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A Reborn Bride Pearl Emerging from Dust novel Chapter 983

“Ms. Jewell, you actually make your own medicine?”

“Are self-made remedies really safe? Can they be more effective than what you’d find at the pharmacy?”

A handful of doctors gathered around Calliope, faces shining with anticipation. Any doubts they’d harbored about her had vanished the moment they saw her in the operating room—so composed, so precise. Watching her perform acupuncture with such confidence, and now claiming she’d prepare her own medicine too, left them in awe.

None of them had ever met a doctor with such a wide range of skills—she truly seemed extraordinary.

“The benefit of preparing the medicine myself,” Calliope explained, “is that I can fine-tune exactly the right dosage. That’s crucial, considering how strong Mavis’s medication needs to be right now. Plus, I use herbal ingredients, which, for some cases like hers, can be even more effective than standard pharmaceuticals. It gives me much tighter control over her treatment.”

Her listeners nodded in unison, taking in her every word.

“So, Dr. Jewell, do you specialize in integrative medicine?” one of the doctors ventured.

“That’s right,” Calliope replied with a nod.

“I’ve met a few old-school herbalists in my time,” one doctor said, “but never anyone with your kind of expertise. You’re in a league of your own.”

“Absolutely! Ms. Jewell, you’re really something special.”

“We’ve already learned so much from you,” another chimed in.

“No wonder Mr. Stewart called you a miracle worker. It’s true!”

“And for someone with a traditional background to be so skilled in surgery—that’s incredible!” one marveled. “I always thought doctors from your field didn’t do this kind of advanced surgical work.”

“It’s likely a combination of the poisoning and the infection,” Calliope replied. “Her body is extremely weak, so anything we do has to be gradual. We just need a bit more time.”

“You’re right,” said another. “If we push too hard, her system might not handle it.”

“All we can do is wait,” someone sighed.

One by one, they voiced their hopes that Mavis would wake soon. They knew Calliope’s work had been impeccable; the rest was up to time and to fate.

At sunrise, Uriah finally returned. He looked utterly worn out, hair a mess, clothes streaked with mud—and in his hand, he was clutching a snake.

“Callie,” he rasped, holding out the creature, “is this the one we need?”

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