When his eyes opened

Chapter 8 The Magical Alchemy Potion

That day, I left school unusually smoothly. Thanks to the morning incident, Kesha and her followers didn't dare to trouble me for the time being.

"Ouch, my stomach hurts so much..."

Just as I exited the school gate, I heard a cry of pain.

A wealthy-looking lady was squatting by the roadside, clutching her stomach, her face pale. The man beside her looked helpless.

I helped the woman up. "Are you okay? Do you need help?"

"My stomach... it hurts so much..."

The woman's face was pasty, and I could see she was sweating profusely from the pain.

I asked the man, "Did you call an ambulance?"

"Yes, ten minutes ago," he replied, apparently getting impatient because of the delay.

Without thinking, I pressed my hand to her stomach.

"Does it hurt here?"

"Yes, right here!" The woman looked at me in confusion. "Are you... a doctor?"

I smiled slightly without answering.

Then, I rummaged through my bag and pulled out a small bottle of alchemy potion, handing it to her.

"Drink this. It will ease the pain."

The woman hesitated, sniffing the potion and examining it, clearly reluctant to drink it.

She was right. In America, no one would dare drink something from a stranger.

So, I took out my driver's license and showed it to her.

"I'm a student at the school next door. If anything goes wrong, you can call the police and have them find me."

Maybe it was my honest expression, or perhaps her pain tolerance had reached its limit, but the woman finally drank the potion.

"This will only relieve the pain temporarily to prevent you from going into shock. When the ambulance arrives, you still need a thorough checkup at the hospital."

While I spoke, her condition visibly improved.

She marveled at the potion's effect and warmly invited me for coffee, which I politely declined.

So, the woman had to say goodbye. "Thank you so much. We'll definitely meet again."

I waved and smiled, not taking her words seriously. The world was vast. How likely was it that we'd meet again?

I continued walking to the bus stop, only to see a Lamborghini approaching, stopping in front of me.

Seeing Oscar's handsome face, I rolled my eyes.

"Get in. I'll give you a ride home."

He spoke with the confidence of someone used to getting his way.

I pretended not to hear him.

Oscar probably had never been ignored like this before, and his expression darkened instantly.

He jumped out of the car, grabbed my arm, and tried to drag me in.

"Let go of me!"

I struggled, using the self-defense techniques that my master taught me.

Surprisingly, Oscar couldn't overpower me at first.

"Answer my question, and I'll let go," he said.

Embarrassed by our roadside struggle, I reluctantly agreed, "Fine, ask away."

Oscar finally released me, rubbing his wrist and muttering, "You're stronger than you look."

"What do you want to know?"

"Why do you wear makeup like that? Why hide your face?"

I saw the bus approaching and dashed onto it. Before he could react, I shouted at him.

"No reason. Just because I want to!"

*****

Back home, Regina was nowhere to be seen. Only Benson greeted me.

"Where's Mom?" I asked.

Benson hesitated, saying Regina was busy at the company and would be home late.

Suspicious, I crossed my arms and glared at him. He avoided my gaze, looking like he wanted to escape.

"Tell me what is going on, or I'll go to the company myself," I threatened him.

"Don't!" Benson stopped me quickly. "She doesn't want you to worry about company matters."

"I'm part of this family too. I may not be able to help, but I deserve to know."

Benson sighed, touched by my words, and finally gave in.

"It's the elders... They're taking advantage of Mr. Hartling's coma to seize power. Mrs. Hartling has been coping, but they're becoming more outrageous. Today, they blamed Mr. Hartling for a project's financial loss, claiming he embezzled funds..."

I frowned. I had heard about the severe internal conflicts in the Hartling Group but didn't realize it had reached this level.

I couldn't help Regina. Only Herbert could.

After a quick dinner, I rushed upstairs to see him.

He lay there, eyes closed, like a prince in a fairy tale, except for his furrowed brows, which ruined the peaceful image. Because of his stern look, he exuded a menacing aura even in his coma.

I smoothed his brows, whispering, "There's trouble at the company. Mom hasn't come home yet. I'll take a bath and then give you a massage. Be good and wait for me."

With that, I went into the bathroom.

Yet I was unaware that my words had shocked Herbert, causing his rapid breathing. His eyelashes fluttered quickly as if he was about to wake up any minute!