Chapter 547:
Around the room, the titans of modern medicine sat like students awaiting their mentor, notebooks open and pens poised, as if one consultation could leave them with wisdom to last a lifetime.
These were the same chief physicians who usually kept others waiting for months, yet they had arrived early—just to witness a diagnosis from a woman barely into her twenties.
Walking into that space made Zander feel like an intruder in a sacred temple. Each step was heavier than the last, and by the time he reached the chair before the consultation desk, his palms were slick with sweat.
Not even performing before a sea of screaming fans had ever tied his stomach into knots like this.
Rory led a group of surgeons toward him, their quiet conversation circling around his condition as though they were reviewing the syllabus before the teacher arrived. Their murmurs faded the instant the door opened at the scheduled hour. Rylie stepped inside.
A crisp white coat fit her form perfectly, her long hair pulled back without fuss. Her face carried no hint of distraction—only the cool stillness of pure focus. A shaft of sunlight from the window traced a pale halo around her.
Every gaze in the room shifted toward her, and in that instant, respect and expectation mingled with a rare edge of nervous anticipation—as if they were not greeting a young doctor, but a master whose skill they had spent years admiring from afar.
Rylie let her eyes travel over the crowd, offering a brief nod before moving straight to the desk. To her, the renowned doctors seemed to fade into the background, unworthy of stealing her attention from the task at hand. Zander’s pulse pounded so hard that he thought it might burst from his chest. His back straightened on instinct, his hands gripping his knees until his knuckles whitened. Only now did he see it clearly—the rumors outside had been crafted to bury the truth.
Sliding into the chair, Rylie wasted no time. Her gaze locked on him, steady and direct. “Mr. Russell, I’ve gone through your laryngoscope scans and medical history. Now, I’ll need to examine your vocal cords myself to verify their current state.”
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“Alright…” The sound rasped out of Zander’s throat, tight with strain as he tried in vain to ease the tension there.
Rylie gave a subtle gesture for him to open his mouth, and Rory’s voice cut in with a blunt assessment. “It’s not looking good. The adhesions are extensive, and the glottis isn’t closing at all. We’ve gone through every possible approach, but even the most advanced separation techniques won’t bring your singing voice back.”
“A lead singer unable to sing will only be eliminated.” Rylie retracted her hand after the examination, removing her gloves. “It’s indeed a pity.”
The bitterness in Zander’s face deepened. “Is there something you can do?”
“Traditional methods such as vocal cord augmentation or basic scar release are limited in treating an injury of this severity. In some cases, they can even destroy the remaining delicate microstructures. That is why I intend to employ a new approach, combining the ‘Snow Mint’ compound with bio-neural repair and regeneration technology to promote recovery. You would be the first patient to undergo this experimental treatment.” Rylie spoke with steady composure. “The operation is scheduled for tomorrow. I am ninety percent certain you will regain normal speech within a month and be able to sing again in three. Do you wish to proceed?”
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