Chapter 360

"Alright, hold these flowers. I’ll go take a shower and change my clothes, otherwise I’ll make you cold," Yannis said gently. He didn’t dare hug her for too long, afraid she might catch a chill.

He let go of her, stepped back, and handed her the flowers. There was water on the flowers, so he gently patted them dry.

“Would you wait for me in our room? I’ll join you right after my shower,” Yannis coaxed her.

Zinnia remained silent, simply gazing at him. Lately, she had been speaking very little, and Yannis never pressured her. Clutching the flowers, Zinnia watched as he went to shower and change.

Zinnia watched as Yannis disappeared into the room, then remained rooted to the spot outside, standing guard like a silent sentinel.

Nathan’s health was declining by the day, so the family had a special ICU set up for him at home.

Jackson kept a constant vigil by his bedside, watching over Nathan around the clock.

Worried about leaving Zinnia alone, Yannis hurried through his shower. When he came out, he saw Zinnia still standing exactly where he’d left her, still as a statue. She hadn’t moved an inch.

The wind from outside swept in, blowing against her willowy frame. Strands of hair clung to her face, but she made no move to brush them away.

“You’ve been waiting out here for me this whole time?” Yannis asked as he took the towel from his head and draped it over his shoulder, walking over to her.

His deep eyes were filled with worry as he reached out and touched her hand, only to find it ice-cold from the wind. He frowned.

Before he could say anything, Zinnia’s fingertips gently sought his wrist, feeling for his pulse. Her usually indifferent expression was now focused and serious.

Yannis stood still, letting her examine him. “Don’t worry. I’m fine and won’t catch a cold.”

Only after confirming he was truly all right did Zinnia finally let go of his hand.

Holding Zinnia’s hand, Yannis gently led her. “Let’s go back to your room.”

She wasn’t herself right now. The slightest disturbance could unsettle her.

“The food has gone cold again. Shall I whip up something fresh for you?” Yannis asked gently as he led her back to the room. The meal on the table had cooled once more, though Zinnia had barely touched it.

Zinnia said nothing, just sat there clutching the bouquet tightly, staring at the flowers with an unreadable expression.

“How about I put them in a vase for you? Your hands are freezing. Let’s warm them up first,” As he spoke, he reached out to take the flowers from her hands.

But Zinnia’s fingers tightened their grip, refusing to let go. The flowers carried an intense, almost unnatural shade of blue. The color was so vivid it bordered on surreal, with glistening dewdrops clinging to its petals, giving it an eerie, hypnotic allure.

“Zinnia, won’t you let go?” Yannis asked softly, reaching to take the flowers from her hands but failing.

Zinnia remained silent. She must have these flowers, the impulse surging through her, though she couldn’t say why.

Restlessness welled up inside her. ‘Why do I need these flowers? I have simply seen them in the rain, and somehow, I just had to have them,’ she wondered.

A distinctive notification sounded from Yannis‘ phone on the table. The alert tone was unusual. Yannis picked up the phone.

After reading the message and glancing at the flowers in Zinnia’s hands, surprise flashed across his face.

Sensing his sudden shift in mood, Zinnia looked up at him in confusion.

“Zinnia, we can save Nathan,” Yannis announced, his voice trembling with excitement.

“Is Bluenoom really the final ingredient we’ve been missing?” Jackson burst into the home lab, breathless with anticipation.

When his eyes landed on the Bluenoom resting on the table, they blazed with excitement.

Just now, Yannis had received word from Devin. Millicent had returned to the Yarbrough Manor today and, by chance, stumbled upon an ancient text. In it, she found mention of a rare medicinal flower, Bluenoom.

If one could find the Bluenoom, combine it with Florivive, and add alchemist’s blood, any poison in the world could be cured.

Among Bluenoom, Florivive, and alchemist’s blood, each was exceedingly rare, nearly impossible to find in this world. Yet now, they had managed to gather them all.

They didn’t need to wait for Florivive to blossom; as long as it fully unfurled, it could be added to the medicine and boiled.

