Chapter 3

To be fair, Lorraine indeed wasn't as beautiful as Sienna. Lidya had said that before.

Anyway, wasn't it a bit too much to say that out loud in front of the bride herself?

Lidya turned awkward. "No, no! Raine is also very pretty, and they're both beautiful."

"Enough! It's early morning. You elders should have some shame! The younger generation is here to help. Just hand over the gifts and stop with the nonsense!" It was Agnes who finally put a stop to it.

She only doted on her grandson. As long as her grandson was happy, she didn't care whom he married.

Agnes looked Lorraine up and down with a smile. "Raine is a good child. Her face is round and cute. I like her."

"Here, take this. It's from me." Agnes handed over the wedding gift.

Lorraine instinctively glanced at Dawson. He remained expressionless, neither encouraging nor stopping her. So, she smoothly accepted it. "Thank you, Grandma."

With Agnes backing her, no one dared to continue making trouble. One by one, Dawson's parents, uncles, and aunts followed suit, each presenting their gifts.

The Mercer family was much easier to get along with than the Gregory family. During breakfast, the atmosphere was lighthearted, filled with casual conversation. No one deliberately made things difficult for Lorraine, nor did anyone stir up unnecessary trouble. At least, on the surface, everything seemed harmonious.

After breakfast, Dawson left the house.

Because she did not sleep well, Lorraine went back to the room to catch up on sleep.

By the time she woke up again, he had already returned.

As always, he was sitting silently on the sofa, his presence imposing yet unreadable.

"You're back?" she asked.

"Here, this is for you. Open it and take a look." Dawson pointed to a pile of beautifully wrapped bags on the floor.

"What is it?" she asked curiously.

"Clothes, a phone, a bag."

Lorraine was surprised.

Just as she was about to ask why he had bought her all these things, he cut her off with a scathing remark. "What kind of era do we live in? And you don't even have a phone?"

She lowered her head. "I don't go to school. I don't have friends. A phone would be useless to me."

"So, should I say the Gregory family treated you poorly?

"They raised you for four years, but they never even bought you a phone or proper clothes."

Lorraine remained silent, because everything Dawson said was true.

The Gregory family wasn't necessarily cruel to her. At the very least, the past four years had been peaceful, and no one had gone out of their way to torment her. But her presence in the household was so insignificant that she often ate meals alongside the maids.

At the same time, she couldn't exactly say the Gregory family had been kind to her either. They had never sent her to school, never acknowledged her existence in public. In fact, no one even knew the Gregory family had an adopted daughter until now, if it weren't for the fact that Sienna was unwilling to marry blind Dawson.

Indeed, Dawson had never paid attention to the fact that the Gregory family had an adopted girl who had been raised for four years.

Even now, he had no idea what she looked like. But at least, judging from her voice, she did not sound like an ugly girl.

"Why are you giving me these things?" Lorraine suddenly asked.

"Because I don't want you to embarrass me."

Lorraine remained silent.

"My wife shouldn't look so shabby. Take these and use them. At least they'll match your current status."

"Thank you." She wasn't the type to act overly proud. If someone gave her something, she had no reason to refuse.

Lorraine walked over, squatted down, and carefully took each item out of the bags.

The first thing that caught her eye was the phone. A brand-new, pink edition of the latest model.

No young girl could resist such a color. If Dawson's eyes were not blind, he would surely notice how it brightened her face.

The remaining items, like the clothes and designer bags, didn't bring her as much excitement.

Before she turned eighteen, Lorraine had lived in remote mountains with her grandfather.

So, these material things, luxury brands, and high-end fashion didn't attract her.

The only exception was the phone. It was something she had always wanted.

In fact, John Gregory had mentioned giving her one of his old phones.

But whether out of jealousy or something else, Eleanor Gregory said that since Lorraine had no friends and didn't work, she wouldn't need it.

