Watching the ti approach two and a half hours, she could no longer hold back, raising her voice, "Why is there still no movent inside? Should soone go in and check, lest sothing has happened and now they’re afraid to co out."
"What kind of ’sothing’ do you an?" Lowie Wilmar asked back with a bad temper.
Raymond Wilmar called out disapprovingly, "Lowie Wilmar, how can you speak to your aunt like that? She is your elder!"
Lowie Wilmar curled the corner of his mouth, his peach blossom eyes slightly narrowed, looking dangerously, "I think she doesn’t look like an elder at all. On the contrary, she seems quite eager for sothing to happen to grandfather."
Offended by his insinuation, Caryn Zachmann angrily retorted, "What nonsense are you spouting? When have I ever hoped for anything to happen to your grandfather?"
Lowie Wilmar let out a sneer, towering over her as he looked down and asked, "Does aunt usually barge into the operating room at the hospital just because she feels like it? The surgery isn’t even finished, and you’re already clamoring for soone to go in. What’s your intention?"
"You!" Caryn was fuming with anger, yet couldn’t find the words to counterattack. After being upset for a while, she said coldly, "Keep being stubborn! If sothing happens to your grandfather, I won’t let her off the hook! Life is at stake, I will definitely call the police."
Lowie Wilmar found her behavior annoying, hands in pockets, standing casually, the corners of his eyes lifted, showing a bit of a chilly glint.
Just then, the door that had been closed for two and a half hours opened.
A defiant figure erged from inside.
"How is my father?!" Caryn was the first to speak, looking more like she couldn’t wait to deal with soone rather than being anxious to know Mr. Wilmar’s condition.
Seeing this, Yonathan Wilmar furrowed his brows sharply, approached from another direction, and asked in a warm voice, "Ms. Quinlan, how is my father doing?"
Nathalie Quinlan lifted her head, not even glancing towards Caryn, walked straight out to Yonathan, exhaustion in her voice, but she sounded relaxed, "He’s awake now."
"Awake?" The color drained from Adelle Wafford’s face in the crowd, she clenched her fists, incredulous.
Caryn Zachmann felt as if she had been slapped in the face, her cheeks burning hot, disbelieving her own ears, she murmured, "How could he wake up so quickly? Even with surgery, it would take 48 hours before possibly regaining consciousness."
Nathalie Quinlan, hearing her words, looked up; her dark, bright eyes were both cold and harsh. She raised her hand to adjust the brim of her cap, and said lightly, "Chinese dicine acupuncture does not require craniotomy so, of course, there’s no need for such a long recovery period, and it can achieve an effect close to that of surgery. It’s worth learning more about the things our ancestors left us; not all of their thousands of years of experience is dross."
"..." Caryn clenched her hands, montarily at a loss for words.
Was Nathalie’s remark ant to be a slap in her face?
Nathalie, however, did not engage with her. After making her point, she pulled out a glass vial from her pocket and tossed it to Lowie Wilmar.
"Take it."
Lowie Wilmar caught the object reflexively, asking, "What’s this?"
Upon seeing what was in his hand, he instantly understood.
These were the pills made by Nathalie Quinlan.
He had been in Beijing for over a month and hadn’t returned ho, causing a scarcity on the black market. He’d heard from Silvania Ingram that the price of the pills had skyrocketed from 500 to almost 50 million. He counted about ten pills in the vial Nathalie had given him.
"From today, one pill every two days, and after a week, switch to one pill per week. This should last about three months. We’ll see how things go after three months."
Lowie Wilmar took the vial, not saying much, and said, "I’ll transfer the money to you later."
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