Liza’s cheeks flushed, and the tips of her ears turned red. Trying to mask her embarrassment, she forced a bright smile. “President Gavin, you’re overthinking. I’m just here to treat your illness.” Gavin let out a low chuckle, his gaze dropping lazily. “Mrs. Liza, there’s no need.” Her expression darkened immediately. “Gavin, your blindness at night is because you’ve been poisoned!” Gavin’s face remained calm, his reaction devoid of any surprise. “I’m aware.” Liza stared at him in disbelief. “You… you know? Then why haven’t you…” His eyes turned cold, their usual warmth replaced by a chilling indifference. “This poison is incurable. Acupuncture won’t help.” His gaze flickered briefly to the needles in her hand, his tone resolute. “So there’s no point.” The weight of his words settled over her, leaving her momentarily speechless. Liza could sense the resignation in his voice. It wasn’t just the poison; he had already accepted his fate. His calm demeanor felt alien to her, and for the first time, Gavin seemed like a stranger—detached and unbothered by the prospect of his own suffering. Her chest tightened as she studied his desolate expression. Finally, she broke the silence with a frustrated sigh. Gavin’s gaze shifted back to her, his eyes questioning. Pouting, Liza crossed her arms. “Gavin, we’re married now. If you lose your eyesight, do you know how much trouble that will bring me?” Gavin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Her tone turned playful but insistent, masking the genuine concern underneath. “I’m just a weak woman. If you can’t protect me, who’s going to? You have so many enemies. The moment they find out you’re blind, I’ll be their first target!” For a moment, the air hung heavy between them. Then, Gavin let out a soft sigh and lowered his gaze, his voice tinged with a rare hint of vulnerability. “… Fine. I’ll take off my shirt. Do whatever you want.” Though he doubted her acupuncture would help, Gavin couldn’t bear to see her upset. If letting her try would ease her worries, he’d endure it. Liza moved closer and began unbuttoning his pajamas. The moment his back was exposed, her breath hitched, and her heart clenched painfully. His back was a map of scars—some faint with a ge, others fresh and angry. Long, jagged whip marks intersected with faint traces of old acupuncture. The sight was overwhelming, and Liza’s hands trembled as she took it all in. These scars told a story of pain, of battles fought in silence. Gavin, the man revered as the all-powerful head of the Stone Family, had endured unimaginable suffering. Yet, he carried it all with a stoic grace, hiding this side of himself from the world. Liza forced herself to steady her emotions. She picked up a silver needle and began the delicate process of acupuncture.For the next hour, the room was silent except for the sound of Gavin’s heavy breathing. His forehead was drenched in sweat, and his eyes remained shut, his body tense from enduring the discomfort. Once she was done, Liza carefully packed away the needles. Her voice was soft yet firm as she said, “I’ve been reading medical texts and growing medicinal herbs in the backyard. Starting tomorrow, you’ll need to drink the medicine I prepare for you every day. It won’t cure the poison completely, but it’ll help manage the symptoms.” The herbs she mentioned weren’t ordinary—they were rare and potent, passed down from her grandfather. While they couldn’t completely eradicate the poison, they could suppress its effects and aid in restoring his vision. Gavin had noticed Liza tending to the courtyard before, though he hadn’t thought much of it. Now he understood—she had been cultivating medicinal herbs to treat his condition. With a small nod, he said, “I’ll inform the butler.” Before they could say more, hurried footsteps echoed through the hallway, and the butler burst into the room, his face pale with worry. “Young Madam! There’s trouble!” The man’s voice was laced with urgency as he continued, “Lady Reed and Miss Sophia have arrived. They drove straight into the backyard, and... those herbs you’ve been growing—they’re all…” Liza’s expression remained calm as she neatly placed her acupuncture tools back in their bag. Yet, her fingers lingered on one needle, which she held firmly in her hand. The cold gleam in her eyes was unmistakable. Sophia had dared to destroy the herbs she had painstakingly cultivated? These were rare and precious plants, essential for treating Gavin’s condition. She had spent so much time and care nurturing them, and now they were likely ruined. Her voice was steady but icy as she asked, “Where is Sophia now?” The butler’s hands fidgeted nervously as he explained, “I saw them damaging the herbs, so I sent someone to stop them and came here immediately to inform you. They’re still in the backyard, but... I’m afraid those herbs are beyond saving…” The butler’s breath hitched as he noticed the darkening of Liza’s expression. A chill ran down his spine. “Young Madam, please stay calm,” he urged cautiously. “You can always replant the herbs. Remember, it’s against the law to—” Liza’s eyes narrowed sharply. “Did I say I was planning to kill anyone?” The butler fell silent, though his mind screamed otherwise: Your gaze says you might as well be thinking it. Without another word, Liza handed him the acupuncture bag. “Take care of these. Gavin, get some rest. I’ll handle this.” Before anyone could stop her, Liza turned on her heel and strode out of the room, her steps steady yet purposeful. The butler hurriedly signaled the servants to secure the medical tools before following her to the backyard. Once the room had quieted again, George entered, his expression a mixture of concern and hesitation. “President, you don’t look well. Why didn’t you tell Young Madam the truth?” George’s voice dropped lower, his worry growing evident. “The poison in your body isn’t something ordinary acupuncture can cure. In fact, it might even accelerate the symptoms. Only the divine physician or their descendants know the unique technique that could suppress its effects.” Gavin, now calm and composed, methodically buttoned up his pajamas. “It doesn’t matter,” he replied evenly. “Whether I’m treated or not, the poison will run its course eventually.” “But—” George began, his frustration spilling over. “Don’t let her know,” Gavin interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. He closed his eyes, his voice softening into something almost resigned. “As long as she believes there’s hope, it’s enough. She’ll be happier that way.” Gavin leaned back against the chair, weariness tugging at his features. He knew Liza genuinely cared for him, and the sight of her efforts to help him brought a faint sense of comfort, even if it was fleeting. In his mind, the outcome was already inevitable—his blindness, the poison, everything. But for now, letting her believe she could save him felt like the least he could do.