Xavier, upon hearing the words, finally heaved a sigh of relief.
"That's good then. I was worried the young master might be in danger."
He nodded his head, politely saying, "Thank you, Dr. Deanna."
Deanna stood by, frowning as she stared at Lance covered in silver needles, waiting to remove them.
The treatment took longer than she had anticipated.
By the time it was over, an hour had passed.
After such concentrated effort, Deanna felt a sudden wave of fatigue as she finished removing the needles.
Her head spun slightly, and her form staggered, almost collapsing to the floor.
Lance, who was standing and buttoning up his shirt, caught a glimpse of her falling with a corner of his eye and quickly reached out to support her, letting her lean entirely against him.
In a bout of dizziness, Deanna suddenly found herself in the warm embrace of someone.
Broad and strong, it gave her a sense of security.
In her groggy state, she heard a clear, refreshing voice at her ear.
"Are you alright?"
She recognized it as Lance's voice.
Deanna collected herself, her vision finally becoming clear.
"I'm fine," she said.
Realizing it was improper to be in a man's arms, she tried to get up with great effort.
A wave of dizziness struck her and she uncomfortably shook her head.
Lance frowned; she obviously didn't seem fine.
It was late, and letting her leave in this state could lead to complications.
"Rest here for a while. You can leave once you're feeling better," he immediately said.
Without waiting for a response, he picked her up.
He frowned again, wondering why she was so light.
As he shifted his balance, she exclaimed, "Your body still hasn't recovered, don't move around!"
She looked anxiously into his deep eyes, worried about aggravating his injuries.
It struck him as odd that she was still concerned about him given her state.
Lance raised an eyebrow and reassured her, "Holding you is easy for me. Besides, you don't want Chloe to worry, do you?"
To him, her slight weight was hardly noticeable.
Her body was soft in his arms, surprisingly pleasant to hold.
Because they were so close, the scent of her hair mixed with medicine wafted into him.
The phrase "fragrant soft jade" suddenly came to his mind, causing Lance to be momentarily distracted.
When Deanna looked over and saw Chloe asleep at the side table, she didn't have the heart to wake her up and resignedly closed her mouth.
Surrounded in his embrace, all she could smell was his scent.
She still felt a bit embarrassed, not daring to meet his eyes.
Carrying her, Lance left the room and placed her on the guest room's bed.
The bed was soft and comfortable, and Deanna felt a wave of sleepiness take over.
She yawned, planning to nap for a bit before heading back with Chloe.
She slowly drifted off to sleep, and when she woke again, it was already early morning.
Deanna woke up somewhat disoriented in the utter silence.
Instinctively, she reached next to her and realizing this wasn't her room, she quickly sat up.
By the moonlight, she saw Chloe sleeping soundly beside her.
Lance must have carried her over.
Sighing, she thought to look for her phone.
It was so late; she needed to send a message to her grandmother and Gregory, or they would be worried.
After searching the room without success, she left and turned on the living room lights.
There, she ran into Lance, who had also woken up to get some water.
Their meeting was momentarily awkward.
She hadn't forgotten that he was the one who had carried her back to the room.
Spending the night in another man's house, being carried into a room, was certainly embarrassing enough.
Lance spoke first, "Dr. Deanna, are you alright?"
Now feeling better after sleeping, she coughed awkwardly and replied, "I'm fine now."
Remembering her initial concern, she asked, "Mr. Mercer, have you seen my phone?"
With a worried expression, she thought about how concerned her family must be not seeing her and Chloe for so long.
Lance understood her worries.
"Your family called earlier, and I explained today's events. It's very late; you might as well stay here tonight," he said with a voice as majestic as a Phoenix's call.
Subconsciously she glanced at the clock; it was past three a. m.
Feeling a bit embarrassed and helpless, she accepted the reality.
"Okay, thank you Mr. Mercer, for letting me stay the night," she said with a blink and a whimsical, spirited smile.
"It's no problem," responded Lance.
Considering his health, she looked him over carefully.
He seemed to be in good spirits.
With some urgency, she walked over and took his wrist, checking his pulse.
Lance was momentarily taken aback but did not resist, just watching her quietly.
She was serious, her expression solemn.
Nodding her head, she found his pulse better than she expected.
Then, letting go, she met his gaze.
Seeing him staring intently at her, she paused in surprise and asked, "Mr. Mercer, what is it?"
Lance came to his senses and coughed lightly, "It's nothing, Dr. Deanna. Get some rest."
He was slightly annoyed at himself for being spellbound by her.
With that, he turned and left.
Deanna nodded and remained standing where she was.
She felt, in that moment, his gaze had an indescribable charm.
With a chuckle, she thought she must be ill; otherwise, how could she feel this way?