Monday.
New York-Presbyterian Queens Hospital.
In the emergency department's locker room, today's atmosphere was completely different from the usual lifeless shift changes.
A strange and oppressive sense of anticipation filled the air, somewhat like the low pressure found only in underground casinos or at limited-edition sneaker releases.
Ever since Sarah Mason accidentally showed off her own hand cream a few days ago, urban legends about this mysterious cream had spread like wildfire through the Nurse stations, Doctor offices, and even the janitors' breakrooms.
After several rounds of fermentation, the rumors had become almost fantastical.
"Hey, Jessica, have you heard? Nurse Mason's hands used to be rotten like a zombie's in a horror movie because she dealt with disinfectant every day; her knuckles were full of cracks. But after using that stuff for just two days, they're now as tender as a newborn baby's."
A young girl changing into a pink Nurse uniform said in a low voice, her eyes sparkling with gossip.
"That's nothing."
A senior Nurse nearby applying lipstick curled her lip in disdain, but her movements slowed down.
"I heard from Head Nurse Head Nurse Margaret in the ER that this stuff is some kind of unreleased military lab formula. After that old hag Head Nurse Margaret used it, not only did her old chilblains heal, but even her irritable menopausal temper got better."
"Is it really that miraculous? It's not some prohibited steroid ointment, is it?"
"Shh, don't talk nonsense. How could steroids have such immediate results without side effects? I saw Head Nurse Margaret showing off her hands at the Nurse station yesterday; the skin's luster was like she'd had a medical beauty treatment worth thousands."
Just then, the locker room door was pushed open.
"Creeeak—"
All conversation came to an abrupt halt.
A dozen pairs of eyes instantly focused on the doorway like searchlights.
It was Sarah Mason, walking in pushing a small cart filled with exquisitely packaged boxes.
Sarah felt like her heart was about to leap out of her throat.
Her palms were covered in sweat, and she could barely grip the cart's handle.
The feeling of being stared at like prey by everyone made her instinctively want to run away.
She was just a long-marginalized, low-level single Nurse; she had never been the center of attention like this.
But in the next second, she remembered Alice sitting at the dining table last night, drinking milk while giving her instructions.
"Aunt Sarah, look at me. Your identity right now isn't a Nurse or anyone's subordinate. In that place full of death, pain, and disinfectant, you are the only one who holds the key to beauty and healing; you are the one in control of the core resources. So, straighten your back and carry yourself with poise. You are selling a miracle, not begging for alms."
Alice's icy blue, powerful eyes seemed to materialize in the air at that moment.
Sarah took a deep breath, forcing down her internal panic. She straightened her back, which had become slightly hunched from years of leaning over to care for patients, and put on a carefully practiced, reserved, and professional smile.
"Everyone, thank you for waiting."
Her voice still trembled slightly.
The latest generation limited edition hand cream from Umbrella Biotech has arrived.
She picked up a bottle and elegantly displayed the packaging, which had a very industrial aesthetic.
The frosted glass bottle shimmered with a high-end texture under the lights, and the red-and-white octagonal logo was like a totem—both dangerous and fascinating.
"Because the process is extremely complex, we need to perform low-temperature cold extraction at minus twenty degrees to extract that special bioactive factor. Therefore, production is very limited."
Sarah paused, her gaze sweeping across the eager faces as she threw out the bait of scarcity marketing.
"There are only a hundred bottles in this batch for the entire hospital. Each department might only get a few, but this is already the entire quota I fought hard to get from the company."
The silence lasted less than a second.
"I want three bottles!"
As soon as the words left her mouth, the little Nurse named Jessica was the first to rush forward, waving several crumpled twenty-dollar bills like a white flag of surrender.
"The edges of my nails are full of hangnails; it even hurts to wear gloves. I've had enough of that damn alcohol sanitizer."
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