CHAPTER 105: CHAPTER 105: ZANE THORNE APPLIES MEDICINE TO NATALIE VAUGHN

Inspired by Jim Archer, Summer Churchill figured out many things.

Because she knew Natalie Vaughn’s complicated background, she assumed beforehand that Natalie would be a difficult artist. But upon meeting her, she found that Natalie was not as pretentious as she’d imagined.

Natalie had resources, but she was still diligent. Even if acting was just an experience for her, she treated it seriously.

However, Summer was still worried and fearful. Whenever she interacted with Natalie, she felt constrained, as if there was a river between them she could never cross.

But after listening to Jim Archer, everything became clear.

Life is not meant to be compared with others’. There’s always a mountain beyond a mountain, and comparing forever will never end.

Some people are born with a starting line higher than others’ finish lines. Comparing with them is overestimating oneself and too cruel.

What should be compared is oneself.

Chasing excellence, seeking a better self, and exploring the meaning of life and existence is what we should do in this short life.

We’re merely a tiny speck in the universe; regardless of background, everyone is just an ordinary person. There’s no need to look up to those higher and belittle oneself, thinking you’re nothing.

What we should do is steadily, one step at a time, strive to become the outstanding ones in our circle, and then engage with more excellent people to broaden our horizons.

This is called perspective.

"Mr. Archer, I understand now! I will work hard! I will also take good care of Nina!"

Jim Archer probably couldn’t have imagined that just a few well-intentioned words from him could influence someone’s life so much.

That’s the truth. The more powerful a person is, the broader their vision and perspective, which can’t be compared with others. The willingness to offer guidance suggests that, in his eyes, you are someone with potential. Whether you can take it in depends on your own fortune.

Jim Archer looked at Summer Churchill as if seeing his past self.

All his dissatisfaction transformed into admiration upon witnessing James Vaughn’s capability and vision.

Why can’t one admit the excellence of those stronger than them?

Rumor has it that Natalie Vaughn was the Vaughn Family’s princess, doted on since childhood. She was proud and willful but also possessed admirable ability.

In a short time, she managed to earn the recognition of industry giants in unfamiliar fields. That’s the offspring raised by a distinguished family.

Jim Archer was completely conquered by the Vaughns.

Natalie, who was eating snacks in the hospital room, wouldn’t know how much admiration her performance brought. She only knew that Zane Thorne was truly naughty, eating all the skewers Summer Churchill bought her right in front of her while she drank the bland porridge.

Natalie tossed her spoon back into the bowl.

"You’re too much."

How could he be so heartless to a patient, especially one who was his darling wife?

After finishing the last skewer, Zane Thorne leisurely wiped his mouth, giving a dignified reason.

"I’m preventing you from sneaking bites."

Natalie:...

Did she look like someone who would sneak bites?

"Don’t you think you’re indulging in delicious food while I only get this stuff? It’s pitiful, isn’t it?"

Natalie angrily poked the porridge in the bowl with her spoon.

But Zane Thorne nodded, affirming her statement.

"Indeed, it’s pitiful."

Piling on.

"Well then..."

"But you still can’t eat it. When you’re healed, I’ll buy you more."

"..."

Natalie threw the spoon again.

This late-night snack wasn’t worth eating!

The man watched her throw a tantrum and showed unprecedented patience and even a hint of affection in his eyes.

He reached out, picked up the bowl of porridge, and, in disbelief, brought a spoonful to Natalie’s mouth.

"Just be good, drink porridge for a few days to get by."

Zane Thorne was someone who wouldn’t glance at a dish served by others, yet he was now tenderly feeding her porridge.

Natalie couldn’t help but be astounded.

She thought Zane cooking a hangover soup for her was the limit...

"Why the sudden change?"

She was a bit hesitant to drink the porridge.

Zane looked at Natalie with a sly smile.

"Weren’t you always thinking about me serving you? What, now that I am, you can’t handle it? Then never mind."

As he spoke, the man was about to put the porridge down.

Natalie quickly grabbed Zane’s hand, opened her mouth, and drank the spoonful of porridge.

"How could I not handle it?"

She was quite pleased.

Zane’s eyes flashed a quick smile; coaxing Natalie to do something was really easy.

After finishing the bowl of porridge, Natalie later realized that Zane’s kindness in feeding her porridge was to fill her stomach and dampen her craving for skewers.

But what of it?

How could skewers compare to Zane’s personal feeding?

Natalie burped contentedly, smiling at Zane.

"Thank you, hubby."

Whenever she was happy, her words were sweet; Zane liked this straightforward Natalie.

After tidying up the table and waiting for her to digest a bit, Zane had Natalie lie down on the bed again.

"What for?"

"To apply some medicine."

"Summer already did it for me."

"I’m going to give you a massage."

The words "Summer can massage" were swallowed back. This kind of intimacy easily strengthened their bond.

So she didn’t ask any further, obediently lying on the bed, then rolling up her own shirt.

Seeing Natalie’s waist again, Zane’s face darkened.

Her waist was so slender he could grasp it with one hand.

He first warmed his hands, using their heat to activate the medicinal oil, and then placed them on her waist when ready.

He didn’t dare to exert force; Natalie’s waist was just too delicate, and the bruises on it made it appear more fragile.

But even with this light touch, instead of being helpful, it just made her waist itch, the numbness spreading from his hand across her body.

Her toes curled up from the stimulation.

"You can use a bit more force."

Her waist was sensitive; Zane wasn’t helping her—he was torturing her. When she spoke, she hadn’t even noticed the slight breathiness in her voice.

But Zane heard it all clearly.

His eyes, initially filled with concern, now held an undercurrent of deep desire.

"Cry out if it hurts."

His voice was also hoarse.

Natalie buried her face in the pillow.

To her, Zane’s hands, their warmth, and his low, husky voice were all too sexy. She could almost visualize the heated scene this could lead to.

Those strong hands, veins visible, easily encircling her waist, pressing and kneading.

More tormenting was how she could clearly feel his strength and warmth.

Natalie bit into the pillowcase, her hands gripping the sheets, trying hard to restrain her body’s sensitivity and trembling.

But it was still too much for her.