Chapter 417: Tense Moment

Wendy stepped out of the patient room, ready to head into the operating room for final preparations.

Alexander immediately approached her, his intense gaze fixed on her. "Wendy."

He had so much he wanted to say—ask how she was, if she was okay, explain everything...

But Wendy only gave him a fleeting glance, her eyes distant and cold, as if she were looking at a complete stranger.

"The surgery's about to start. Please wait outside," she said, her voice devoid of any emotion, strictly professional.

Alexander's throat tightened, and all the words he wanted to say got stuck in his chest, turning into a bitter helplessness.

He could only watch as she put on her mask, her beautiful, cold eyes showing no emotion, and turned to walk into the restricted area where the "Surgery in Progress" sign was lit.

Carl observed everything, a glint of sharpness flashing in his cloudy eyes.

He tapped his cane lightly on the ground and said to Alexander in a stern voice, "Alexander, come here."

Alexander walked over to his grandfather.

"Your engagement ceremony with Sophie is about to take place," Carl said, his voice low but authoritative. "Don't let your mind wander at a time like this."

Alexander clenched his fists tightly, his nails almost digging into his palms.

Sophie! It was always Sophie!

He wanted so badly to tell Carl that his parents' deaths were because of the Russell family! How could he possibly marry the daughter of his enemies?

But looking at Carl's aged face and slightly unsteady breath, the words got stuck in his throat.

Carl's health couldn't handle such a shock.

"I understand, Grandpa," Alexander said, lowering his eyes, his voice strained.

The lights in the operating room were as bright as daylight.

Various precise instruments emitted rhythmic beeping sounds.

Wendy stood at the operating table, taking a deep breath.

Even though she had rehearsed countless times and prepared for almost a year, standing here now, her heart still raced uncontrollably.

She could feel beads of sweat forming on her forehead, and a familiar dull pain in her liver area.

The intense mental pressure was taking a toll on her body.

But Wendy gritted her teeth, pushing all discomfort aside.

"Forceps."

"Microscissors."

Her voice was calm and steady, directing her assistant.

The "tooth-bone-mucosa complex" that had been "cultivated" under Chris's cheek for months was carefully extracted, full of new capillaries and vitality.

Wendy's focus was at its peak, her hands steady as a rock.

She held her breath, meticulously sculpting the precious dentin-bone complex to the pre-designed size and curvature.

Then, she carefully embedded a specially made optical lens, the artificial cornea that carried the hope of sight.

Next, she removed the patient's completely clouded, non-functional cornea and lens.

Finally, she carefully implanted the new "artificial cornea complex," supported by teeth and bone, into Chris's right eye.

Suturing and securing.

Every stitch, every thread, carried Wendy's full concentration.

Time ticked by.

When the final stitch was tied, Wendy straightened up and let out a long breath.

Her bangs were soaked with sweat, sticking to her pale skin.

"Surgery is over," she announced softly, her voice hoarse with relief.

Harold nodded approvingly from the side. "Wendy, you did an excellent job!"

The shadowless lamp went out.

Wendy leaned tiredly against the wall, but she couldn't fully relax.

The surgery was successful, but whether Chris could regain his sight and see the world again would only be known after a long month of waiting, when the stitches were removed and observations made.

This month would be a torturous wait for both the Turner family and her.

The operating room door finally opened.

Wendy walked out, looking exhausted, her mask still on, revealing only her cold but weary eyes.

Her bangs were wet with sweat, clinging to her pale skin.

"Dr. Knight!"

Carl was the first to react, hurrying over with the help of his family.

Lucy followed closely, looking at her anxiously, her hands nervously twisted together.

Alexander's heart tightened, his gaze fixed on Wendy's almost translucent pale face.

The fatigue from the high-intensity surgery hit her like a tidal wave, making her steps unsteady, and the familiar dull pain in her liver area returned.

He quickly stepped forward, his voice urgent without him realizing it, "Wendy, are you okay?"

Wendy glanced at him briefly, her eyes passing over the worry in his deep eyes, but her heart remained calm.

