felt drool dripping onto his chest, forming a pool of saliva...

——-

In the morning the next day, when the sun was high up in the sky, Changqing was awakened by the splashing sound of the shower in the bathroom.

She covered her head with the quilt and five minutes later, she heard the sound of the bathroom door opening.

Changqing peeked out from the blanket and looked in the direction of the bathroom. She saw Song Chuyi neatly dressed in his clothes that he wore yesterday. However, his short black hair was currently wet and was dripping water droplets onto the floor.

Changqing complained by muttering, “Why would someone ever take a shower so early in the morning? It’s not like that someone didn’t shower yesterday too!”

Song Chuyi gave her a sweeping glance with a scary look when he heard her complaining.

Changqing felt a chilly wind blowing past her when his gaze swept past her. Did I infuriate him again? Or is he currently having a male period? Why’s his temper so volatile? Changqing thought to herself.

“I’m going to the hospital now. Do you want me to drop you off at your TV station while I’m on my way to the hospital now or are you going to go there yourself later?” Song Chuyi asked while inhaling a morning breath.

“I can drive there myself,” Changqing replied. But soon after, afraid he would misunderstand her, she added: “Because I have to pick what to wear and do my makeup. It’s pretty time-consuming.”

Song Chuyi nodded. “Are you going to the hospital today?”

“No. I have an ad to shoot today,” Changqing replied.

He gazed intently at the comb that was made of carpenter wood on the dressing table before picking it up and combing his hair back with it. “You don’t seem popular. Why are advertisers asking for you?”

His tone was straightforward and unemotional. He didn’t have any intention of mocking her, and it was just an offhand remark that he honestly felt.

However, Changqing perceived his remark as deliberate and malicious sarcasm instead.

“Who said I wasn’t popular? I’m telling you—I’m very popular, okay? It’s you who’s too old-fashioned, endlessly working overtime day after day. Have you used Weibo before? Do you even watch variety shows? I reckon you don’t even watch television in your daily life.” Changqing stood up and launched an aggressive counter attack at him.

Song Chuyi’s fingers paused for a moment.

He was often too busy with his work, and it was true that he rarely watched television.

“I learned a little bit of psychology before. Judging from your agitated reaction, it seems you’re lacking in self-confidence.” Song Chuyi put down the comb and as he teased her, his eyebrows moved upward slightly.

As if it was pricked by a needle, the expanding balloon that represented Changqing’s confidence went flat along with the sound of air leaking out.

“Let’s just hope you’re not shooting an ad for sanitary napkins, a feminine wash or things like that.” Song Chuyi glanced at Changqing whose lips were pouted high up in the air. After teasing her, his thin lips curved upwards and he finally left for work.

Changqing covered her face. She was going insane. The ad she was going to shoot today was precisely what he said—an ad promoting sanitary napkins.

Damn it.

——-

“Changqing, I asked you to practice your lines, but why do you have a bitter look on your face instead?” Wen Tong walked over to her for the nth time and knocked her head a few times. “The director is almost ready.”

“Why is it that the others have offers to shoot high-class ads for makeup products, while I always accept offers to shoot ads for sanitary napkin, stockings, etc?” Changqing’s lips pouted depressingly. “Sister Tong Wen, as my assistant, can you work a little harder?

“Ha Ha.” Wen Tong gave a fake laugh. “Fine. You can reject the offer then. I’ll tell this to the advertisers when we return.”

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