Chapter 655 What the Ginger Tea Couldn’t Heal

Wyatt placed Yunice’s shoes neatly on the carpet, then gently pulled the blanket over her.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door—hotel staff.

He opened it and returned with a bag full of daily necessities.

Yunice lay on her side, watching him move about the suite. “Are you making something?”

Wyatt pulled over a small stool and set a cutting board on top of it—just high enough so Yunice could see everything from the bed.

And so he could keep her in view.

He began slicing ginger. “I’ve got a great remedy. Thought I’d try it for you.”

Yunice watched him for a second, then asked, “Did your mom used to have really painful cramps too?”

Wyatt looked up, surprised. “How’d you know?”

“I met her once when I was little,” Yunice said calmly. “I was studying face reading at the time. Couldn’t help but take a glance.”

Wyatt corrected her without thinking. “That’s your mother-in-law.”

“…” Yunice choked a little on the term.

They’d been married for almost two years, yet the whole thing still felt like child’s play.

Wyatt sliced the ginger into pieces, then into strips, and finally into a fine mince.

“She couldn’t eat red meat at the Powell family. Her body was always cold and stagnant. She could barely get out of bed each month—her sheets soaked with sweat.”

“I learned then how hard it is to be a woman.”

“When I found that remedy, it was simple enough to make. I started sneaking into the kitchen for ingredients—steaming it for her myself.”

Yunice’s eyes followed his hands as he scraped the minced ginger into a bowl. Her voice dropped. “Was it the one with four ounces brown sugar, two ounces ginger, a little angelica root, and no water—just steamed?”

Wyatt froze. A flicker of emotion passed through his gaze. He looked at her. “You gave me that recipe?”

“It was from my dad,” Yunice replied, resting her chin on her hand. “I was a kid—I didn’t have cramps back then.”

“You’ve always resented him for delivering Paul, but you didn’t know—he helped your family too.”

“My dad’s just… soft-hearted. Always believed everyone suffers in this world, so if he could help someone, he would.”

“Back then, he was worried you’d be too guarded, that you wouldn’t trust the prescription if you knew it came from him. So he slipped it through the gate of your courtyard. It only listed ginger, brown sugar, and angelica—nothing that could clash. He figured you’d be willing to try it.”

Wyatt stared at her. He’d never known.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“It was such a small thing. How was I supposed to know you’d remember it?” she muttered.

“Anything else I don’t know about?”

“Not that I can think of.”

She paused, then asked, “Did it help? The medicine, I mean. Did your mom get better?”

Wyatt nodded. “It helped. If we’d had the full ingredients, she probably would’ve suffered less.”

Yunice looked confused. “What do you mean?”

Wyatt’s tone dropped. “They locked me in that courtyard to break me. When I was still young, your mother-in-law tried to teach me to read in secret. One of the maids saw and told the old man. He dragged her away and didn’t let her see her for three days.”

“I was so scared of losing her, I refused to learn after that. Even into my teens, I still couldn’t read.”

“I stole ginger and brown sugar from the kitchen. But the wall of the herb cabinet was covered in labels—rows and rows of words. I couldn’t tell which one was angelica root.”

“And even if I could… I didn’t dare use it.”

“What if it was bait? What if I poisoned her myself? What if… she died and I was left alone?”

The quiet tremor in his voice made Yunice lift her head.

She got out of bed, barefoot on the carpet.

Wyatt stood instantly. “Put your shoes on.”

He reached for her but stopped halfway, remembering he’d just handled ginger. He didn’t want it to sting her skin.

Yunice had already grabbed a stool and sat down beside him. “It doesn’t hurt as much anymore.”

Wyatt still went to the sink and scrubbed his hands with soap, then came back and placed a soft blanket across her lap.

She stayed close this time. She wanted to talk. To understand him.

“Your mom… she must’ve hated leaving you. So why…”

Why give up first?

Wyatt’s voice was quiet. “She couldn’t take it anymore.”

“The Powell family didn’t just neglect her. They had a thousand ways to wear a person down without ever showing a mark.”

“Her health never recovered after giving birth to me. And then… the depression set in. It just got worse.”

“She told me many times—she couldn’t hold on. She wanted to go. Asked me to forgive her.”

“She said keeping her alive would only drag me down. That as long as she stayed, I’d always be trapped in that little courtyard.”

“She believed if she died… I’d finally grow wings.”

“Leave the Powell family. And never come back.”

“Even if I became a street peddler… it’d still be better than living like a dog in that house.”

Yunice’s brows furrowed tighter and tighter. Her eyes burned with anger.

That old man… how is he still alive?

His death would be too easy.