Eldritch Horror Theatre

"What worked?"

Facing the excited Mister Winslow, Fu Qian gestured to the seat beside him, signaling the man to take his time.

"It's just—"

Outstanding medical skill was a multidimensional art, and Fu Qian's unwavering calm successfully rubbed off on the patient's family.

Taking a deep breath, Mister Winslow quickly calmed down and swallowed the rest of his sentence.

"After the initial treatment just now, my daughter's illness looks much better. Doctor, would it be convenient for you to take another look right now?"

By placing heavy emphasis on the word illness, Mister Winslow made his request perfectly unassailable—at least to Nathalie, who was hiding behind the door.

Fu Qian naturally knew she hadn't left. He also knew that before bringing in the food earlier, she had stood there watching them in that exact same posture for quite a while.

Of course, Mister Winslow was completely unaware that a vengeful spirit was spying on them.

Under the man's unusually bright and expectant gaze, Fu Qian stood up, agreeing to cut his break short.

...

"Thank you so much, Doctor!"

They returned the way they came, moving even faster than before. The moment the door opened, Mrs. Winslow, who had been studying her daughter by the bedside, rushed over to greet him, casting aside her usual poise.

"When did this start?"

Fu Qian gave a slight nod, but he didn't rush to celebrate. Instead, he looked Jane up and down.

He couldn't blame the parents for their excitement. The eyes on the young woman's face had completely returned to their normal proportions, restoring her as an elegant and beautiful noble lady.

In fact, Jane was just as thrilled. She stared back at him with bright eyes, while her hand—tucked behind her back—kept a tight grip on the small mirror from earlier, pressing it face-down against the bed in her reluctance to let it go.

"It's been a little while now. When I came back just now, she already looked like this."

Mrs. Winslow clearly didn't mind the doctor's strictness in the slightest, recalling the timeline very seriously.

So after sending me off earlier, neither parent kept an eye on the patient, and both slipped away?

Fu Qian frowned slightly. This wasn't very consistent with their earlier display of deep concern.

"I'm not too sure either... I didn't notice until Mother pointed it out."

Noticing that Fu Qian had spotted the mirror in her hand, Jane seemed a little embarrassed.

The contrast was rather stark. Not long ago, she had looked like she wanted to hide every reflective surface in the room.

"Say a few more words."

However, Fu Qian didn't let her off the hook. He took the seat Mrs. Winslow had just vacated.

"Say what?"

Jane was clearly grateful that he hadn't pointed the mirror out, but his sudden request left her bewildered.

"Anything will do."

Fu Qian appeared extremely easygoing.

"...Thank you for your help. If there is anything you need me to do, please just ask."

Sensing that he wasn't joking, Jane hesitated for a moment before choosing to thank him again, her tone as sincere as ever.

This time, however, her parents did not share her sentiment.

"Doctor... her voice..."

As Mrs. Winslow stared straight at her daughter, her joyful expression stiffened once again.

"It's normal. Open your mouth."

Fu Qian casually reassured them instead, gesturing to the patient.

"My voice..."

Jane herself finally realized something was wrong. Her breathing grew a bit heavy, but she still obediently opened her mouth.

Very healthy. There wasn't even the slightest bit of redness or swelling.

Fu Qian took a genuine look and reached a conclusion.

Except that she was regressing.

After some consideration, he decided this word was the most accurate way to describe the current situation.

The reason the Winslows had frozen was simple: Jane's voice was far too crisp and melodious. It had even begun to sound too young for her age.

Although family members who spent all their time together might not easily notice subtle changes, the regression became obvious once she spoke a few more sentences at Fu Qian's request.

As for why Fu Qian had made Jane do this?

The very first moment he saw her, he realized that while the patient's eyes had recovered, her body was undergoing subtle changes.

Specifically, just like her vocal cords, her entire being was returning to a more primitive state.

This fair young lady seemed to be slowly yet resolutely marching backward toward becoming a fertilized egg.

"Doctor, is this..."

Mister Winslow was clearly the fastest to adjust mentally. He didn't try to find excuses to comfort himself; instead, he immediately sought to confirm the cause, quickly arriving at a possibility.

"Is it a side effect of that Bell? The price of the treatment?"

"Do you family members ever listen to me? How many times have I said that I was just examining her earlier, and the results aren't even out yet."

Fu Qian glanced at him, showing his displeasure at this disregard for a doctor's words.

"Then what is this..."

This explanation obviously couldn't satisfy Mister Winslow.

Accepting that ringing the Handbell had cured his daughter had already consumed a massive amount of his mental fortitude.

Because if a method that so clearly carried Transcendent elements actually worked, it would definitively prove that whatever was happening to his daughter was no simple illness.

That was absolutely not good news. But if the matter could end right there, it would still be acceptable.

However, if they confirmed this wasn't an ordinary disease and yet failed to resolve it, that would be the worst possible scenario.

Of course, deep down—though he refused to acknowledge it—this was the most likely scenario.

"Everything is subject to the test results."

Unfortunately, in response to his question, Fu Qian once again repeated his standard medical answer and turned his head to look at a desk clock nearby.

Some things simply couldn't stand up to comparison. He had originally thought Brother Brain Fork's clock was quite exquisite, but placed next to this one, it looked like a dollar-store bargain.

"Time's up."

Five seconds later, Fu Qian nodded and looked Miss Winslow up and down again.

"Everything is normal."

...

This conclusion, delivered after half an hour of waiting, coupled with the patient's already normalized eyes, theoretically amounted to an optimistic diagnosis.

However, the family of three merely exchanged blank looks. Mister Winslow's already thin, dark face visibly dimmed a few shades further.

"Doctor, are you sure?"

Seeing Fu Qian actually start packing his things into his Medical Visit Box, he finally spoke up to stop him.

"Do you want to run another check? I'm worried there might be something you overlooked."

"Oh?"

Faced with this proactive request for excessive medical treatment, Fu Qian gave him a bewildered look and asked for confirmation.

"Are you sure? Please trust my professional ethics; I will keep the patient's information strictly confidential."

"I'm sure. In all of Laerdin, there is no one more suitable than you."

Fu Qian's final promise caused Mister Winslow's face to twitch, but he continued firmly.

"Very well then."

Glancing at the other two and sensing the family's unified agreement on the matter, Fu Qian finally stopped what he was doing.

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