She Became Rich After Divorce (Cheyenne and Kelvin)

Chapter 291: Needles

Chapter 291: Needles

Time had dwindled down to the last minute. Cheyenne's gaze remained locked onto his eyes,watching as his long, sweat-drenched eyelashes quivered.

Trembling.

Hidden beneath his gaze was fatigue, pain, and a hint of yearning. In Master Iker's eyes, she saw adesire for victory. It was a determination to conquer all obstacles and emerge victorious.

He wanted to stand up!

He wanted to become the same towering and glorious Iker of the past.

Cheyenne bit her lip and her obsidian-like eyes gained a cold, determined glint, akin to themoonlight of autumn. She looked directly at him.

"Master Iker, have you decided?"

"Continue... Miss Lawrence."

He knew that if he continued with this needle, the previous pain might he suffered have been invain. If he stopped now, following old Mr. Edwards' treatment plan, a daily herbal bath andacupuncture for three months might still lead to recovery. However, as he experienced the searingpain that felt like his heart was being roasted, he realized how slow time could pass, with everyminute and second feeling like an eternity.

Three months...

It was too long.

"Alright."

Cheyenne smiled, radiant as a fireworks display in the night sky, dazzling and captivating. Calmly,she continued to insert the silver needle, defying old Mr. Edwards' shocked objections, driving it in.novelbin

Layne's rough hand, clutching the timer, trembled uncontrollably. Cold sweat poured down his entirebody, his scalp tingling.

This was too audacious!

Even in the medical records of the Edwards family, the ancestors who had developed the ThirteenNeedles dared to use the twelfth needle only up to four centimeters.

Throughout his thirty-plus years of practice, Layne had never ventured beyond three centimeters.

Cheyenne's action was unprecedented, and Layne couldn't determine whether it was good or bad.As he rapidly considered how to remedy the situation if it failed, he saw Cheyenne preparing to usean even longer needle, measuring twenty-two centimeters.

Only thirty seconds remained.

In an instant, his face turned ashen.

"Stop, Cheyenne! That's a long needle!"

But it was too late. Cheyenne placed one hand below Iker's navel, an inch from the previousinsertion, and with her other hand, she gripped the handle of the long needle. She inserted it at aforty-five-degree angle, with her thumb and forefinger against the needle's shaft, continuing to pushit in.

Iker's gaze remained steady as he observed her fair, cool hand resting against his abdomen, andthe slight coolness seemed to soothe the underlying heat. Black blood flowed slowly from theneedle's tip, and just as it was about to drip into the water, Cheyenne immediately caught it with anearby metal tray and covered it.

"Grandpa!"

Layne's round, wide eyes remained fixed on the silver needle. The voices echoing in his mindrepeatedly questioned when and how Cheyenne had learned this final level of the technique.

It was only when he heard Cheyenne's loud shout that he snapped out of his shock, lowering hishead to check the timer. The numbers had just stopped at "0".

In that split second, she also removed the long needle and had Tanner and Omari assist in liftingIker out of the bath. She turned around.

It wasn't until Layne came over and tapped her on the forehead that Cheyenne's limbs began toregain some strength.

When she decided to use the final needle, she only had a ten percent certainty. But as a doctor, andwith Iker as the patient, she couldn't afford to show any fear.

The sound of rushing water filled the bathroom, and the damp air now carried a faint stench. Thiswas the pus and blood flowing out.

Iker, who had fainted from the excruciating pain, had no idea that he had once again appeared infront of others, thoroughly cleaned.

Tanner and Omari didn't even bother with bath towels. They simply scooped him up and carried himto the bedroom.

At Davon's Estate, the man was dressed in a white bathrobe, with a slightly open collar revealing atantalizing snippet of his tanned neck and delicate collarbones. He sat silently behind the desk,holding a small black circular box in his well-defined, large hands. A red light shimmered within thedarkness, giving it an eerie appearance.

A faint, intermittent rustling sound emanated from the small black box, which was no bigger than apalm, but the source of the sound remained unclear in the dimly lit room.

Davon could faintly hear a few key phrases coming from inside the room.

"Treatment for the leg."

"Pull."

"..."

There was also the sound of water and laughter, which led to a bizarre thought crossing his mind:Was Iker's leg getting better?

The air was thick with restlessness, but the elderly man sitting across from Davon appeared calmand sipped his tea. In his other hand, he held two silver spheres, each about the size of a walnut,with smooth surfaces that indicated they had been frequently handled and played with.

"Master Davon, there's no need to worry too much. I'm certain that in this world, nobody could havelearned the complete Thirteen Needles technique. No one could save Master Iker's leg."

Davon, hearing his confident words, finally felt some relief. However, he still had his doubts anddecided to investigate the matter tomorrow.

Adrian, on the other hand, thought it was unnecessary, but he realized that this was a perfectopportunity to test Layne's skills. So, he agreed.

The following day, Cheyenne, expended most of her energy treating Master Iker the previous night,slept until well into the morning. The voices downstairs drew her attention, and it took her a while toremember who the owner of the voice was.

Granduncle!

Why was he here?

Cheyenne hurriedly changed out of her nightgown and into a wine-red silk dress with a V-neck.Golden chains adorned the shoulder straps, highlighting her delicate, fair shoulders. Her long,seaweed hair was braided into a fishbone plait, with a matching red satin butterfly bow for both asexy and cute touch.

When she appeared, everyone's eyes brightened. Omari, in particular, fell silent, gazing at her inamazement as she walked towards him.

Davon, seated on the couch, appeared unmoved, but the strong spark of interest that flickeredbriefly in his eyes didn't escape Omari's notice. As men, they understood each other well. Theintrusive nature of that look left a deep impression on him.

This awareness prompted Omari to squint his eyes, shift his body to block Davon's view, and denyhim that sight. The latter, aware of Omari's childish behavior, smiled discreetly and withdrew hisgaze gracefully.

Cheyenne, meanwhile, couldn't help but notice a guest who had no business being there, sitting atthe other end of the couch.

She approached and greeted him politely. "Granduncle? What a pleasant surprise; I didn't expectyou to visit."

The elderly man nodded and smiled kindly at Cheyenne. "I came uninvited, my dear grandniece,please don't blame me."

Cheyenne smiled back. "Of course not."

As she spoke, her gaze naturally fell upon the black velvet-covered box on the table, exuding an airof mystery. She couldn't help but wonder, "What's inside?"