Weston’s grandmother was slightly taken aback when she saw the stranger. “This is-”
Darnell’s appearance made Weston jump. He clumsily got up from his chair, offering it to Darnell while introducing him to his grandmother.
“Grandmother, this is my boss. I mentioned him to you yesterday. He’s the kind-hearted boss who hired me. My monthly salary is over nine thousand.”
The distinguished old man glanced sideways at Darnell but didn’t recognize him. He dismissively pursed his lips.
“A young kid as a boss? Poor people love to brag.”
Darnell smiled, ignoring the remark, and supported the man’s well-intentioned lie. “Hello, ma’am. I’m Darnell Halford, Weston’s boss.”
“So, you’re Weston’s boss.”
Weston’s grandmother struggled to sit up, shaking Darnell’s hand firmly with gratitude. “You’re truly a good person.”
“Not only did you give Weston a good job, but you also saved me. Young man, thank you so much. Weston, help me up so I can bow to Mr. Halford.”
“No, no, please don’t do that.”
Hearing her intention to bow, Darnell was startled and stood up from his chair.
“It’s just a small gesture. There’s no need to remember it. If you insist on bowing, I’ll have to leave.”
He couldn’t accept such a grand gesture.
The old man sneered again. “Such pretentiousness! Poor people love making a fuss. If this counts as being a boss, then my nephew is an oligarch.”
Weston glanced at the old man and then held his grandmother down gently. “Grandmother, your health isn’t good. Don’t move around too much.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll work hard to repay my boss.”
Hearing these words, his grandmother said, “Weston, you must repay Mr. Halford well. There aren’t many good people like him nowadays.”
He nodded in agreement. “I understand.”
She then urged Darnell to sit down and asked Weston to peel an apple for him before asking, “Young man, what kind of company do you work for?”
Darnell chuckled at her question, guessing that she was worried about her grandson being led astray by a high salary of nine thousand a month. He quickly took out a business card and handed it over.
“I’m the security consultant at Woodsea, overseeing more than three hundred people. Your grandson is one of my newly appointed team leaders.”
The old man snorted, “I thought he was some big boss. Turns out he’s just a head of security-a disgrace!”
“The base salary isn’t high, only about five thousand, but if they perform well each month, there are bonuses and dividends.”
Suppressing his annoyance at the old man, Darnell added softly,
“So our security staff earn at least ten thousand dollars a year.”
“Woodsea? Security consultant?”
Upon hearing the village name, Weston’s grandmother breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s the wealthiest village in Whiteville. I heard each household has two hundred million in savings.”
She looked gratefully at Darnell. “Young man, thank you for giving Weston this opportunity.” Then she turned her gaze to her grandson.
“You need to work hard under Mr. Halford’s guidance. Many people are vying for this job. If you don’t put your heart into it, someone else will take it from you.”
He nodded earnestly. “Don’t worry, Grandmother. I’ll work hard.”
The old man sneered, “He’s just bragging!”
Darnell said with a smile as he extended his hand slightly forward, “I heard from Weston that you have some chronic ailments. Would you mind if I take a look?”
Weston chimed in supportively, “Grandmother, let Mr. Halford take a look. He’s very skilled in medicine.”
Her face darkened slightly.
“Young man, I know you’re kind-hearted, but there’s no need-I’m beyond saving.”
“I know you’re trying to give me hope so I won’t think about taking my own life,
but I’m aware of my condition. There’s no need to waste your effort.”
“You don’t have to worry. I won’t seek death anymore. I’ll live on to see Weston succeed.”
Darnell moved his hand forward another couple of inches.
“Please give me a chance to take a look.”
She hesitated momentarily before reluctantly placing her hand in his.
Darnell quickly took her pulse.
Five minutes later, Darnell spoke decisively,
“Although it’s quite serious, I can still treat it.”
He gave a meaningful glance at Weston, who immediately exclaimed joyfully, “Grandmother’s cancer can be cured? Really?”
The old lady was also taken aback.
“Really? Young man, don’t just say that to make me happy.”
“Why would I lie to you?” Darnell said confidently, “I’ll write you a prescription later. As long as you take your medicine on time every day, your illness will improve.”
Weston looked gratefully at Darnell, though he understood deep down that his grandmother was already in late-stage cancer. No matter how skilled Darnell was, there was little hope for her recovery.
He had just been encouraging his grandmother by saying her cancer could be treated, not wanting her to lose hope and consider ending her life. Seeing Darnell helping him, he felt deeply moved.
At that moment, Darnell grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from the bedside table and quickly wrote down a list of over a dozen medicinal herbs. He handed it to Weston, instructing him to get the herbs for his grandmother to drink.
His grandmother, still in disbelief, asked, “Young man, can my illness really be cured?”
The old man scoffed, “Cure? What a joke! If he could cure cancer, he would be a world-famous figure by now. He’s just trying to cheat you out of your money.”
Before Weston could lash out at the old man, Darnell took his grandmother’s hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry, ma’am. If I say it can be treated, it definitely can.”
“If you don’t believe me, you can test it for a week. If you still feel pain when the illness flares up, then I’ll admit I deceived you.”
“But if you don’t feel any pain, it means I really can heal you.”
Despite the old man’s disdainful expression, Weston’s grandmother nodded repeatedly. “As long as I’m not tormented, I’ll be happy.”
She feared the torment more than death itself.
Weston felt a surge of excitement. He could see Darnell’s confidence and believed he had a way to alleviate his grandmother’s suffering, which made him very happy.
He had previously bought many painkillers to reduce her suffering, but they were ineffective against cancer.
Each episode of pain was agonizing.
Suddenly, the old woman’s face twisted in discomfort. She pressed her left hand tightly against her abdomen while gripping the bedsheet with her right hand, struggling to cope.
Without waiting for Weston to help her, she leaned forward, propping herself up on the bed, curling into a shrimp-like position, and coughed violently.
Her pale face turned a grisly shade of grayish-purple, and soon a thick stream of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, a shocking sight.
This coughing fit was longer and more intense than any before, revealing the unbearable pain etched on her weathered face.
Both Darnell and Weston could see the agony on her face, suffering worse than death itself.
In the old man’s watchful eyes, Weston turned to Darnell and asked, “Mr. Halford, what should we do?”
Without wasting any time, Darnell pulled out a small vial from his pocket and poured a pill the size of a grain of rice into his palm.
It was Cicada Pill.
Darnell handed the pill to Weston. “Give this to your grandmother. It should sustain her for a month.”
Weston quickly administered the pill to his grandmother, and within a minute, her pain vanished, and a hint of color returned to her face.
Both the old lady and Weston were astonished, their trust and gratitude toward Darnell growing even stronger.
The haughty old man gaped in disbelief, unable to comprehend what he had just witnessed.