"David, forget it, let's not treat it. I accept my fate, ugly is ugly. I know you won't despise me. We don't have much money to begin with, let's save it for more important things. Annabelle needs to go to school, and we'll need money for that."
The woman gave a sorrowful smile and lifted her hand to remove the mask from her face.
People passing by saw it; some gasped, some covered their mouths, and some deliberately took a wide detour to avoid getting close.
All because the woman's face beneath the mask was truly shocking, enough to send chills down one's spine.
Logically speaking, although this woman was not a beauty, she had delicate features and a pleasant appearance.
But now, starting from her left eyebrow to the edge of her right lip, there was a large diagonal scar running across her entire face!
Over 20 centimeters long!
3 centimeters wide!
Utterly hideous, ugly, and terrifying!
On her face, it looked like a giant worm was crawling, truly eerie.
Moreover, the stitched wound seemed to be infected.
Some areas were swollen red, some were grayish, and some were oozing yellow pus!
Beyond fear, it also made one feel nauseated!
"Mommy isn't ugly, mommy isn't ugly, mommy is the most beautiful!"
The little girl clung to her mother's chest, speaking comforting words but crying herself.
The woman held the child tightly, tears streaming down like rain.
David Engweil squatted helplessly on the ground, grabbing his hair with his hands, also choked with sobs: "I'm sorry, my wife, I'm sorry, it's my fault for being useless, for not protecting you..."
The family of three cried together.
"Don't come crying to me! Go away!"
Benjamin Rosedale shouted with a stern face but turned to Sarah Sullivan with a grin: "Miss, let's discuss the cooperation in the office. Don't worry about the money; True Elegance Co. has nothing if not money."
Sarah Sullivan looked at him coldly: "Yes, nothing else, your conscience was eaten by dogs."
Benjamin Rosedale was a bit embarrassed.
He chuckled awkwardly: "Miss, what are you saying? We're talking business now. Judging by your outfit, you don't seem wealthy. You should cherish this opportunity to make money—"
Before he could continue, Sarah Sullivan took out the Centurion black card: "Cut the crap, you can't afford my price."
Benjamin Rosedale recognized the black card and immediately fell silent.
Looking at Sarah Sullivan, his eyes were now filled with fear.
Misjudged!
She must be a wealthy heiress or some rich man's kept woman.
Not someone a small beauty salon owner could afford to offend.
So he quickly made himself scarce.
...
"Husband, let's go home," the woman with the hideous scar persuaded David Engweil, who was still squatting on the ground.
A man over 1.8 meters tall, at this moment crying like an aggrieved little wife.
"Alright, honey, let's go home. Don't worry, even if you remain like this for life, I will never despise you. I swear..."
David Engweil said resolutely.
"If swearing worked, then all the scumbags in the world would be dead by now."
Sarah Sullivan's cold voice sounded.
The human heart is the hardest to predict.
How many promises of devotion turned into betrayals?
How many passionate lovers ended up as mortal enemies?
Not to mention others, even she, the one William Shaw once vowed eternal love to, should she have not been dismembered and left to wild dogs after he changed his heart?
Upon hearing this, David Engweil and his wife were taken aback.
"My husband is not that kind of person." The wife defended her husband.
"I don't know what kind of person your husband is; I am just giving you a reminder to avoid secondary harm."
Sarah Sullivan's tone was calm and detached.
The wife wanted to say something more, but David Engweil said: "Honey, the lady is right. No one can guarantee I won't change my mind later, so myself—"
There was an abandoned beer bottle on the ground.
David Engweil picked it up, smashed it on the ground, and held the sharp glass fragment against his own face.
He said, "Honey, I'll destroy my face too, that way I can't change my mind even if I want to!"
"No!"
"No!"
The two voices sounded simultaneously.
David Engweil's wife hurriedly grabbed his hand, but David Engweil's face was still cut, blood flowing, staining half his cheek red.
The other "no" came from a middle-aged woman with short ear-length hair who appeared very neat.
This middle-aged woman ran to the four of them.
She swiftly took out an emergency suture kit from her person.
She took out a needle, thread, gauze, and tape to stop the bleeding, suture, and bandage David Engweil.
After a few minutes, she finally breathed a sigh of relief and said, "Luckily, the wound isn't too deep, and there won't be any obvious scars in the future. David! How could you be so impulsive? Your whole family, especially Lily, depends on you! You can't do stupid things!"
Then the middle-aged woman turned to Sarah Sullivan and said with disapproval: "Young lady, please don't make irresponsible remarks! I don't know if others are scumbags, but David certainly isn't! This couple has suffered enough, you shouldn't make fun of them anymore!"
Being closer, Sarah Sullivan saw the badge on the woman's chest — Yasmine Vance, Chief of Surgery at Huston University Hospital.
No wonder her bandaging skills were so swift, she was a doctor too.
Being reprimanded like this, Sarah Sullivan's expression remained unchanged; she said blandly, "I don't have the leisure to make a mockery out of this; I simply wanted to test if this man is a hypocrite or not. It seems he isn't, so his injury wasn't in vain, and I'll heal his wife's face."
Hearing Sarah Sullivan say this, the few of them were stunned.
David Engweil's hope surged: "Miss, are you telling the truth?"
Before Sarah Sullivan could answer, Yasmine Vance's expression changed: "Young lady! What are you joking about? Lily's scar has left even the country's top plastic surgeons at a loss, who do you think you are to boast of healing her? I see you're just like that Benjamin Rosedale, a fraud trying for publicity stunts through them!"
Sarah Sullivan raised an eyebrow: "Mr. Vance, you sutured this man earlier using the basic interrupted suture method. This method is simple, widely applied in clinical practice, suited for skin, subcutaneous tissues, and muscle fascias, especially for suturing infected wounds. Your actions seemed skillful, so you probably didn't get that Chief of Surgery title through connections. But don't you think using the figure-of-eight suture technique would be more appropriate?"
A series of professional terms came out of Sarah Sullivan's mouth. The Engweil family didn't understand, but Yasmine Vance did.
She's facing an expert here.
Yet she was still a bit unconvinced: "But David's wound is somewhat irregular, and using the figure-of-eight method is a bit difficult to execute—"
"Lame is lame, don't make excuses."
Sarah Sullivan couldn't be bothered to argue further. She took the suture kit from Yasmine Vance and approached David Engweil.
She roughly tore off the gauze on his face.
David Engweil instinctively dodged.
"Don't move!" Sarah Sullivan snapped.
This voice seemed magical, and David Engweil stayed put.
Yasmine Vance also remained silent, watching Sarah Sullivan's actions.
Withexpert precision and incredible speed, Sarah Sullivan removed the stitches from David Engweil's face and resutured it.
Both operations took less than half a minute.
The Engweil family couldn't see the technique's merit as laypeople.
But Yasmine Vance was dumbfounded.
She was stunned!
An expert can tell just by looking.
With her previous suturing, scars would definitely remain after healing.
Though not very conspicuous.
But Sarah Sullivan's suturing made Yasmine Vance two hundred percent certain that there wouldn't be a single scar left!
David Engweil's face would look as if it was never injured!
Amazing!
Who taught this young woman such skills!