Return of the Crowned Heiress

The most striking feature about the man on the bed was his enormously swollen stomach which resembled a pregnant woman’s.

Felicia felt that the man seemed almost like a fictional character. She held back her reaction, but the other physicians and assistants couldn’t contain themselves and burst into laughter.

The man on the bed was furious to hear the laughter. “Hey! Do you guys have any medical ethics at all? Hold it in, and no laughing!”

His words only sent them laughing harder. “Sorry! We didn’t mean to, but we just can’t help it

Clive turned and scolded them, “What’s so funny? Be serious!” This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

The man on the bed was beyond frustrated. He had no choice but to endure it..

Then, Clive turned to Felicia. “Licia, check his pulse.”

“Okay,” Felicia replied, approaching the bed to extend her hand toward the man. Seeing how young she was, he didn’t trust her at all and refused to cooperate.

Felicia ignored his reluctance and grabbed his wrist to take his pulse. His pulse was unlike anything she’d ever encountered, but it was recorded in an ancient medical text she’d found as a child.

This was a clear case of negative energy invading the body.

When she shared her diagnosis, Clive was momentarily stunned. “Are you sure?”

“Positive!” Felicia nodded and unfolded her needle case to pull out a silver needle.

As she administered acupuncture, she explained, ‘Acupuncture alone won’t solve this. We also need to draw blood.”

After she spoke, she flicked the silver needle. She drew a scalpel and incised the man’s finger before he could react.

“Hey, are you sure this is going to work?” the man exclaimed with eyes full of doubt.

Clive observed from the side and was intrigued. “The blood’s black…”

As the dark blood was drawn, the man’s swollen belly shrank and came with a series of loud, embarrassing farts.

Felicia had retreated far enough to avoid the worst of it, but Clive and the physicians crowding in to observe were hit full force.

They were too stunned for words. The stench was overpowering, pungent, and downright

Chapp

nauseating.

They quickly backed away when realizing what had happened, while the man on the bed had turned red beneath his mask in embarrassment.

Felicia refused to stay any longer. She told Clive, “Grandpa, you can administer the acupuncture. I’ll be waiting for you outside.”

With that, she slipped out of the room.

Clive grumbled and asked one of the assistants for a mask. Then, he pointed at the other physicians. “Go ahead. I’ll supervise.”

“Mr. Walsh Senior, you should do it. You’re the expert.”

They’d usually fight to showcase their skills, but they were now all eager to give up on the chance.

Nearly overwhelmed by the stench, Clive grumbled at the assistants for not bringing gas masks. The assistants felt wronged as they hadn’t anticipated such a scene either.

Despite Clive’s complaints, he stepped forward to administer acupuncture.

Out in the hotel corridor, Felicia sensed the stench wafting toward her. She kept walking further away until she found herself at the end of the corridor.

This was

another presidential suite, but all the lights around it were oddly out. Other areas were plunged into complete darkness, and it was eerily quiet.