Inside the hospital room.
"What's going on?"
Adam's expression was somewhat strange.
"I... I need to ask you something."
George hesitated.
"Go ahead."
Adam looked at him.
"I think I might have a skin problem…"
George stammered.
"Oh, boy!"
Adam couldn't help but let out a Sheldon-like exclamation.
He already had a pretty good guess.
George clearly realized that Adam probably knew as well. Blushing, he said, "It looks like a rash. I think I know what it is, but I can't get a close look at it myself, so I'm not sure."
"Take off your pants."
Adam sighed, rubbing his forehead.
He had been about 80% sure before, but now he was 95% certain.
"I think I can just describe it. It's red…"
George hesitated, his hands resting on his waistband, making one last attempt to avoid it.
"If you can describe it and you already suspect what it is, why not just go straight to treatment? Why ask me?"
Adam wasn't too eager to examine him either. With that, he turned to leave.
He needed to wash his hands.
At this moment, he finally understood Sheldon's germophobia and obsessive-compulsive tendencies a little better.
In the world of American TV shows, frequent handwashing and disinfection aren't just the paranoia of a 'crazy person'—they're actually quite necessary. You never know what you might come into contact with.
"Wait."
George reached out to stop Adam.
Adam swiftly dodged him. "Stop!"
George's chubby face turned crimson with embarrassment.
Adam's reaction said it all.
Realizing he had overreacted, Adam reminded himself that this wasn't the response of a professional doctor—it was his past life instincts as an ordinary person, blindly fearing STDs.
"You have two choices: either diagnose yourself, and I leave."
Seeing George's expression, Adam's professional instincts kicked in again, and he softened his tone. "Or, you take off your pants and let me examine it. No matter what it is, early diagnosis and treatment are key."
George hesitated for a moment but ultimately unbuckled his belt, turning his head toward the ceiling while letting Adam examine him.
"So?"
"It looks like syphilis."
Adam recognized it at a glance.
"Whew."
George let out a sigh of relief.
He was sure he hadn't had it before, and given that he had been intimate just last night and was already showing symptoms, it was likely early-stage syphilis.
Treatment was simple: a sufficient dose of penicillin would take care of it. At least it wasn't something as terrifying and incurable as HIV.
"Don't relax just yet."
Adam warned, "This is just a preliminary diagnosis—it's not 100% certain. You need to get tested immediately. A pathogen culture is necessary to screen for all types of gonorrhea. You should know, syphilis isn't the only one out there."
"R-right."
George tensed up again.
"There's an old saying in hospitals: Don't hop on random public buses."
Adam smirked. "So, who gifted you this lovely present?"
"I don't know how this happened…"
George looked distraught. "Olivia… She didn't seem like that kind of person."
"Just her?"
Adam's expression twitched, secretly relieved that he had stuck to his principles.
Olivia was that pretty young nurse who had admired him and even tried to pursue him.
If he hadn't been strict about his own rules, he could have been the one infected.
Hospitals in TV dramas really were chaotic and dangerous.
Looks like Barney might just win that bet after all…
"Of course."
George nodded. "I'm not that kind of guy. If we didn't truly love each other, I wouldn't have done it."
"You sure?"
Adam looked at him strangely.
Even now, he still thought they were in love?
If George had been faithful, then the only logical conclusion was that Olivia… had not been.
"…"
George read the meaning in Adam's eyes and fell silent for a moment before asking, "Adam, what should I do?"
"I already told you—get screened for gonorrhea and start treatment as soon as possible."
Adam frowned.
"I mean Olivia."
George looked conflicted. "How should I deal with her?"
(This part is intentionally obscured in the original text.)
"Do you really have to ask?"
Adam scoffed. "Obviously, you need to find out who else she's been with. He or they—along with her—will all need treatment. And just so you know, whether you tell her or not, I will be reporting this. Otherwise, this could spread, and the entire hospital could turn into a petri dish of disease."
Who knew how many people in the hospital had already been exposed?
Although these infections are primarily transmitted through sexual contact, blood, and saliva, other transmission routes can't be entirely ruled out.
For instance, syphilis-contaminated clothing can still pose a risk.
It's impossible to only play defense forever—you have to take action.
Adam had been living in this environment for a long time, and he needed to ensure safety.
Reporting it to the hospital was the best way to handle the situation: if people were infected, they could get treated; if they weren't, they could take preventive measures. Containing the spread was the best solution.
"No, wait!"
George panicked. "If you report it, I'll be exposed!"
"You really think you can keep it a secret?"
Adam looked at him with pity. "You'll need to go to the lab for the tests, right? Hospital gossip spreads faster than viruses."
"I could do it anonymously."
George protested.
"The lab staff are all seasoned pros."
Adam shook his head. "Your guilty expression alone will give you away. Besides, we're doctors. If we get sick, we get treated. It's not a big deal. It's not like you're the only one."
"That's easy for you to say."
George was still reluctant.
If he had the guts to face this head-on, he wouldn't have dragged Adam into a hospital room for a secret checkup in the first place.
"Well, of course, it's easy for me—I actually practice self-discipline."
Adam couldn't help but chuckle.
"…"
George was at a loss for words.
He had always assumed Adam was a playboy, but now he was the one infected while Adam was totally clean and confident.
That just didn't make sense!
"Alright, I won't report it yet. You have until this afternoon to get tested."
Adam decided after some thought.
"Really? Thanks."
George was overjoyed. He thanked Adam and rushed off to get tested.
Watching George's retreating figure, Adam shook his head.
It wasn't that he was truly looking out for George.
He just knew that, even without his intervention, the moment George got tested, the news would spread like wildfire throughout the hospital. The senior staff would definitely take action.
If, by some chance, they didn't, Adam could report it later.
After all, reporting this kind of thing wouldn't exactly enhance his reputation either.
Sure enough, Adam was right.
That afternoon.
As Adam was washing his hands for the third time, Cristina and the others crowded around, gossiping.
"Have you heard? George has syphilis! Who would've thought our sweet, innocent boy would turn into a playboy and a syphilis poster child? Hahaha!"
"He got lucky."
Adam couldn't help but laugh as well.
Early-stage syphilis was easy to treat—especially since they were in a hospital with plenty of penicillin to wipe it out completely.
If it had been a more severe type of gonorrhea, Cristina and the others—his friends—wouldn't be laughing.
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