Chapter 10: The Miracle Doctor
532 Words
That’s a bold claim."
Mu Cheng bit back his frustration as he dialed his phone. "Yes, we’re in the underground market. Get here as fast as you can."
After hanging up, he turned back to the girl with an icy glare. "Miss, just because my master bought an ancient coin from you doesn’t mean you can just—"
Before he could finish, the girl interrupted.
"Arrhythmia. Increasing pain in the precordial region, radiating to the left shoulder and abdomen."
"Blood sugar and blood pressure above critical thresholds."
"Lung shadow from excessive smoking, partial airway obstruction not fully cleared."
She lifted her eyes, calm and unreadable.
"Midnight to 8 AM is the peak period for an episode. Given that he had surgery a month ago, he shouldn’t even be out this late."
Mu Cheng stiffened, his expression shifting from annoyance to disbelief.
She was right. Down to the last detail.
Even the exact time of the surgery.
Before he could recover from the shock, she spoke again.
"Silver needles."
Instinctively, Mu Cheng reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a finely crafted case, not even stopping to question how she knew he had them.
She took the box from him, flipping it open. Seven silver needles glinted in the dim light as she plucked them between her fingers, her movements practiced and swift.
Mu Cheng’s brows furrowed as he blurted, "No more than four at once!"
The moment the words left his mouth, the girl finally looked at him.
Her gaze was deep, unreadable—misty yet sharp, revealing neither emotion nor intent.
"Be quiet."
Mu Cheng swallowed hard. "S-Sorry."
He didn’t think he was wrong.
Even when treating Mu Heqing before, their top medical consultant—Miss Meng—had never used more than four needles at once. When he had asked about it, she had explained that even within the ancient medical community, using seven needles simultaneously was virtually unheard of.
It was simply impossible. A human only had two hands—how could someone control that many needles with precision?
But before he could dwell on that thought, his eyes widened in sheer disbelief.
The seven needles in her hands became a blur, moving too fast for him to track.
One after another, they pierced into critical acupoints, extracted, then moved again. Her hands were steady, her speed almost inhuman.
Mu Cheng tried to follow, but the movements were beyond his comprehension. His heartbeat quickened in sync with the rapid rhythm of the needlework.
What kind of technique is this?!
Then, within seconds—less than a minute—the pale-faced Mu Heqing took a deep, gasping breath.
The sickly blue hue on his face faded, replaced by healthy color.
The entire episode had been neutralized.
Ying Zijin calmly withdrew the last needle, returning it to the case.
She straightened, slipping one hand into her pocket in a casual stance. Not even a single breath out of place.
"Done."
Mu Cheng was still frozen, his mind unable to process what had just happened.
Even Miss Meng—the best doctor they knew—was left exhausted after treating Mu Heqing.
Yet this girl hadn’t even flinched.
- Writer