But Bluenoom’s survival conditions were brutally specific. No one could ever predict when or where it might appear; finding it was pure luck. And Zinnia’s blood was the alchemist’s blood.

Perhaps all the lifelong devotion Nathan poured into caring for Zinnia as a child was, in the end, coming full circle.

Zinnia was now searching for herbs. She’d already looked for countless auxiliary herbs before. Now that she had found a solution, a glimmer of hope lit up her once-hollow eyes.

Jackson asked, “Zinnia, do you want us to help?”

Zinnia stayed silent, her brows furrowed as she focused entirely on measuring the medicinal components.

Jackson said nothing more. He and Yannis watched her work, neither daring to disturb her.

When she finished preparing all the ingredients, Zinnia placed them into the medicine cup.

The two men kept their eyes on her as she searched the room for something else, following her every move.

Finally, she found the blood-drawing kit and walked over to Yannis. She handed it to him, then rolled up her own sleeve, wordlessly signaling Yannis to draw her blood.

Her blood was the final ingredient needed for the remedy.

Yannis held the blood-drawing kit, his gaze fixed on her bared arm. Because she had been alternating arms for previous blood draws, a small mark was already visible where the needle would go.

“You’re not feeling well, and you haven’t eaten yet. Why don’t you eat something first?” Yannis lowered his gaze, worry etched in his eyes.

In just a month, as Nathan wasted away, she hadn’t fared much better herself.

She hadn’t eaten all morning, and having her blood drawn so suddenly would take a heavy toll on her body.

Meeting his worried gaze, Zinnia pressed her lips together, then turned and walked over to the table.

The food on the table had long gone cold. She picked up the plate and wolfed down the food in big, hurried bites.

“Zinnia?” Yannis‘ eyes brimmed with concern, wanting to stop her, but she had already finished eating.

Zinnia walked up to Yannis and held out her arm. Yannis looked down at her pale arm, blue veins stark beneath the skin. His lips pressed into a tight line. “Can your body take this?”

This time, they needed to draw about 14 fluid ounces of her blood. The medicine had to be boiled with her blood to fully activate its effects.

Previously, she’d given just 1.4 ounces daily for ten days, and even that left her pale each time. Now she had to give ten times that amount all at once.

Even a healthy person would feel weak and drained after losing that much blood. And her condition went without saying. This was gambling with her very life.

But with Nathan’s condition deteriorating, there was no more time to wait.

Zinnia furrowed her brows, lips trembling as she tried to speak, but no sound came.

Though her voice failed her, it was clear from her lips that she meant yes. Whether she could handle it or not, she had to endure.

Yannis‘ jaw tightened, his face drawn with tension.

“Let’s sit,” he murmured. Yannis led her over and helped her sit down. Zinnia didn’t resist.

Once seated, Yannis began preparing the blood-drawing kit, his every movement slow and reluctant, as if hoping to delay the inevitable. But no matter how slowly he moved, the moment still arrived.

The slender needle glinted as it pierced her skin. Crimson blood began to ribbon through the tube.

Jackson stood aside, his expression darkening. The joy he’d felt earlier at the news that Nathan could be saved had already been replaced by deep concern.

Both Nathan and Zinnia were important to him. His heart ached at the thought of either of them coming to harm.

Minutes crawled by, each second stretching longer than the last.

Zinnia’s face turned pale, her vision darkening at the edges. Her fingers tightened in a white-knuckled grip on the chair’s armrest.

“Zinnia, are you feeling unwell?” Yannis asked, his voice thick with worry.

Yannis and Jackson kept a close eye on her, their faces etched with concern as they watched her struggle.

Zinnia shook her head. A sharp pain lanced through her chest. She bit down hard on her lip, determined to endure it in silence.

“It’s done.” Yannis‘ voice was hoarse as he spoke.

Upon hearing those words, the last thread of Zinnia’s strength snapped—her vision blurred as her body gave out.