Chapter 589 Pharmaceutical Failure
Ethan had just returned to the hospital when he spotted Isabella waiting anxiously outside the room. He frowned with displeasure. "Isabella, didn't you resign from nursing? Why are you still at the hospital?"
Seeing him return alone, she asked, "Your Highness, I'm looking for Ashley."
"She had to step out on an errand."
Isabella seemed hesitant to speak further.
"Is something wrong?" Ethan asked.
With visible discomfort, Isabella pressed, "Do you know where she went?"
Ethan's brow furrowed. "Of course I know where she is. Whatever you need to tell her, you can tell me, and I'll pass it along."
Isabella noticeably relaxed. "It's good that you know her whereabouts. It's nothing urgent—I can tell her tomorrow."
Ethan gave her a cold glance.
Her behavior struck him as odd. Was she using this as an excuse to approach him?
As Ethan was about to reprimand her, he noticed her gaze fixed intently on his chest—where his heart was. Her stare made him deeply uncomfortable.
"How long are you going to stare?" he snapped impatiently.
He owed his life to this heart and should logically feel grateful toward the donor's girlfriend. Yet something about Isabella's fixation on his chest disturbed him profoundly.
"I'm sorry if I frightened you. I'll go now," Isabella said before walking away.
Ethan sighed with relief. The memory of her gaze sent a chill down his spine.
Isabella had been getting close to Ashley lately. Something about her seemed off, and Ethan made a mental note to warn Ashley to keep her distance.
Just then, his phone rang—it was Ashley. A tender smile crossed his face as he answered, "Hello, darling. Have you settled in?"
"Honey, Yaakov rented a place for me. I'll be staying there at night for a while to focus on developing the Panacea. I've called Ian to look after you."
"Alright. When you're done, I'll have to ask Atticus for compensation—making me sleep alone these nights."
Ashley laughed. "I need to get to work now."
"You work during the day and develop medicine at night. Don't exhaust yourself—make sure you get at least eight hours of sleep, okay?" Ethan said with concern.
"I will. I'll hang up now."
"Go ahead."
They reluctantly ended the call.
Ashley smiled sweetly at her phone, but her expression changed to dismay when she saw the overwhelming array of medicinal ingredients before her.
Her memory loss meant she'd forgotten the names and purposes of these materials.
Yaakov had brought two books—one for identifying ingredients and another containing the Panacea formula. Following the instructions, it took her over two hours just to sort the materials.
When she began mixing the formula, two hours passed without success. Frustration mounted until she suddenly coughed up blood, feeling dizzy.
She murmured, "What's happening? I followed the formula exactly. Why did it fail?"
Her heart burned with disappointment. She took several deep breaths to compose herself while cleaning up, then called Yaakov.
"Hello, Ashley. How's it going?" Yaakov asked.
"It failed."
"How is that possible?" Yaakov exclaimed. "I remember you succeeded on your first attempt before!"
"I don't know. I just coughed up blood too."
"Ashley, did your emotions get the better of you? That could explain the blood."
"I was anxious about delaying York's treatment. My urgency led to the bleeding."
"When making medicine, you must never rush. You need a calm mind. Are you alright? Do you need my assistance?"
Ashley's voice carried a note of dejection. "I'm fine. It's probably my amnesia—everything feels familiar yet difficult to execute. If my memory returns, perhaps it won't seem so complex."
"I'll come help you. Two people working together will be more efficient."
"Thank you."
Moments later, Yaakov knocked at her door. When she opened it, she had cleaned herself up, though blood stains remained on her clothes.
Seeing the stains, Yaakov asked worriedly, "Ashley, that's a lot of blood. Are you sure you're alright?"
"I'm fine. Come in. You said we had the same teacher—you must know how to make Panacea too. Perhaps you'd be more efficient."
"Ashley, despite my medical expertise, I've tried countless times during your absence and failed to create Panacea."
Ashley looked surprised. "How is that possible?"
Yaakov's face showed embarrassment. "I finally understand why our mentor entrusted Panacea to you instead of me. Hard work means nothing compared to natural talent. You're simply a genius, Ashley. Only you can create Panacea."
"That's quite an exaggeration."
"It's not. Even our teacher might not be able to create it."
Ashley's mouth twitched. "If I'm truly that skilled, why did I fail?"
"Well..." Yaakov pondered. "Your first failure might be related to your emotional state. Let's try again."
"Alright."
Under Yaakov's supervision, Ashley sorted the ingredients much faster—completing in minutes what had previously taken hours. She concentrated fully on the brewing process, but after thirty minutes...
"It's no use. Another failure," Ashley said dejectedly.
Thinking of York suffering, having wasted two attempts and nearly depleting their ingredients, she grew increasingly anxious about disappointing Atticus.
"Yaakov, could my amnesia be the problem?"
"I'm not sure," Yaakov replied, then brightened. "I've recently developed a memory-restoration medication. Would you like to try it? Recovering your memories might help with creating Panacea."
Ashley's eyes lit up. "Yes, I'll try it."
Yaakov produced a bottle of pills—his own creation—though he suddenly seemed hesitant.
Ashley took the bottle without noticing his reluctance. "How many should I take?"
Though the drug hadn't undergone clinical trials, Yaakov had complete confidence in his medical abilities. Pushing aside his doubts, he instructed, "Three times daily, two pills each time."
"Perfect." With that, Ashley took out two pills and swallowed them with water.
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