She took off her mask, revealing a plain but slightly haggard face, her lips pale.

"The surgery went smoothly," Wendy said, her voice hoarse from the procedure, stating it calmly without any extra emotion.

Lucy burst into tears of joy, her voice choked, "That's wonderful! Thank you, Wendy! Chris..."

Wendy interrupted her, her tone still professional and calm, "It's too early to say."

She looked at the anxious Turner family and continued, "The implanted artificial cornea complex needs to establish new blood flow with the eye tissues and stabilize."

"We'll know the specific recovery of his vision after the stitches are removed in a month."

"This month is a critical recovery period and observation period, and anything can happen."

Alexander's furrowed brows didn't relax at all, his deep eyes bloodshot, "What are the chances he can see?"

Wendy didn't look at him, only addressing the group formally, "We'll do our best with post-operative care and close observation."

"The specifics will only be clear after a month."

With that, she didn't look at any of the Turner family members, only nodding slightly to Harold as a farewell.

Then, she turned and walked towards her office, her steps heavy as if weighed down by lead.

Every step seemed to drain all her strength.

Alexander reached out, wanting to support her or at least say, "Thank you for your hard work."

But his hand froze in mid-air, his fingertips trembling slightly.

He could only watch as her thin, resolute figure disappeared down the hallway.

That figure exuded a coldness that kept people at a distance, but also a fragility that made one's heart ache.

Alexander's heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, sour and bitter, almost too painful to breathe.

She didn't even want to look at him.

Carl sighed heavily, giving Alexander a complex look and shaking his head.

Wendy returned to her office and locked the door behind her.

She leaned weakly against the door, exhaling a long breath as if trying to expel all the pent-up frustration from her chest.

Once her nerves relaxed, every cell in her body screamed with exhaustion and pain.

Wendy walked to the couch in the break room and practically collapsed onto it.

She didn't even have the strength to pour herself a glass of water.

The pain in her liver area was relentless, sharp and piercing, making her curl up, cold sweat quickly forming on her forehead.

Wendy fumbled in her pocket for her painkillers, shakily taking out two pills and swallowing them dry.

The medication would take some time to work.

Just as she closed her eyes to ease the sharp pain, her phone rang, the sound jarring in the quiet office.

Wendy frowned, irritated, and reached for her phone.

The screen displayed "Gilbert."

She took a deep breath, trying to suppress her discomfort and the inexplicable irritation, and answered the call.

"Gilbert," she said, her voice still thick with fatigue and a hint of hoarseness.

Gilbert's concerned voice came through immediately, "Wendy, from the sound of it, you just saved the world again, didn't you? You must be exhausted."

"Yeah, a major surgery, just finished," Wendy said, rubbing her throbbing temples, trying to keep her tone calm.

"I knew it," Gilbert chuckled lightly, but his tone turned serious. "You push yourself too hard, you need to take care of yourself."

He paused, then changed the subject, "By the way, the Rocky Island Resort is officially open now. You only checked out the 'emotion release room' last time, right? You haven't really explored the rest of the hotel. Do you have time this weekend? Come and relax, really unwind."

He coaxed gently, "Even doctors need a vacation, right?"

"Also, you can see if there's anything that needs improvement. Don't you want to see our work firsthand?"

Wendy instinctively wanted to refuse, "Gilbert, I might not have much time lately."

"Don't tell me you're busy. You just finished such a high-stakes surgery; even the healthiest person needs a few days to recover," Gilbert insisted, not giving her a chance to refuse.

"Consider it a little vacation for yourself, okay?"

"Rocky Island has great air, beautiful scenery, beaches, and waves. It will help you recover better than staying cooped up in the hospital or your apartment."

Wendy was silent for a moment, her fingers unconsciously picking at the couch's armrest.

She was indeed very tired, physically and mentally exhausted, like a string pulled too tight, ready to snap at any moment.

Maybe a change of scenery, looking at the blue ocean, could give her nerves a moment of respite, temporarily forgetting the overwhelming burdens of her grudges and illness.