"Yes, Madam, please rest assured." Mrs. Lynch responded promptly, following Laura Quinn’s instructions, she put a small packet of sothing into the milk, and then carried it upstairs.
Laura Quinn watched Mrs. Lynch complete all of this with her own eyes, then turned and left with satisfaction, carrying her bag.
Ann Vaughn had just finished her bath and, upon seeing the hot milk on the table, knew it was prepared by Mrs. Lynch.
Although the sll was strange, she didn’t want to disappoint Mrs. Lynch’s care for her, so she would always drink it up.
After finishing the milk, Ann Vaughn took out a needle kit she had hidden at the bottom of her suitcase.
A row of neatly arranged golden needles glinted with a cold light, and Ann Vaughn sadly brushed over them.
She couldn’t bear Cyrus Hawthorne’s child.
When she discovered that Cyrus Hawthorne was the little brother, she had countless thoughts, excited and ecstatic, wanting to live out every future she had fantasized over these fifteen years with him.
Having children, growing old together.
But she never thought that he would fall in love with Cynthia Vaughn and had long forgotten her.
A one-sided marriage is futile, and a child born in such an environnt would not be happy.
So she had to prevent herself from getting pregnant; this thod wouldn’t harm her body and required only three applications.
After the acupuncture, Ann Vaughn looked over the secret dical manual her grandfather left her, growing increasingly regretful as she read.
She grew up by her grandfather’s side; the golden needle and unique dical skills her parents and sister couldn’t inherit were all passed on to her, and he even left a small clinic in The Imperial Capital as her coming-of-age gift.
But her parents always looked down on traditional dicine and exalted Western dicine; when her grandfather passed, she was still a minor, and her parents sold the small clinic without her consent.
Nowadays, traditional dicine is in decline, and people consider it a scourge terribly exploited by fa-seekers, nearly drained of its final worth and drawing contempt.
The Vaughn Family was like this; the Hawthorne Family even more so.
What could she do to live up to her grandfather’s expectations...
-
The next day.
Ann Vaughn had barely woken up when she received a call from the current owner of the small clinic.
"Miss Vaughn, I plan to emigrate next month; if you still want to buy this clinic, I can give you priority consideration, but as for the price..."
Ann Vaughn was so excited she almost jumped up, trying her best to steady her voice, "The price is not an issue; please hold it for , I’ll co over right now to discuss it in person!"
She had waited so long, almost thinking she would never have the chance to buy back her grandfather’s clinic, yet unexpectedly, things took a sudden turn!
Ann Vaughn didn’t dare delay; she quickly freshened up and went out.
The current owner of the clinic was also a practitioner of traditional dicine; he had bought it back then because the traditional dicine industry had great prospects at the ti, but now he couldn’t keep it running.
Back then, the clinic sold for only a million, but now Ann Vaughn needed three million to buy it back.
Ann Vaughn’s heart skipped a beat; after a long pause, she pleaded, "Could you please give one week? I’ll gather the money as soon as possible."
"I can only give you three days; I have a pile of matters waiting to deal with, where do I find so much ti to wait for you?"
"Three days are enough; I appreciate it!" Ann Vaughn took a deep breath, thanking him.
No matter what, she had to try.
Ann Vaughn returned to the Hawthorne Family in a hurry to add up all her assets. Despite saving diligently over the years, she had only managed to save one and a half million, still over half less than needed.
She didn’t have a job; the Hawthorne Family thought her involvent in traditional dicine brought them sha; she couldn’t ask them for help, nor could she let them find out.
Just then, Mrs. Lynch ca upstairs to call Ann Vaughn, "Young Madam, the Old Master is here."
"Grandfather is here?" Ann Vaughn snapped out of her thoughts, surprised upon hearing this. Old Master Hawthorne resided in a manor in the suburbs for peace and wouldn’t normally co to The Hawthorne Residence.
She quickly tidied up her things and went downstairs.
As she reached the staircase, she heard the sound of an argunt coming from the living room.
"Grandfather, I don’t love Ann Vaughn at all." Cyrus Hawthorne said, sitting in a single sofa with a slightly cold deanor, his brows showing so weariness.
Reviews
All reviews (0)