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.

And now, out of the blue, this man

steady eye. "As long as the family follows my treatment plan, I assure you he'll wake up within

"How..."

"How do we cooperate?"

was about to ask when Zephyr's impatient words cut

at Zephyr in surprise, seeing the mix of restraint and excitement on his weathered face, watching as a glimmer of hope ignited

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

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

needles, and I'll prescribe some herbal concoctions. You will need to steep the herbal concoctions and ensure he drinks them. Talk to him regularly, and move his limbs to maintain muscle memory. In two months,

expression was a turbulent sea of excitement, conflict, and lingering

was still 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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