The Unlucky Turn by Mark Twain 51

The man hesitated. Instead of his real name, he gave his dark web ID: “Pigeon.”

Leilani nodded, indifferent to his anonymity. Her primary concern was creating a file for medication tracking and follow-up reviews. After recording his basic vitals, Leilani took out her set of silver needles and began inspecting them. Under the sterilization lamp, the tips gleamed with a cold, sharp light.

Lying on the treatment table, Pigeon’s breathing hitched. He eyed the needles nervously, clearly resistant to the idea of acupuncture.

Sensing his anxiety, Leilani explained his condition calmly to distract him. “Relax. Acupuncture isn’t as painful as you imagine.”

Her voice was steady as her fingers pressed a specific point on the inside of his wrist. Before he had time to hesitate, she inserted a needle into a point on his leg. Twisting it slightly, her touch remained steady yet gentle.

“Hss-”

Pigeon hissed through his teeth, bracing himself, but the anticipated agony didn’t come. Instead, a soothing warmth radiated from the needle’s tip, melting away the tension deep in his body. The sensation was strange, but his nervousness vanished instantly.

Leilani didn’t look up, fully focused as she picked up another hair-thin needle. She carefully targeted a point near his liver area, softly inserting the needle.

Pigeon felt a sour, distending sensation spread from his back to his ribs. The area around his liver, which had been dull with pain, felt as if an invisible hand were kneading it, dissipating the stagnation.

Leilani’s movements were fluid and precise, as if her fingertips had a built-in navigation system sensing every inch of his meridians.

The final needle landed on a specific point on the foot. The tip vibrated slightly. Pigeon suddenly coughed up a mouthful of dark blood, but immediately, his chest felt lighter, and his breathing became effortless.

“Part of the toxin has been expelled, but your liver damage requires recuperation.” She removed the needles and handed him a wet wipe for the blood. “I’ll give you a prescription shortly. Take the medicine for seven days.”

That’s it? Pigeon wiped the blood from his lip, bewildered. The treatment had taken only half an hour; he had expected to be stuck with needles all day.

“Treatment must be gradual. Your detoxification will require at least five sessions. You might

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experience some normal detox reactions after taking the medicine, so don’t panic,” Leilani explained, handing him a sheet with instructions. “If anything uncertain occurs, call me.”

Pigeon took the paper, looking at her with a complicated expression. “… How did you know I work in a pharmaceutical lab?”

Leilani sterilized her needles one by one, her tone indifferent. “Liver stagnation, a thready and choppy pulse-classic symptoms of long-term exposure to chemical toxins.”

This “Phantom Doctor” really was impressive; she even understood chemical pathology. Pigeon was glad he hadn’t let prejudice drive him away earlier. A doctor this skilled was hard to find.

Seeing that Pigeon wanted to chat, Leilani interrupted him and gestured towards the card reader. “Consultation fee, thank you.”

Pigeon stared at her for a few seconds before taking out his phone.

“Ding!”

A notification sound chimed, indicating a transaction: Five million had been deposited into

her account.

Leilani glanced at the screen, the corners of her lips curving slightly. “Pleasure doing

business.”

Before leaving, Pigeon asked if Leilani was accepting other orders.

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