A weak groan came from the person in bed, and a hand slowly reached out, resting on the edge of the mattress.

Queena felt a growing sense of unease, a flicker of doubt crossing her mind. But she pushed it aside, gave Yves a meaningful look, and announced, “Alright, let’s proceed in the order of your exam rankings. Write down your diagnosis on a piece of paper.”

As the top-ranked student, Anastasia went first, walking straight to the bedside.

After checking the patient’s pulse for a moment, she withdrew her hand and confidently wrote down her findings without any hesitation.

Next up was Yves.

He approached with an air of confidence, but as soon as he touched the patient’s wrist, he froze.

He wasn’t the most skilled student, but he wasn’t completely incompetent either.

Queena had secretly given him the patient’s diagnosis for this assignment, so he was just supposed to go through the motions.

But the pulse he was reading now was completely different from the information Queena had provided.

Yves was suddenly in a bind.

What was he supposed to do now?

Had he made a mistake?

Or was the answer Queena gave him wrong?

He subtly glanced over at Queena, who was standing to the side.

Seeing him dawdle, Queena couldn’t help but frown.

She’d already given him the answer. All he had to do was pretend to examine the patient and write it down. Why was he taking so long?

Anastasia watched the silent exchange between them with an impassive

expression, a faint smile playing on her lips.

It seemed her little setup was working just as she’d planned.

After two minutes of agonizing, Yves noticed that the patient’s pulse wasn’t entirely different from what Queena had described. He concluded that his own lack of skill must be the reason for the discrepancy.

He stopped hesitating.

“I’m done!” he announced, standing up and confidently writing down the answer he had memorized.

The other students followed, one by one.

In less than half an hour, the entire process was complete.

Normally, they would have left the Clark family’s home and returned to the school for their scores to be

graded

but Marlon suddenly spoke

up. “I’m curious about your

diagnoses. May I see them?”

Since he had made the request, Queena couldn’t refuse. She smiled and said, “Of course, but these are all first-year students, so their skills are st developing. Their findings might be a bit amateurish, MD. Clark.”

“Not at all. Everyone at the Global Harmony Medical Institute is talented,” Marlon replied with a polite smile, his eyes briefly flicking toward Anastasia.

This too was part of the favor Anastasia had asked of him.

By now, Queena had collected all the diagnostic papers and began reading them aloud to Marlon.

The first one was Anastasia’s. When Queena saw she had written down a simple hormonal imbalance, she paused, then scoffed internally.

It seemed she had overestimated Anastasia. Was this all she was capable of?

She had been planning to trip her up, but now it looked like it wouldn’t even be necessary.

Yves shot Anastasia a mocking glance.

The second diagnosis was Yves’s, which was far more complex than Anastasia’s.

As soon as Marlon heard it, his expression changed.

Yves puffed out his chest, unable to hide his pride and confidence.

The other students, however, exchanged surprised glances, looking like they

wanted to say something but held back.

As for Queena, she had initially sneered at Anastasia’s simple diagnosis. But as she read the subsequent results, she found they were all the same as Anastasia’s.

Her face began to pale.

It was one thing for Anastasia to be incompetent, but how could the others have

come to the same conclusion?

Her heart skipped a beat as a terrible premonition washed over her.