CHAPTER 47: CHAPTER 47: HE WILL NEVER KNOW

Until they had ventured deep into the dense forest and confirmed that even if those people were to catch up, they wouldn’t be able to find them quickly, Ann Vaughn finally put Cyrus Hawthorne down.

Her cramped arms were already trembling from the pain, making it unbearable to even attempt to pick up the Golden Needle.

Ann Vaughn panted, licking her dry lips, and sat casually on the ground, waiting for her arms to recover.

She turned her head to look at Cyrus Hawthorne beside her, and a faint smile involuntarily appeared at the corner of her lips.

She had protected him again, how wonderful.

Before she knew Cyrus Hawthorne was the person she had been waiting for all along, due to this marriage being undesired by both parties, he was indifferent to her, and she didn’t pay much attention to him either.

Describing them as being respectful yet distant would still be courteous.

Ann Vaughn never imagined the possibility that Cyrus Hawthorne was indeed the one she had been waiting for, but the crescent-shaped scar on his waist clearly told her that he was.

Even though he had long forgotten her, even though he had fallen in love with Cynthia Vaughn, even though...

She would hide her feelings well, never, ever letting him know that Ann Vaughn liked him.

The cramps in her arms gradually eased, Ann Vaughn raised her hand, tracing the excessively handsome features of Cyrus Hawthorne’s face in the air, her bright eyes filled with satisfied smiles.

At that moment, a slight rustling sound came from behind, Ann Vaughn immediately became alert and supported Cyrus Hawthorne as they continued moving forward.

"Will these people never stop? If only I had more than just one pack of anesthetic powder, I’d certainly show them!"

The only sight Cyrus Hawthorne had was Ann Vaughn’s vivid appearance as she bit her lip and spoke angrily and sulkily, with a look of resignation yet full of determination.

Like a silly hamster with its mouth stuffed with food.

His lips curled slightly imperceptibly, and even the pain brought by old ailments was temporarily forgotten.

Half an hour later.

Ann Vaughn used the surrounding dense shrubs to create a simple shelter and let Cyrus Hawthorne lie on a pile of leaves, then she unbuttoned his shirt.

She stared at the wound on him for a long while, a hint of struggle flashed in her bright eyes, but eventually only determination remained.

"Grandpa, Annie once promised you that she wouldn’t use this needle technique, but Annie believes you would understand the reasons why she must."

With that said, she cast aside her thoughts and focused solely on piercing the Golden Needle into Cyrus Hawthorne’s chest.

Cyrus Hawthorne heard her low, murmured words clearly; he furrowed his brows and then opened his eyes, seeing Ann Vaughn’s attentive and exquisite profile.

The attempt to stop her, already on the tip of his tongue, inexplicably halted.

However, with Ann Vaughn’s actions, the pain that had once felt like his bones being crushed due to old afflictions every month began to gradually ease, and his cold limbs also started to warm up.

A hint of amazement instantly rose in Cyrus Hawthorne’s eyes.

Ann Vaughn’s complexion had also turned extremely pale due to this intricate needle technique, appearing ghastly.

She steadied her fingers as she withdrew every Golden Needle, then pulled out a packet of medicine from her sleeve and evenly sprinkled it on Cyrus Hawthorne’s wound.

As soon as she had finished everything, she saw that Cyrus Hawthorne had somehow opened his eyes, his gaze exploring her intently without blinking.

The tension Ann Vaughn had been feeling eased a bit as she showed a light-hearted smile, "You’re awake."

She said, while digging into her sleeve, pulling out a small bottle of potion and bringing it to his lips, "Drink this first, it will help with your injuries."

If it were the past, Cyrus Hawthorne certainly wouldn’t have believed her words, suspecting she had ulterior motives.