The Unlucky Turn by Mark Twain 73

If she didn’t have such intimate knowledge of the human body, she wouldn’t dare strike with such speed; one wrong move with those needles could be fatal.

But more than her skill, it was her posture that caught Callahan’s attention. Her walk and that aura of detached arrogance felt inexplicably familiar. Who did she remind him of?

Callahan frowned, unable to place it. Staring at the unremarkable face on the screen and listening to her slightly raspy voice, he couldn’t piece it together. Perhaps it was just an

illusion.

Inside the suite, Leilani finished the first stage of treatment. She sterilized and packed away. her needles, fed the patient an antidote pill, and sat on the sofa to log the condition in her

notebook.

“Gunshot wound unhealed, toxin invaded the nervous system causing coma. Requires three acupuncture sessions and detoxifying herbal decoctions.”

Closing the notebook, she looked up at the camera. “The patient’s condition is more complex than anticipated, but manageable. I’m done for today. Treatment will continue for another three to four days. I’ll return at the same time tomorrow.”

The man had told her she could leave as soon as she was finished. Since it was the first session, it had taken longer than usual, and the sky outside had turned from bright to dark.

Leilani packed her medical box, confirmed the patient’s vitals were stable, and prepared to

leave.

“Escort her back to her room,” Callahan ordered his men via the intercom. “And prepare a thank-you gift.”

The bodyguard nodded and presented a sleek black box to Leilani. “A token of our boss’s appreciation. He also promises that if you cure this man, you’ll receive not only the agreed fee but additional benefits.”

Leilani glanced at the box. It didn’t look overly ostentatious, which was acceptable. She took it and nodded slightly. “Thank your boss for me.”

She left with a calm stride, seemingly uninterested in the gift.

However, back in her room, when she opened the box, her gaze sharpened. Lying on the velvet lining was an antique silver needle with intricate floral engravings on the tail-shockingly similar to her own set.

Leilani ran her finger over the cold metal. The craftsmanship was exquisite, clearly the work of a master.

The man in the bed must be incredibly important to the employer for them to give such a

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gift. A hundred million in fees, rare herbs sourced in hours, and now this… Such a grand gesture was beyond the reach of any ordinary wealthy family. The employer’s wealth and background were unfathomable.

For the first time, Leilani felt a spark of curiosity about who the employer really was.

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