Chapter 123

Shane was racking his brains for an excuse to dismiss Rachel when an opportunity presented itself. He turned to Matthew. “Are you sure I’ll recover immediately after the treatment?”

Matthew nodded. “I’m certain. You’ll be back to normal in thirty minutes.”

Jeffrey sneered. Traditional medicine was known for its delayed efficacy, yet Matthew had the audacity to make such a claim. He glanced at his watch and chuckled. “It’s 9:00 AM now. We’ll see what happens by 9:30 AM.”

Rachel could no longer remain silent. Brewing herbs was mandatory in traditional medicine, a process usually taking half an hour. Jeffrey was being unreasonable. She interjected, “Shouldn’t you start the timer after the medicine is prepared?”

Jeffrey smirked. “To be honest, Mr. Wright doesn’t believe in traditional medicine at all. He’s already being very generous by wasting thirty minutes on this. If you’re incapable, just forget it.”

Knowing her attempt to stall had failed, she turned to Matthew with a troubled expression. “We don’t have time to brew the medicine. What shall we do?”

Matthew chortled. “Why would we need to brew medicine for treating facial paralysis? We don’t! Thirty minutes is more than enough.”

Rachel was dumbfounded. “How are you going to treat him without brewing any medicine?”

Shane was even more flabbergasted. He’d initially thought there was a one percent chance of a cure, but now he’d lost all hope. He was now simply intrigued to see what kind of farce Matthew would perform.

A sneer spread across Jeffrey’s face. Even the best doctor couldn't treat an illness without medicine. He anticipated Matthew's failure, arms crossed.

Matthew remained unfazed by their reactions. “Get me a pot and boil some water. Have the janitor collect some wilted leaves from the roadside, preferably rotting ones. Avoid the fresh ones.”

Rotten leaves? Boiling water? The uncanny ingredients immediately startled Rachel. “Matthew, are you planning to use these to treat facial paralysis? Isn’t this a bit…” She wanted to say it was too flippant, but she hesitated, not wanting to embarrass him.

Shane truly believed he was witnessing a farce. He mockingly concurred, “Sure. I’ll have someone prepare that right now.”

He called his secretary and relayed the instructions. Ten minutes later, a janitor appeared with a bag of decayed leaves and an electric pot.

Matthew began boiling water. He selected some of the more rotten leaves and tossed them into the pot. Rachel’s expression turned grim. Brewing rotten leaves? Even a dog wouldn’t touch it, let alone Shane. She had no idea how she would handle the situation afterward.

Jeffrey stared at Matthew as if he were an idiot. He remarked, “Traditional medicine isn’t just feudally superstitious, but it’s also incredibly stupid. Brewing medicine with rotten leaves—you’re going to kill him instead of healing him!”

Shane looked as if someone had punched him. Staring at the rotten leaves simmering in the boiling water, he felt nauseated.

He could no longer bear it. “I should never have let you mess around. There’s no way I’m drinking that. Throw it out now.”

Matthew chuckled. “This isn’t meant for drinking.”

Shane frowned. “What are you going to do with it if it’s not for drinking? Am I supposed to smell it?”

“Exactly,” Matthew smiled. “You’ll be healed after you inhale it for fifteen minutes.”