Chapter 1765

A gentle, cozy breeze brushed his face. He faintly heard birds chirping and water gurgling, then caught the familiar scent of herbs. The light before him blurred his vision.

In a trance, he found himself in a meadow filled with blooming flowers and precious herbs. He consulted his medical book, selecting herbs and placing them in a basket. Turning, however, he stepped into thin air and fell endlessly into a bottomless abyss.

"Argh—" he screamed, a mere whimper.

He awoke, eyes wide, drenched in sweat, gasping for air as if risen from a deep pond. The scent of herbal medicine filled his lungs, and gradually, his senses returned.

"You're awake, huh?" a familiar voice said calmly. The man stopped fanning him after hearing his cry. "Perfect timing!"

He put down his fan, grabbed a towel-wrapped handle, lifted a steaming pot of medicine, and poured a bowlful. After filtering out the dregs, he offered it. "Drink it while it's hot!"

The smell of medicine was familiar, but it was too hot. He held the bowl carefully, delaying his drink.

"You had a dream?" Dominic asked, sitting beside him to examine his profile. "A nightmare?"

Austin nodded, then quickly shook his head. "No, not really."

"Well, it's good to dream. It beats having no dreams at all; all we have to do is close and open our eyes!"

Dominic wiped his own sweat with a towel. Making the concoction had been exhausting, requiring constant attention to the fire. Although herbal medicine stores offered brewing services, physicians usually preferred to do it themselves. Dominic had prepared it for three days, providing daily acupuncture as well.

Austin remained silent, then drank the medicine once it cooled. He felt his energy replenish.

"How are you feeling today?" Dominic asked, seeing Austin set down the bowl.

Austin felt his chest, pressing gently. "Better than yesterday."

"Let me have a look!" Dominic took his wrist, feeling his pulse. The old man, seemingly inattentive, had carefully observed daily changes.

Austin hadn't had an attack in two days and had stabilized. His pulse was weak, but that was good; previously, its strength had been superficial and illusory, propped up by an unknown drug. When his illness flared, his muscles and veins would nearly burst.