Chapter 5 I Found a Cure for Insomnia
Matilda froze for a moment.
"Hold still, you've got something on your mouth."
Matilda stayed still.
After wiping it off, Wentworth tossed the tissue into the trash can.
Matilda asked, "What was it?"
"Nothing much, just keep eating."
"Oh..." Matilda thought to herself: 'Could this be his move?'
...
After Matilda left for work, Wentworth also came downstairs.
Soon, a black stretch business car pulled up in front of the apartment building.
The driver got out, opened the car door for Wentworth, and said, "Mr. Wentworth Gonzaga, please get in."
"Bob, don't call me Mr. Wentworth Gonzaga when we're out. I'm a soldier, I'm not used to being addressed like that," Wentworth said.
"Yes, Mr. Wentworth Gonzaga."
Wentworth fell silent.
"Mr. Wentworth Gonzaga, Mr. Charles Gonzaga is waiting for you in the car."
Wentworth got into the back seat and greeted the man inside: "Charles."
The man inside was Charles Gonzaga, 35 years old, a famous tycoon in Phoenix City. He wore a black custom-made suit and sunglasses, his whole demeanor refined and aloof.
Seeing Wentworth, Charles said reproachfully, "Why didn't you tell me you were back in Phoenix City?"
"I came back for something."
"What is it?"
"A major life event."
Charles smiled faintly. "Besides messing around with your weapons and tactics, what major life event could you possibly have? Unless you got a girlfriend?"
Wentworth's mouth moved, about to speak.
Charles immediately continued, "That's impossible. I haven't even had a girlfriend, so how could you have one? You'll definitely get married later than me. You'll be lucky to find a wife by 40!"
Wentworth said nothing more.
Half an hour later, the car stopped at Concordia Saint Medical Center.
This hospital was Phoenix City's largest private hospital, owned by the Gonzaga Group. Its doctors came from all over the world, and it had advanced medical equipment and technology.
Charles led Wentworth to the top floor via a private elevator.
As they stepped out, more than a dozen doctors were waiting at the door.
"Good morning, Mr. Charles Gonzaga!"
"Good morning, Mr. Wentworth Gonzaga!"
Then, a male doctor around 50 years old stepped forward, walked up to Wentworth with a smile, "Commander Gonzaga, come with me!"
Wentworth quickly said, "Don't call me that. Nobody uses that title anymore these days."
"Your grandfather was such a legendary figure. Calling you Commander isn't wrong. Everyone in Phoenix City knows your family's status in the military," said Dr. Dwight Rivera.
They led Wentworth to an examination room. Once Wentworth was lying down, they quickly hooked him up to various medical instruments, checking his ECG, drawing blood, taking X-rays, and so on.
After the examination, Dwight came back in. "Commander Gonzaga, I need to look at the wound on your leg."
"Okay."
Wentworth took off his pants for Dwight to examine.
Dwight looked and frowned. "You had this wound treated at a community hospital, didn't you? I've told you so many times—if you're injured, you must come to our hospital. Those regular hospitals don't have proper equipment."
"It's not too bad, is it?" Wentworth said. "A female doctor treated it. I thought her technique was pretty good. It didn't hurt at all when she was working on it."
"Her technique is decent, but their medicine is too basic. They don't have our special medications and equipment."
After saying this, Dwight applied a light therapy device to Wentworth and re-treated his wound.
By the time the wound was treated, Wentworth's test results had also come out.
Charles came in at this point.
Charles asked, "Dr. Rivera, how's my brother's health?"
Dwight looked through the reports one by one. "No other problems with his body. All indicators are normal. It's just that his cardiovascular system was affected by that poisoning incident, which may cause sleep issues. Commander Gonzaga, how has your sleep been lately?"
Wentworth paused.
Six months ago, while on a mission abroad, he was ambushed by a group of insurgents. When he and his comrades broke through, an insurgent threw a gas bomb at them.
The gas bomb contained alkaloid drugs. Fortunately, he only inhaled a tiny amount.
But even that tiny amount caused him long-term insomnia. He couldn't sleep well.
Until two months ago, when he came back on leave and met Matilda.
From the moment his body made contact with Matilda's, he felt at ease and sleepy. Later, lying beside her, he slept soundly through the night.
And yesterday too—after going to Matilda's place to change his bandage in the morning, he came home and took a good nap at noon. Last night was the same.
Wentworth said to Dwight, "My sleep is still bad, but I think I've found a cure."
"What cure?" Both Charles and Dwight looked excited.
Especially Dwight, who said excitedly, "Commander Gonzaga, there's currently no cure for this Neurodelirium Alkaloid internationally. If you've found one, it would be a major medical discovery that could shake up the medical community worldwide!"
Wentworth paused, then said, "What I mean by cure is a woman... Every time I'm with her, I can sleep well. So I want to marry her."
Charles fell silent.
Dwight fell silent.
...
From leaving Concordia Saint Medical Center to getting back in the car, Charles kept a dark expression.
"Wentworth, the major life event you mentioned when you came—is it getting married?"
"That's right," Wentworth said.
"You've been obsessed with the military since childhood and rarely interact with women. Do you understand women?" Charles asked.
Wentworth shook his head. "Not as well as you do."
"Fine, then I'll give you a chance to understand women!"
Charles said coldly to the driver, "Bob, have my assistant leak to the press that I'm going to a new product launch this afternoon."
Bob immediately did so.
Charles turned to Wentworth. "Come with me this afternoon. I'll show you what women are really like."
Wentworth didn't respond.
...
Harmony Health Center.
After finishing the morning meeting, Matilda was about to head to the treatment room.
The pain management department leaned toward traditional Chinese medicine, mainly dealing with various rheumatic pain, joint pain, sports injuries, and some external trauma.
Matilda specialized in needle-knife minimally invasive surgery, acupuncture, and massage. She'd been hoping to perform surgeries on patients in the treatment room, as it would help improve her medical skills.
However, just as she was about to turn around, Director Wesley Cox stopped her.
"Dr. Spencer, you're still on clinic duty today."
Matilda frowned. "Why? Wasn't I not scheduled for the clinic today?"
Wesley was a middle-aged man in his forties. He sighed. "Dr. Spencer, you know that whenever you're on duty, we get fifty percent more patients than usual. Now that all departments in our hospital are self-financing, for the sake of the department's performance, I have to trouble you."
"But I have several surgeries scheduled today." Matilda really didn't want to be stuck in the clinic all the time.
"The surgeries can be handled by Dr. Barnes."
Wesley glanced at Irene Barnes nearby.
Irene was about the same age as Matilda and had joined the hospital at the same time. They were competitors and their relationship had never been good.
Plus, Irene was close with Adalyn.
Irene walked up to Matilda smugly and said quietly, "Dr. Spencer, who told you to be so popular with patients? If you don't work the clinic, who will? Do your best and try to become our hospital's star doctor. Who knows, maybe you'll find Mr. Right among them, so you won't have to chase after Dr. Morris from surgery."
Matilda's face turned cold. "I'm chasing him?"
"I heard you rear-ended his car yesterday afternoon on purpose, didn't you? Addie was so mad."
Matilda let out a scoff. She shoved the patient files she'd organized into Irene's hands and said, "You'd better hurry up and do those surgeries. The clinic doesn't need you anyway. Every time you're on duty, hardly any patients book appointments with you. I'm embarrassed for you."
"You..."
Irene was about to lose her temper, but Matilda had already turned and headed to the clinic.