Olivia glanced at me. The last time we were at the hospital, she had seen that I was a fairly pretty young woman, but perhaps she had not expected me to appear here looking like this.
I did not pay too much attention to her gaze. From the moment I stepped into the Richart house, I could already feel the tense atmosphere in the room.
Just then, Jason wheeled himself out of the room.
"Edgar, this is Dr. Bailey, the one we mentioned last time," Olivia said, her voice extremely excited.
Jason must have heard us talking while he was still inside the room. But I guessed he had not expected that Dr. Bailey to be Captian's wife, much less that Captian would follow me all the way here.
Not only that, Jason and I had actually met before at Phuc Man Giang Son. Back then, even Halley had spoken up for me.
Jason looked at me briefly, then quickly shifted his gaze to Captian. He raised an eyebrow slightly, his voice cold and indifferent.
"Mr. Captian, I didn't expect you to come."
The man sitting in the wheelchair had a gentle, mild-looking face, but his eyes were cold and distant. His handsome appearance carried an aura that made him difficult to approach.
Captian stood beside me, staring at Jason without the slightest emotion, and said nothing.
The atmosphere in the living room changed at once.
It was not only Captian who radiated coldness. Jason was not weaker in the slightest. The two men looked into each other's eyes, as if invisible sparks were crackling in the air.
Their presence made me shiver. I only wanted to silently curl myself up to feel less cold.
Just then, Mrs. Jamaica Richart lightly tapped her cane against the floor.
"Enough. Mr. Captian, could you allow Dr. Bailey to examine Edgar's legs first?"
She had lived more than half a lifetime and weathered countless storms. As expected, her composure was much steadier than that of us younger people.
With that tap, the coldness in the living room immediately dissipated somewhat.
Captian slowly moved his gaze away from Jason, then suddenly looked at me. There was not the slightest ripple in his eyes, yet they were so deep they made it hard to breathe.
Being stared at by him like that, I felt immense pressure. I took a deep breath, forced myself to smile, then turned to Jason and immediately regained the seriousness of a doctor.
"Have your legs started to regain sensation?"
Jason looked at me as well. The distance in his eyes had only increased, not lessened, but at least it was not as cold as when he faced Captian.
"Yes," he replied. "They hurt a little."
I was instantly pleased.
"That's a good thing. Since you have sensation now, our treatment plan will need to change slightly. Previously, we were only stimulating and maintaining the basic responses of both legs. Now, the real treatment can begin."
Although Jason had not studied medicine, he clearly understood what I meant. He nodded without speaking. His beautiful lashes lowered slightly, and a trace of expectation rose in his eyes, like starlight suddenly reflected on the surface of a still lake.
I was momentarily stunned, but quickly regained my composure.
"The condition of your legs has lasted for many years, so the treatment process will not be simple."
I paused briefly, then explained more clearly.
"For now, you need to take nerve-recovery medication and muscle-tissue regeneration solution to condition your body. At the same time, I will carry out a neural activation therapy using bioelectric pulses on your legs. In the past, the rehabilitation methods were only meant to maintain blood circulation and prevent muscle atrophy. This time, we will begin the actual treatment. Once a week, continuing for two months. After two months, we will decide on the next stage of treatment based on your examination results."
"Will I be able to stand in two months?"
Jason stared at me. A faint light rose in his usually quiet eyes, like a lake stirred gently by the wind.
I could feel his impatience.
For someone who had been unable to stand for three years, even the slightest thread of hope was enough to make his heart tremble. But precisely because he hoped so much, he was even more afraid that hope would vanish.
"I can't guarantee anything with absolute certainty," I said slowly, "but I can confirm that your condition will be better than it is now."
I was confident, but I still did not dare speak too absolutely. If expectations were raised too high, then if the result was not as hoped, Jason would be the one most disappointed.
Jason frowned. The light in his eyes dimmed slightly, like a beautiful gem covered in dust. But very quickly, he calmed down again.
"If it can be better than now, that's already more than enough. Start the treatment."
I nodded.
I had originally intended to help roll up his trouser legs, but as soon as I tilted my head, I saw Captian still standing there like a large statue.
How would I dare personally roll up the trouser legs of a strange man in front of him? If I did, Captian would definitely kill me with his eyes.
"We'll begin the neural activation treatment first. Can someone help prepare his legs for me?"
As I spoke, I looked toward everyone.
Olivia wanted to step forward to help, but Halley was faster. He carefully rolled up Jason's trouser legs. Each movement was very light and gentle, enough to show how good the relationship between the two brothers was.
Jason seemed somewhat unused to it.
His legs were truly too ugly.
Those thin, withered legs, almost nothing but skin and bone, appeared before everyone's eyes. Olivia and Mrs. Jamaica Richart could no longer bear it. They hurriedly covered their mouths, turned aside, and silently shed tears.
Halley clenched his teeth, his eyes reddening.
Even Captian frowned slightly after seeing those legs that almost no longer looked like a normal person's. But he soon returned to calm.
In the room, I was the only one whose expression did not change.
To me, this was not a frightening sight, but a case that needed to be handled precisely.
