After a period of examination, Peter’s expression gradually became solemn.
“Is the situation bad?” Jiang Ziyu asked nervously.
If his leg couldn’t be healed, wouldn’t he be even less willing to offer assistance?
Peter glanced back at her. “It’s not that there’s no way, it’s just…”
“Just what? He has money; no matter how much it costs, it’s fine as long as he can be cured,” Jiang Ziyu said quickly. If it couldn’t be healed, a prosthetic leg would be acceptable. She dared not voice this latter thought.
Peter suddenly chuckled, a hint of curiosity in his tone. “You care about him a lot?”
As the question was posed, Jiang Ziyu’s face flushed. He vehemently retorted, “How could I!”
The words fell, and she immediately felt something was amiss. Her tongue swirled in her mouth, and she hastily explained, “That’s not what I meant. I’m concerned about his health. If even a doctor as skilled as you cannot treat him, then others would surely have even less hope? Will he have to spend his entire life in a wheelchair then?”
With this statement, Peter’s laughter grew more pronounced, while Di Mingjue’s face contorted as if he had eaten something foul.
What was going on? Why did she always say the wrong thing!
Jiang Ziyu patted her forehead with a look of dejection, then resolutely pressed on, “Is there truly no possibility of treatment?”
“No,” Peter shook his head, resuming a serious demeanor. “It might require surgery.”
“That’s it?” Jiang Ziyu breathed a sigh of relief. She had anticipated this possibility after treating Di Mingjue with acupuncture for a period.
Initially, she thought it was due to prolonged bed rest leading to nerve degeneration, but later she suspected the car accident might have injured his bones.
However, doctors in the country were overly cautious and dared not make any judgments about his condition.
Peter glanced at Di Mingjue. “Mr. Di, if you trust my medical skills and are willing to undergo surgery, the procedure can be performed at the end of this month.”
Jiang Ziyu looked at Di Mingjue with concern. His heart was as unfathomable as the sea; she could not discern his thoughts.
“Is there a risk?” Di Mingjue asked.
“It’s difficult to say. Regardless of the type of surgery, there will always be some inherent risks. There might also be post-operative complications; these are factors beyond a doctor’s control,” Peter answered his question honestly.
Was he afraid?
Jiang Ziyu anxiously observed him.
After a long silence, Di Mingjue asked again, “What’s the worst-case scenario?”
“He’ll never recover,” Peter stated.
Never recover?
It didn't seem so bad. He couldn’t move now, confined to a wheelchair.
“Alright,” Di Mingjue said, agreeing. “I will cooperate with your treatment.”
Receiving his consent, Jiang Ziyu finally relaxed. She gestured to the waiter to serve the dishes.
Di Mingjue’s hostility towards Peter lessened. During their casual conversation, they discovered a shared interest.
Peter had always yearned for life in China. When he learned Jiang Ziyu was returning to develop her career there, he had even wanted to accompany her. However, medical commitments at the time prevented him from doing so.
During this period, he frequently participated in medical symposiums in China, and many hospitals had offered him lucrative positions.
“You seemed quite surprised when we were discussing our relationship earlier?” Di Mingjue deliberately asked with feigned curiosity while Jiang Ziyu was in the restroom.
“Ziyu didn’t tell you?” Peter countered smartly. He observed Di Mingjue’s reaction, smiling calmly. “If she hasn’t told you, then I cannot tell you either. After all, it’s her privacy, and I have no right to disclose her private affairs to anyone.”
“I am her husband. I have the right to know about her past,” Di Mingjue asserted his status to pressure him.
But Peter was unconcerned. He shook his head, watching Jiang Ziyu walk towards them. “Since you are husband and wife, why don’t you sit down and have a good talk? If she is willing, she will tell you.”