Facing an Ancient God for a Year

Chapter 1274: Chapter 1272: Loss of Image (16)

The voice was gentle, unhurried, perfectly embodying the style of Reginald and his ilk within the Sect.

However, when it reached Mr. Winslow’s ears, it caused him to once again feel as if he had short-circuited.

Fortunately, having been through a similar experience once before, this time he regained his composure in less than half the time.

His first instinct was to turn back and glance toward his daughter’s bedroom.

Noticing that his wife and the doctor had already stepped out and were now standing behind him, even closing the door behind them as if on cue, he sighed in mild relief.

There was no room for wishful thinking—this was undeniably an arrival with ill intent.

Chances were high that everyone in the house currently understood whom the opposing party was targeting.

In such circumstances, maintaining a demeanor of utmost composure was clearly the best approach.

It seemed even the doctor ought not to hide—for now, he truly wasn’t attempting to do so?

Fu Qian calmly strode to the side and sat down, showing no inclination to leave through another door, leaving Winslow momentarily feeling his rationality assaulted yet again.

But now wasn’t the time for such sentiments. With a deep breath, he settled his emotions and swiftly opened the door.

…

Apart from the butler he had seen before, standing outside was a tall, red-haired man.

Compared to Reginald, he appeared significantly younger, wearing a similarly dark robe with gold-threaded epaulets, his face devoid of expression.

“Lord Orintel, please come in. My apologies for not coming out to greet you earlier.”

An increasingly composed Winslow managed a strained smile and greeted him.

The visitor clearly bore ill intent; Winslow refrained from excessive politeness, knowing it would only make subsequent interactions more disadvantageous.

“Not at all. It’s my fault for arriving so abruptly. I happened to be strolling nearby and thought I’d stop by and pay a visit.”

Lord Orintel seemed indifferent to these formalities, casually looking past Winslow toward the room’s interior, where his gaze immediately landed on Fu Qian sitting inside.

Mrs. Winslow instinctively made a slight motion to block the line of sight, but it was obviously ineffective.

Seeming to sense Orintel’s stare, Fu Qian raised his head, smiled faintly, and nodded.

This reaction visibly surprised Orintel, who studied him from head to toe before walking past the space Winslow had opened for him.

…

“Your Lordship, coming by so late—is there a specific reason?”

After all, this was merely the outer room of the young noblewoman’s bedroom. It was neither particularly spacious nor well-equipped for hosting visitors.

Once Lord Orintel had been seated, Winslow refrained from making superfluous small talk and didn’t rush to introduce Fu Qian but directly inquired about Orintel’s purpose in coming.

It was clear that Orintel’s earlier remarks were mere pretense. Even if the Celestial Sphere Sect members were nocturnal by nature, there was no logical reason for him to “stroll” into someone’s home unannounced.

Barging in and cornering them like this—his intention was glaringly obvious.

“Oh, nothing really. It’s just been some time since I last visited your home.”

Yet Orintel, faced with Winslow’s inquiry, merely offered a teasing denial, his tone vaguely mocking.

“How have things been around here lately?”

From his tone, it seemed he was at least somewhat familiar with Winslow.

“…Actually, I was just about to seek you out for something.”

Winslow withdrew his gaze and quickly made up his mind.

“Oh? And what might that be?”

“My daughter, Jane, has been feeling unwell recently—”

“And the man sitting beside you seems rather incompetent at handling it, doesn’t he?”

Before Winslow could finish, someone cut in, and at the same moment, the previously ajar door was pushed open from outside.

The Winslow couple, recognizing the voice, looked toward the entering figure with evident alarm.

Natalie stepped in, her usual graceful and intelligent demeanor replaced by an icy hostility.

“I’m sorry, but I cannot stand by as you gamble with Jane’s life.”

With a look of disdain, she slowly shook her head at the Winslows and pointed toward Fu Qian.

“I simply cannot fathom how you could put your trust in such a quack.”

…

How should one even respond?

Fu Qian, fully satisfied with his earlier diagnosis, made no effort to conceal his displeasure.

“Have you never heard the saying, ‘Even a quack can cure major illnesses’?”

He chuckled…

Natalie, on the other hand, ignored him entirely, responding with cold, scornful laughter.

“Who are you?”

With an almost identical smirk, Lord Orintel glanced up and down at Fu Qian.

“Didn’t he just say? A quack.”

Before the visibly shaken Winslow couple could offer introductions, Fu Qian had already adopted a patronizing expression.

This elite member of the Sect had clearly been summoned by Natalie.

Earlier, pushing Natalie out of the room had been a calculated move—perhaps exploiting her connections within the Sect might yield surprises.

The results were certainly telling—her obstinacy ran deep, pulling in members of the Sect despite little assurance of success.

Indeed, the power of animosity is to be trusted.

As for Natalie’s delayed appearance, where had she been until now?

Fu Qian’s peripheral gaze flickered toward the third door.

Sure enough, she’d been holding her breath, lurking behind it the entire time.

This private tutor was intimately familiar with the house’s layout; she had positioned herself to intercept anyone attempting to flee—a tactic that would weaken their chances of pleading for mercy should they get caught.

Even though the situation was not particularly advantageous, she had clearly been doing her utmost to corner the Winslow family.

“Dr. Quack, is it? Understood.”

Fu Qian’s blunt remark successfully drew considerable ire. Orintel’s gaze sharpened like knives as he glared icily at him.

“So, what are your diagnostic results?”

“Excellent and ideal.”

Facing such piercing scrutiny, Fu Qian upheld his medical ethics, standing firm against intimidation.

“Well, that is splendid… Would you mind terribly if I had a look myself?”

The stranger, though odd in demeanor, clearly understood the gravity of the situation and chose not to waste any more energy on Fu Qian.

“Of course. That’s precisely what I wanted to suggest.”

Winslow, visibly shaken by Fu Qian’s conduct, finally found a chance to interject and display his intentions.

“I previously let my wishful thinking create unnecessary risks, and for that, I owe your Lordship an apology.”

“Understood, but I cannot accept it on behalf of the Sect—let’s focus on checking up on Jane first.”

Orintel did not mince words.

His stance was obvious: you’ve caused trouble, and I cannot cover it up for you. Let’s assess just how dire the situation is.

“And of course, Dr. Quack here must come with me afterward.”

“…Please follow me.”

Somewhat startled by this turn of events, Winslow moved ahead to open the door.

The doctor, having managed to provoke considerable animosity with his exaggerated display, had inadvertently softened Orintel’s demeanor toward Winslow.

But as Orintel said, the crux of the matter lay in the diagnosis. If Fu Qian’s actions had indeed caused irreparable harm, then the consequences would undoubtedly be grim.

“This…”

Yet in the next moment, upon seeing Jane lying there, Orintel froze in place, not even stepping through the doorway.