I opened the medical equipment case I had brought with me. Inside was a small silver neural activation device, several transparent conductive patches, syringes containing tissue-regeneration solution, and a small touchscreen used to monitor muscle responses.
I put on sterile gloves and calmly said, "Now that sensation has returned to your legs, you may feel pain during the neural activation process. The pain will feel like an electric current running deep through your bones and muscles. If you can't bear it, tell me immediately."
Jason did not speak, but his eyes had already answered for him.
As long as he could stand again, what did a little pain matter?
I saw the determination in his eyes. It was a kind of resolve that made it impossible not to admire him.
I withdrew my gaze and began disinfecting the areas on Jason's legs. Then I attached each bio-conductive patch to the main muscle points and nerves on both his legs. My movements were quick and precise, almost without the slightest hesitation.
When the device was activated, weak neural wave lines immediately appeared on the small screen.
I adjusted the parameters and said seriously, "I'll start at the lowest level. If your body can adapt, I'll gradually increase the intensity."
After saying that, I pressed the start button.
A tiny bioelectric pulse immediately transmitted into Jason's legs.
The muscles that had been silent for many years suddenly twitched slightly.
Olivia immediately covered her mouth, tears spilling out again.
Halley's eyes widened, and he did not dare blink.
Jason gripped the armrests of his wheelchair tightly. The veins on the backs of his hands stood out clearly. Pain from his legs shot straight to his brain. It was not like the vague numbness from before. This time, it was clear and sharp, like every nerve being forcibly awakened after a long sleep.
Pain.
Terrible pain.
But it was real pain.
Pain that proved his legs still had hope.
I stared intently at the screen, continuously adjusting the intensity and frequency of the pulses. My entire focus was on the feedback waves on the screen and Jason's muscle responses.
But even though I was concentrating, I could still feel Captian's gaze.
He was looking at me.
Perhaps he saw my hand placed on Jason's thigh as I checked his muscle response. To an outsider, that movement might have seemed a little too intimate, but to me at that moment, it was only a necessary medical procedure.
Even so, I still felt a chill behind my back.
I did not need to turn around to know that Captian's expression was definitely very unpleasant.
The atmosphere in the living room turned cold again, as if someone had thrown open the door in the middle of a snowy day.
Halley glanced at Captian and immediately shrank his neck back. I could almost guess what he was thinking: this man named Captian was truly terrifying.
However, Olivia and Mrs. Jamaica Richart did not notice at all. Their entire attention was on Jason's legs and my movements. How could they still have the mood to care about Captian's expression?
After an unknown amount of time, I finally turned off the device.
I removed the bio-conductive patches one by one, then used a handheld scanner to check the neural responses in Jason's legs again.
By then, Jason's forehead was covered in sweat. His hands were still gripping the wheelchair armrests tightly, his knuckles pale.
Just now, he had been able to clearly feel the pain in his legs. It was no longer the vague, numbing pain from before, but the sensation of every muscle fiber being stretched and every nerve being awakened. It hurt so much it made a person doubt life itself.
But he endured it.
Even though it was painful, it was a wonderful kind of pain.
A pain full of hope.
I packed up the equipment and looked at Jason with slight surprise. I had thought he would be in so much pain that he would cry out, but unexpectedly, not only had he not shouted, he had barely even frowned.
It had clearly hurt that much.
Sure enough, he was exactly like Captian. Both were men with terrifying willpower.
"I'll prescribe a rehabilitation plan for you."
I took a tablet from my bag. This time, I did not type immediately, but thought very carefully.
Should I use a mild recovery dosage, or something slightly stronger?
Considering that Jason's legs had been weakened for many years, and that his muscle and nerve functions were still incomplete, it was better to start with a mild plan. After his body adapted, we could gradually increase the intensity. We could not rush this.
After thinking it through, I quickly created the treatment plan.
"Take the nerve-recovery medication twice a day, once in the morning and once at night. Combine it with the muscle-tissue regeneration solution according to the dosage I've written here. In addition, you must perform passive muscle activation exercises for thirty minutes every day. Continue this for two months."
I handed the electronic plan to Olivia.
Olivia looked it over and nodded repeatedly. She hugged the tablet to her chest as if holding some priceless treasure, afraid she might lose it if she were careless.
"Dr. Bailey, what kind of results can we expect after two months?"
Olivia asked anxiously. Even Mrs. Jamaica Richart, standing beside her with her cane, could not hide her impatience.
I thought for a moment, then said cautiously, "If his constitution responds well, he may be able to stand on his own for a short period of time. But we still need to see the specific recovery response."
As soon as they heard that he might be able to stand, Olivia and Mrs. Jamaica Richart looked as if they had been struck by joy falling from the sky. For a moment, both of them were dazed with happiness, automatically ignoring the second half of my sentence.
"If he can stand on his own, that would truly be wonderful. Dr. Bailey, our Edgar will be in your hands."
Looking at their excitement, I silently let out a breath.
Hope was something very precious.
But also very heavy.
Once I had given it to someone, I had to do everything I could not to disappoint them.