Master of Medicine The Saintly Healer

Chapter 123

Shane was just racking his brains to come up with an excuse to dismiss Rachel, then this opportunity came along.

He turned to Matthew. “Are you sure that I’m going to recover right away after the treatment?”

Matthew nodded. “I’m certain. You’ll be back to normal after 30 minutes.”

Jeffrey sneered. Traditional medicine was known for its delayed–onset 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

o am.”

Rachel could no longer stay quiet. Brewing herbs was mandatory in traditional medicine, and this process alone usually took half an hour. Jeffrey was being unreasonable.

She couldn’t help but interject, “Shouldn’t you start the clock 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 30 minutes on this. If you’re incapable, just forget it.”

Knowing that her attempt to stall more time 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 have to! 30 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 had initially thought there was a 1% chance for him to be cured, but now he’d lost all hope. Now, he was just intrigued to find out what kind of farce Matthew would perform. Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

A sneer spread across Jeffrey’s face. Even the best doctor couldn’t treat an illness without any medicine. At this point, he was just anticipating Matthew’s failure with his arms crossed.

Matthew was aware of their reactions, but he was unfazed.

“Get me a pot and boil some water in it. 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 threw Rachel off.

“Matthew, a–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 held back. She didn’t want to embarrass him, after all.

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

With that, he called in his secretary and relayed the instructions. Ten minutes later, a janitor appeared with a bag of decayed leaves and an electronic pot.

Matthew began boiling water in the pot. 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 was going to handle the situation afterward.

Jeffrey was staring at Matthew as if he were an idiot. He couldn’t help but remark, “Traditional medicine isn’t just feudally superstitious, but it’s also incredulously stupid. Brewing medicine with rotten leaves–you’re going to kill him instead of healing him!”

Shane looked as if someone had punched the living daylights out of 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 you to

rink.”

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

“Exactly.” Matthew smiled. “You’ll be healed after you

hale it for 15 minutes”

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