It was unfortunate that Abigail couldn't practice acupuncture. Otherwise, why would she need massages?
"Remember Alice gave you that book? You can look through it and maybe find a traditional medicine practitioner. It could speed up the process."
Abigail recalled the book contained information on acupuncture points.
Skilled traditional medicine practitioners could achieve a lot through acupuncture.
"I'll check it out when we get back. We have to fight hard for our lives." Martin sighed.
Abigail couldn't help but smile.
By the fourth day of Martin's treatment, Abigail could see light again, though her right eye still had a cloudy layer, as if something was stuck on the eyeball, making it uncomfortable.
Fortunately, this sensation didn't last long, and she fully recovered within a week.
And so, her journey of dedication began.
Every day, she brewed medicine, fed it to Sage, and gave her massages.
Abigail had to walk a considerable distance each day from the kitchen to Sage's room, with a bodyguard stationed every few meters along the way in the spacious corridor.
It was very stressful.
While brewing the medicine, Abigail felt conflicted about how to get this group of people to show some expression...otherwise, the pressure would be too much.
She was staring at the jar when she suddenly sensed someone watching her.
Abigail turned to look and saw Simond leaning against the kitchen door, watching her.
It was rare for him to cross paths with her. In fact, she could count on one hand the number of times she'd seen him clearly in a week.
At this moment, Simond's demeanor was completely different from when he was on the ship. He had no smile, no emotion, like a robot.
After staring at her for a while, he was about to turn and leave.
"Wait," she called out to him.
Simond stopped in his tracks and looked at her. "What's the matter?" His tone was icy.
Abigail thought to herself, This person is quite good at playing two different roles. It's really a shame he didn't pursue a career in the entertainment industry.
"The ingredients in your kitchen are not sufficient to treat Sage," Abigail stated bluntly.
"With Martin present, you are merely assisting; do not interfere," Simond warned her coldly.
Abigail approached Simond. She was unafraid of his wolf-like demeanor. "Are you speaking to a food therapy expert? Do you truly comprehend traditional medicine or food therapy?"
Simond was momentarily unable to respond, as if his brain had malfunctioned.
"You see, you cannot answer." Abigail shrugged. "Sean Graham was on the brink of death once, and I cooked for him daily to nourish him. What is the fundamental principle for a person to recover? It's to eat well. Without proper nutrition, how can one recover?"
Simond regarded her calmly. "You are very cunning, I know."
"Cunning does not mean I desire death, right? Do you think one month is a long time? In traditional medicine, one month is nothing. Sean underwent two years of treatment to fully recover," Abigail continued.
Simond quickly flipped through it and found it quite complicated. He immediately stopped reading. "The first one is enough to kill you with tricks."
She approached him and gazed into his eyes. "Simond, what are you pretending for?"
Simond took two steps back. "Don't wander around here."
"You're quite the actor," Abigail teased. "Hurry up and go buy them. Don't delay my survival."
Simond delegated the task to a professional chef to purchase the ingredients.
When he visited Sage, he specifically glanced at the room where Abigail was.
Abigail was engrossed in bidding and appeared quite relaxed.
He felt reassured and left without looking back.
Before lunch, the kitchen was filled with a peculiar and enticing aroma that wafted through the corridor.
The bodyguards standing on both sides remained focused, but their throats were moving up and down... What kind of food could produce such a fragrant aroma?
In the kitchen, Abigail couldn't resist and had a bowl of soup from a clay pot.
Reflecting on the few months she had spent with Alice, she realized her research on food therapy was unique and even surpassed national boundaries.
Abigail also knew that Simond originally hailed from Eswadia, so indeed, he understood the culinary prowess of Eswadian cuisine.
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