Chapter 338

"Something wrong? You have issues with Dr. White?"

Old Master Johnson sipped his red bean and barley porridge leisurely, savoring the creamy texture melting on his tongue. Thick, hearty porridge had always been his favorite.

"Dr. White is too calculating." Shawn Johnson set down his fork, brows furrowed. "A girl barely in her twenties, yet she maneuvers like a seasoned player. I fear we're nurturing a viper in our bosom."

The old man burst into laughter, crow's feet crinkling at his eyes. "Shawn, few earn such praise from you. Go on—how has she offended you?"

Shawn hesitated. His suspicions about Luna remained just that—suspicions.

"Grandfather, you don't know her. Saving you might've been a ploy to exploit our family's influence."

The porcelain bowl clinked sharply as the patriarch set it down, his expression hardening.

"Shawn, do you take me for a senile fool?" He retrieved a dossier from his drawer. "Read this."

Shawn's pupils contracted as he flipped through the pages.

"This is—"

"Records of every patient Luna treated these past six months." The old man's voice was steady. "Not a single penny in fees. She nearly lost her job saving an unrelated child."

Shawn's fingers absently traced the document edges.

"But the Shaws—"

"Did you witness Kevin Shaw's death yourself?" The patriarch's gaze turned piercing. "The hospital's death certificate states clearly—myocardial infarction."

A branch snapped outside, startling sparrows into flight.

"Still, Grandfather—"

"Shawn," the elder interrupted, "know why I value Luna?"

Shawn shook his head.

"She possesses what our family lacks most." The old man gazed through the window. "The courage to sacrifice everything for conviction."

Silence engulfed the study, broken only by the grandfather clock's ticking.

"Her methods, though—"

"Methods?" The patriarch scoffed. "When I led a company to obliterate enemy command posts, did you question methods?"

Shawn's head jerked up.

"Grandfather, you're—"

"Remember," the old man rose, his shadow looming large against the wall, "great deeds tolerate no fastidiousness."

He pulled a yellowed album from the shelves.

"Look."

The photo showed a younger version of himself standing amidst corpses, eyes sharp as blades.

"Back then, no one lectured me about methods."

Shawn's Adam's apple bobbed.

"I understand."

The patriarch patted his grandson's shoulder, voice softening abruptly. "Shawn, sometimes people aren't what they seem."

He tapped his chest.

"See with this."