That matter had just fizzled out. It was a bit awkward to admit, but during her four years in the Gregory family, the truth is that she had no money. She couldn't secretly find work behind the Gregory family's back, and without an education, finding work would be difficult anyway.

She had no way of keeping her favorite herbs with her.

Lorraine picked up the phone, feeling a little excited, and carefully held it in her hands.

"Let me ask you, if the poison I have is methanol, do you have a way to detoxify it?"

Lorraine slowly turned to look at Dawson.

As expected, there's no such thing as a free lunch. She knew this man wouldn't be kind enough to give her phones and bags for nothing.

She slowly said, "The doctors told you that methanol poisoning caused irreversible damage, didn't they?"

"Yes," he admitted.

Today he had visited his family's private hospital and consulted several authoritative doctors.

Although they confirmed signs of methanol poisoning, they all said the damage to his eyes couldn't be reversed.

Dawson had been restless ever since. He had sat in his room, waiting for Lorraine to wake up.

He had a vague feeling that perhaps this woman in front of him could bring him his last glimmer of hope.

"So, you're saying the poison you have is methanol?"

"Yes."

"Dawson, I've never conducted a clinical trial. Everything I know was learned from my grandfather. I've never cured anyone of this before. But ... if you trust me, I can give it a try." Her voice was serious, her words clear and deliberate.

"How confident are you?" he asked calmly.

"Not at all."

"Not confident?" Dawson heard what she said, and his heart sank.

He had come to her with the last shred of hope, and now she was saying she couldn't help him.

"I won't promise I can restore your vision, but I can try," she said.

"So, I'll just be your lab rat?"

"That's how it is," Lorraine replied, calm and composed.

Dawson suddenly became angry. He slammed his phone onto the ground with a loud crack. "Lorraine, how dare you! Do you really think I wouldn't kill you right here and now?"

"Mr. Mercer, the person who poisoned you isn't me, and the one responsible for your accident isn't me either. I think it's worth reminding you of that fact."

In an instant, the air grew tense again.

Dawson was naturally aloof, arrogant, and irritable. His temper was sharp like a blade.

On the other hand, Lorraine was born with stable emotions, without much joy or sorrow, always maintaining a steady composure, even in the face of danger.

They were completely different people, yet fate had intertwined their paths in an unexpected way.

"If it fails, will I be in danger?" Dawson tried to persuade himself, and his tone even softened.

"Of course not. At worst, you'll still be blind. Nothing will change."

"Then there's nothing more to say. Do it. The sooner, the better."

After just one week of blindness, his patience had already worn thin. His usual temperament had worsened, and he was constantly on edge.

He had to get his sight back. Every moment without it was unbearable.

"I needed some herbs," Lorraine said.

"Write a list, and I'll have someone buy them," he offered.

"You won't find them in stores."

"What do you mean? Are you messing with me?" He frowned again.

"No, the herbs I need are in the mountains. They're all unnamed wild plants that I can't describe in detail. So, if it's convenient, you might as well arrange for someone to take me back there. I'll gather them myself. I have the tools for making medicine at my old house, which would make things easier."

"Fine. Let's go immediately."

And just like that, on the second day of their marriage, Dawson used the excuse of taking his wife on a vacation, and they left Amber City.

Amber City was only about a hundred kilometers from Lorraine's hometown, Phoenix Ridge. But no one could have predicted that just three days later, when they returned, Dawson's eyesight had already been restored.

He still vividly remembered that night in the thatched cottage on Phoenix Ridge. Just ten minutes after Dawson drank the antidote, he opened his eyes, and the world was bright again.

"How about it? Can you see?" Lorraine cautiously held up her hand in front of his face, waving five fingers.

Dawson suddenly reached out, pulling her into his arms.

Their eyes met, and at that moment, the girl in front of Dawson became an unshakable legend in his heart.

"Dawson, you can see now, can't you?" Lorraine's voice trembled slightly, unable to suppress the excitement welling up inside her.