CHAPTER 77: CHAPTER 77: WHAT IS YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH MY WIFE

But Cyrus Hawthorne’s merciless words pierced through her last shred of hope, like countless needles.

Even more despairing than the moment years ago when she carried him out of the fiery room, getting hit by the fallen bookcase on her shoulder.

Back then, there was still little Cyrus, who, despite being on the verge of fainting, comforted and encouraged her with gentle words.

Ann Vaughn first discovered then, that there were things sweeter than candy in this world.

It was the gentle smile little Cyrus showed her then.

But now.

She no longer had any candy.

Meanwhile, outside the hospital room.

Sutton Jennings, who just brought over a midnight snack, was walking towards the hospital room when he saw Cyrus Hawthorne coming out.

Cyrus noticed him too, paused in his steps, and scanned him with deep eyes, his thin lips curving slightly, "Lord Sean of Yama’s Gate, seeing you bests hearing about you."

Sutton raised an unexpected eyebrow, surprised that Cyrus knew his identity, apart from the brief encounter at Aurelia.

"Wondering why President Hawthorne isn’t resting in the middle of the night, what’s brought you here?"

"This is my wife’s hospital room, so I should ask you, what’s your relationship with my wife." Cyrus walked to stand half a meter beside Sutton, his eyes and demeanor probing and assessing, his aura as compelling as ever.

Unfazed, Sutton met Cyrus’s gaze and smiled indifferently, but answered obliquely: "President Hawthorne mistakes fish eyes for pearls, you’ll regret it sooner or later."

With those words, Sutton gave Cyrus a meaningfully deep look, then entered Ann’s room.

Dark shadows danced in Cyrus’s eyes, his brow furrowing slightly at Sutton’s words but not taking them to heart.

An invisible war, smoke subtly diffusing.

-

Cyrus pushed open Cynthia’s hospital room door, seeing her awake, lying there with such a delicate and frail appearance, evoking pity.

"Cian, I made you worry again, didn’t I?" Cynthia smiled weakly, looking apologetically at Cyrus.

"Don’t say such silly things." Cyrus walked to the bedside, his cold demeanor thawing, softening slightly, "Anywhere else feeling uncomfortable?"

Cynthia shook her head, "I’m much better now, just a little tightness in my chest, this time it’s all because of..."

As she spoke, a hint of venom flashed in Cynthia’s beautiful eyes.

If it weren’t for that vile Ann Vaughn, she wouldn’t have fallen down the stairs and ended up in this sorry state!

Refusing to let her have the heart transplant is one thing, but she harmed her this bad!

Cynthia couldn’t swallow this resentment no matter what.

"Cian, I don’t know why Sister got suddenly angry, maybe at dinner I said something wrong and made her uncomfortable, it’s all my fault, please don’t blame her..."

Focusing on Cynthia’s tear-stained, pitiable face, Cyrus thought inexplicably of Ann earlier, despite her dissatisfaction, explaining nothing.

Tough and stubborn, not like someone with a cruel heart.

"Cynthia, was it really Ann who pushed you down the stairs?"

Hearing Cyrus’s question, Cynthia was momentarily stunned, but her face turned even softer and more innocent, her voice tinged with weeping, "No, it wasn’t, it was all my carelessness..."

Speaking, Cynthia clutched her chest, looking nearly breathless with distress.

Cyrus’s expression changed a little, immediately pressing the bell to call the doctor.

"I understand. Don’t get excited, calm your emotions, just focus on recovering, leave everything else to me," Cyrus said quietly, gently holding Cynthia’s hand to comfort her.

It was unnecessary for him to worry, Cynthia couldn’t be someone who’d risk her own health just to set someone up.

Cynthia obediently nodded, softening as she closed her eyes, secretly relieving herself.

But...

Why today did Cyrus, who never doubted her words, suddenly question them?

Could it be... he found out Ann was pregnant?

Cynthia’s heart was shaken and uncertain, her eyes darting slightly, "Cian, is my illness incurable? I heard from the doctor that I may not survive the year..."

"No, don’t think like that." Cyrus frowned internally, pulling her into his arms gently, "Just focus on waiting peacefully, I’ve found a heart source."

"Really? That’s wonderful." Softness in Cynthia’s voice, a flash of malice on her face.

The doctor was right, Cyrus was indeed going to transplant Ann’s heart for her, but some key information was still missing from her.

Cyrus wouldn’t tell her, after all, she was always Ann’s most innocent and kind-hearted little sister, how could she agree to take her big sister’s heart?

In her mind, Cynthia triumphantly envisioned receiving Ann’s heart and marrying Cyrus in style.

-

Two days later, Ann finally discharged, having previously informed Professor Chaney, she proceeded directly to handle reinstatement formalities.

Mark Joyce came to pick her up from school daily, and since that day, she hadn’t seen Cyrus again.

Ann had been away from campus too long, but fortunately, she’d read many medical books, her grasp of knowledge broader than average students, so she didn’t fall behind academically.

Thus, Ann began her routine from home to school and the little clinic, focusing her heart on studies and extracting potions, leaving no time for distractions.

Meanwhile, the Yuyan Cream began gaining small-scale popularity due to strong recommendations from users, causing Ann’s stock to sell out quickly.

This prompted complaints from those unable to purchase.

Ann was forced to set a monthly sales limit; once sold out, customers had to wait until next month.

There was no alternative, as Ann managed the little clinic alone, focusing more on potion extraction.

Not to mention, lately she was researching a potion, an endeavor started by her grandfather, aiming to extend human natural lifespan.

A bold claim, but neither absurd nor baseless.

A century ago, a pharmacist successfully concocted such a potion, with only a fragmentary record left in medical books.

The records incomplete, with many parts incompatible with modern genetics, Ann’s task was to fill in the gaps.

Just then, the clinic door curtains rustled, a rolling sound echoing.

Raising her head, Ann saw Sawyer Jennings pushing Sutton Jennings inside.

"Miss Vaughn, I seek your help with something." Sutton’s vibrant eyes curved, looking calmly at Ann.

Ann glanced at Sawyer’s disgruntled face, suddenly feeling a bad premonition.

In the next moment, her premonition came true.

After Sutton left, Ann faced Sawyer, seated primly at the table, his proud little face tilted, making Ann’s head ache.

"Your brother asked you to help here, can’t defy him, right?" Ann pointed towards the medicine cabinet, "Note down every medicine in each compartment over there."

"Finish in three days, and I’ll agree to let you help. Otherwise, you can serve tea and water here."

Sutton entrusted Sawyer for Ann to care for, which surprised her.

Moreover, Sawyer agreeing to help astonished her more, given he always insisted he’d never marry her, evidently scared off enough.