How Death Became My Rebirth by Evelyn Florence ( Cassandra )
How Death Became My Rebirth by Evelyn Florence Chapter 466

Chapter 466 

“Babe, I’ve only got a few days left, can you really bear to leave me hanging?” Kenneth’s voice carried a pitiful tone, reminiscent of a peacock in courtship, desperately flaunting its feathers to gain affection. 

“I can totally bear it. I think your isolation training was way too short. You should extend it till the end of the year,” Cassandra replied stiffly, at her wit’s end. She felt that Kenneth’s desire was over too consuming. 

The past few days had left her visibly struggling. Her lower back was about to give out on her. 

Despite her fondness for having sex with Kenneth, the frequency was getting to be too much. 

Kenneth’s eyes darkened, his gaze becoming inscrutable with a hint of cunning, “In that case, why don’t you just stay in bed for the next couple of days?” 

Without giving Cassandra a chance to argue, he sealed her lips with his, muffling any retorts she might have had. 

Cassandra didn’t manage to counter Kenneth. In the end, she was utterly spent to the point of not wanting to move a single finger. 

She fell asleep around noon, without having lunch or even a sip of water, unresponsive to Kenneth’s calls. This worried him enough to summon a doctor, who concluded she was simply exhausted. 

Kenneth realized he needed to reflect on his actions. He couldn’t keep wearing Cassandra out like this. 

He knew she was getting really exhausted, but he just could not stop. It was as if he was addicted to her presence, her sweet scent that lingered around him, stirring his emotions and causing an unrest within that he couldn’t 

control. 

He found himself drowning in desire, unable to restrain his movements. 

After some deep reflection, he vowed to change. 

Caressing Cassandra’s cheek, noticing the signs of weariness on her face, he decided to retreat to his study to work, letting her rest undisturbed. 

In the Pinehart Mansion today, everyone moved with extra care, speaking in hushed tones to not disturb her rest. 

It was the next morning when Cassandra woke up. 

Kenneth’s side of the bed was cold, indicating that he had been up for a while. But she couldn’t find him either in the living room or in the study. 

Susan, seeing Cassandra awake, felt concerned but also pleased. 

She was all too aware of the transformation that came over Kenneth whenever he was with Cassandra, turning him 

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into a man of tenderness and generosity, a true lover at heart. Their affection for each other turned the entire mansion into a haven of sweetness, much like lovebirds in their blissful world. 

“Ms. Yates, you’re awake! Mr. Zelinski prepared breakfast for you. Shall I bring it over?” Susan greeted her warmly. 

“Sure, bring it here. I’ll eat at the coffee table. Where’s Kenneth?” Kenneth was good at making breakfast. Cassandra took a bite of the food and asked. 

“He’s gone to the office, said he won’t be back till tonight,” replied Susan. 

Cassandra was skeptical, ‘Going the the office? 

‘He’d been practically glued to home these past few days, and now suddenly he changed his mind?” 

“All right, I know.” She continued eating without further inquiry. 

She planned to take the herbs to Whitecrane Hall for further compounding after breakfast. A herb needed could only be found in Whitecrane Hall. It seemed they had a monopoly on this herb. 

Upon arriving at Whitecrane Hall, Cassandra found it surrounded by a crowd. 

Pushing through, she saw Hugo treating someone, though his expression was grave. 

“Hugo, Dr. Quirke hasn’t taught you anything for so many years? A random illness could kill you?” A man standing next to Hugo sounded very arrogant and even a little provocative. 

“What’s going on?” she asked, approaching them. 

Cassandra’s presence boosted Hugo, who had planned to call her if he couldn’t nail it. 

“Ms. Yates, someone here is challenging us!” exclaimed Scarlett from the reception. 

Cassandra was irritated by the audacity of those bullying a poor old man, simply to leech off Whitecrane Hall’s fame with their new clinic, 

She scolded inwardly, ‘Challenging? A bunch of hypocrites!’ 

Cassandra faced them coldly, inquiring, “Is it true?” 

Hugo nodded in confirmation awkwardly. There had been people who came here to challenge him in medical skills, so as to win fame and customers. 

Facing the challengers, her gaze sharp and voice cold, she asked, “You’re here to challenge us?” 

“Well, it’s not exactly a challenge, more like a friendly exchange. What if we can cure what Hugo can’t? Wouldn’t 

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that prove our clinic’s worth?” one of those challengers, Adrian Blackwood, retorted, clearly provoking. 

Adrian knew it was impossible for them to surpass Dr. Quirke. But Hugo, Dr. Quirke’s helper, would be much easier 

to deal with. 

Being better than Hugo was enough to make them famous. Where there’s fame, there’s fortune. 

Cassandra, unfazed, turned to Hugo, “Can you handle this on your own?” 

Hugo decided to tell the truth out of the sense of responsibility as a doctor. “I can only control it temporarily, not cure it,” Hugo admitted, disappointed in his limitations. 

“Then leave it to me,” declared Cassandra, taking silver needles and other tools from him. 

Adrian, skeptical, mocked her youth, “Does Whitecrane Hall have no better doctors?”  Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

He studied Cassandra very closely. “What can a young girl know about traditional medicine? Hugo, even if you can’t afford to lose, sending a girl won’t make things better. It seems that we’re kind of bullying her, haha!” 

Cassandra simply stated, “I’m his apprentice and have studied traditional medicine for years. If I cure this patient, you leave, right? Why use a sledgehammer to crack a nut? I can handle this all by myself.” 

Her age was convincing as an apprentice. 

“But since this is a competition, I think we should set some rules, don’t you think?” Cassandra looked at Adrian with 

a playful smirk, her tone laced with light mockery. 

“Of course, what’s the stake?” Adrian was inwardly thrilled. He’d come for a prize, and now Cassandra was handing 

it to him on a silver platter. How could he not take it? 

Cassandra said, “We treated the patient you brought. So, you must treat the patient we brought. Of course, I won’t pick a terminal case for you. If you manage to cure this one, you win, and Whitecrane Hall admits defeat. We’ll pack our things and leave. How does that sound?” 

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