"Fine! What a wise decision, President Vanderbilt!" Lin Tong spat through gritted teeth, his cold glare lingering on Daniel like a venomous snake before he stormed out, his white coat billowing dramatically behind him.
Charlotte stood trembling, caught between fury and helplessness. Elena's word was absolute - once her mind was made up, no force in heaven or earth could change it. But while Elena might stake her life on Daniel's promises, Charlotte's blood ran cold at the thought.
If anything happens to her... the entire business empire would collapse.
"Dr. Lin, please wait—!"
She turned on Daniel, her voice shaking with barely contained rage. "If anything happens to President Vanderbilt because of you, I'll make sure you regret ever being born!" The threat hung in the air as she rushed after Lin.
Daniel clenched his fists, his mind already racing.
The miracle doctor from the capital - the one who'd later become legendary. I have to find him.
Elena's injuries couldn't wait.
But twenty-four hours...
This time... I won't fail her.
Only when the door clicked shut behind Daniel did Elena finally open her eyes.
She stared at the empty doorway, her gaze so intense it seemed to burn the shape of his retreating figure into the very air.
"Young Mistress..."
Wyatt's voice was rough with barely restrained emotion.
"Why him? He has no status, no accomplishments, not even basic human decency! And now—now he's literally killing you, and you're just... letting him?"
A single tear traced its way down Elena's pale cheek.
"How much more of yourself will you sacrifice for him?"
The voice came from Wyatt, his usual composed demeanor cracking under the weight of barely restrained fury.
Every muscle in his body trembled with the effort to hold back his killing intent.
Were it not for his ironclad professional discipline—
Were it not for knowing Elena treated Daniel as her very life—
He would have cut the bastard down where he stood.
"Prepare to return to the capital... the day after tomorrow," Elena murmured, her voice barely audible.
Wyatt's breath caught.
Had she finally—
Finally broken free from Daniel's poisonous hold?
But before hope could take root—
Elena tugged the sheets higher, her pale lips curving into a ghost of a smile.
"My injuries... tell no one."
Tell. No. One.
Wyatt understood instantly.
Even if she collapsed—
Even if she died—
She would not let it happen in this city, where Daniel lived.
Because her family—the Vanderbilt dynasty—would burn the world to punish him.
"You—" Wyatt's voice shattered with rage. "You'd protect him even in death?! While he's out there plotting your end?!"
Fury, grief, hatred—they boiled in his veins.
Daniel Lockwood.
You'd better not be lying this time.
Or I'll carve your heart out myself.
"You'd better not be lying this time!" Wyatt's voice was a blade of ice. "If anything happens to the Young Mistress, I'll hunt you to the ends of the earth—even if it costs me my life!"
Daniel paid no heed to Wyatt's threats or Charlotte's distrust. His mind was laser-focused on one objective—the miracle doctor from his past life.
Perhaps it was a side effect of rebirth, but his memories of previous events were crystal clear.
He remembered...
The reclusive genius physician who'd perished in a fiery tragedy—tomorrow, on the 15th!
Changtian Street, Jiang City
Hours later, Daniel stood before an unassuming courtyard nestled between modern high-rises. The aged wooden door bore a black lacquered plaque with four gilded characters:
"Miraculous Hands, Divine Healer."
To most, it would seem like arrogant posturing.
But Daniel knew the truth.
That plaque had been personally inscribed by a Qing Dynasty emperor. Dr. Zhang Zizhen's lineage was legendary—his great-grandfather had served as royal physician to the imperial family itself.
A Father's Plea
As Daniel approached, a well-dressed man knelt on the cobblestones, his expensive suit wrinkled with desperation:
"Dr. Zhang! Name your price—I'll pay anything! Save my boy... he's all I have left!"
The man's face tickled Daniel's memory, but he couldn't place it.
A teenage apprentice leaned against the doorframe, picking his nails with bored disdain:
"Save your breath. Master doesn't treat corporate vultures. Come back when you've donated half your blood money to orphans."
Daniel studied the man's face—there was something familiar about those sharp features, but the memory remained just out of reach.
At the doorway, Dr. Zhang's young apprentice remained unmoved by the desperate pleas:
"I don't care how you found us," the boy sneered, crossing his arms. "Master retired a year ago. No patients. Not for emperors, not for billionaires—no one."
"But—"
The man's protest was cut off by the resounding slam of the wooden door.
He stood frozen before that impassive barrier, eyes hollow with devastation.
His last hope—gone.
Ten days.
The hospital had given his son ten days to live.
Now?
Nothing.
Why?
First his wife... now his child?
What use was power, wealth, influence—
When he couldn't even save his own flesh and blood?
As the broken man staggered away, Daniel still couldn't place him—but the rejection came as no surprise.
He knew why Zhang had secluded himself.
The Incident.
A year ago, a terminally ill patient had died under Zhang's care. Not from malpractice, but the cruel whims of fate. Though the family bore no grudge, the guilt had crippled the legendary healer's spirit.
And tomorrow at dawn—
Flames would consume both the doctor and his secrets.
Though the patient's family bore no ill will, the tragedy became Zhang Zizhen's eternal torment.
From that day forth, the legendary healer vanished from the world, sealing his gifted hands away forever.
Yet in the days following Zhang's fiery death, the old scandal resurfaced with a vengeance.
Just as online mobs branded him "a quack who got divine retribution"—
A bombshell report exploded across the internet.