Mr. Turner Sr. studied his grandson’s handsome face. “You seem to be in a good mood.”
Warner’s fingers paused. “Am I?”
Mr. Turner Sr. picked up his teacup. “Your security was completely bypassed, and you’re smiling. If that’s not a good mood, what is? You rascal!”
Warner knew his grandfather was still upset about him not taking his health seriously. He poured another cup of tea. “Grandfather, David must have told you about my recent physical condition and… some of the people I’ve met.”
Mr. Turner Sr. looked at the ceiling, feigning ignorance. “David is your bodyguard. Why would he tell me such details?”
“You’re right, Grandfather,” Warner said with a hint of laughter in his voice.
Mr. Turner Sr. was tired of playing games with his grandson.
The Turners were all straightforward people, except for this one. He was a sly one.
“Alright, fine, just tell me! Which one of the attendees today is this ‘Cure-Master’ that David was talking about?” Mr. Turner Sr. wanted to speak with them personally, to thank them.
He knew that countless renowned doctors, both at home and abroad, had diagnosed his grandson and declared he wouldn’t live past twenty-seven.
But at the very least, the boy’s appetite had improved recently, and for the Turner family, that was the best news in the world.
Warner was evasive. “You’ll have to guess, Grandfather.”
Mr. Turner Sr. actually pulled out the guest list he’d been keeping. “Could it be this young doctor from the Lopez family? His skills aren’t that impressive. What about this one from the Woods family?”
Mr. Turner Sr. went through nearly all the younger generation of doctors, never once considering Rosalind.
“It couldn’t possibly be that interesting young girl I met,” Mr. Turner Sr. said, leaning on his cane and shaking his head. “No, definitely not! You, you rascal, you have a severe physical aversion to any girl who gets close to you, besides family!”

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