Zephyr was initially furious, on the verge of throwing Dr. Funke out on his ear. But upon hearing Dr. Funke's claim, he gazed at him incredulously. "Are you saying that Lysander could wake up within two months?"

There was a confidence in Dr. Funke's voice that Zephyr couldn't ignore.

The renowned physicians he'd consulted before, even the esteemed Dr. Everest, had never dared to make any promises about when Lysander might awaken.

Yet there was Dr. Funke, this self-proclaimed miracle worker who had the audacity to guarantee that with his treatment, Lysander could come to in just two months!

Zephyr was not the kind of man to let some quack tamper with Lysander's health, risking more harm than good.

But Dr. Funke's words had struck a chord.

wake up sooner. And now, out of the blue, this man was telling him he could make it happen in two months. Even if Zephyr had his doubts about the

met Zephyr's imposing, murky gaze with a steady eye. "As long as the

"How..."

"How do we cooperate?"

to ask when Zephyr's impatient words cut

his weathered face, watching as a glimmer of hope ignited in his clouded

Funke with a sense of desperation, not expecting much. When Dr. Funke had first examined Lysander, she had prepared herself for

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now, Dr. Funke's words offered the best possible outcome, and her

drinks them. Talk to him regularly, and move his limbs to maintain muscle memory. In two months,

sea of

a stranger, an unknown variable. He longed for Lysander's recovery but struggled to place his trust in the promises of a man he

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