Chapter 74

Andrew Smith froze in his tracks as he stepped out the door. Five silver-haired specialists surrounded him, their eyes gleaming with fervent excitement.

"He's really cured!"

"This is a medical miracle!"

"Let us meet the miracle doctor!"

Andrew pressed a finger to his lips. "Shh—she needs rest."

Disappointment flashed across the experts' faces, but they suppressed their enthusiasm. All five had examined Nathaniel Smith's condition and unanimously declared it hopeless. Yet now, the young man on the brink of death had miraculously revived.

General Charles Turner and Richard Adams hurried over. "How is the young doctor?"

Andrew sighed. "She's exhausted and resting now. She nearly collapsed from hypothermia earlier—thankfully, we were prepared."

"Fiancée?" Charles suddenly realized. "Why didn’t your father mention this?"

Before Andrew could explain, a cry came from the hospital room: "Nathaniel is awake!"

They rushed inside. Nathaniel lay in bed, blinking in confusion at the crowd. "Why is everyone here?"

Helen Turner trembled as she grasped her son’s hand. "How do you feel?"

"Just… really hungry," Nathaniel admitted sheepishly, scratching his head.

"Quick! Plain congee!" Helen ordered. Fiona Turner hurried off to prepare it, the weight in her chest finally lifting. If anything had happened to her brother under her care, she could never forgive herself.

Nathaniel devoured the bowl of congee, then looked pleadingly at his mother. "Mom, can I have some meat—"

"No!" Fiona cut in firmly. "The doctor specifically said only congee for now."

Helen was about to protest, but Nathaniel nodded obediently. "You're right, sis. I'll follow the doctor's orders."

Watching her son’s understanding response, Helen’s eyes welled up again. If saving her boy meant enshrining that young doctor as a saint, she’d do it in a heartbeat.