"The shape, the weight, the color… this matches the ancient records exactly..."
Acupuncture used to be ace of the medical world, back when the Eastern continent had a thriving civilization. But, as the eastern continent was destroyed due to plagues and combined with wars, the technique had disappeared from the world, and became a lost knowledge for the past few centuries.
Yes, there are rumors that acupuncture still exists somewhere in the islands around the eastern continent, even now, but it is located on the other side of the world; in the end, they were only rumors.
Yet this girl…
This fifteen-year-old girl had just casually lifted a full set of needles.
Without even acknowledging the shock behind her, Zora plucked one needle between her fingers and pierced Philip's acupoint with perfect precision.
Then another.
Then another.
Her movements were clean, decisive, and elegant.
Not even a tremor was seen during the entire process.
Every doctor's heartbeat rose to their throat.
This was the Prince… if anything went wrong, they would all be implicated.
But Rolant did not stop her.
His gaze narrowed, watching every motion from every angle.
He saw no hesitation.
And that alone made his chest tighten with fierce admiration.
When the tenth needle slid in, and the Prince still showed no sign of pain, people began to murmur in disbelief.
For three days, even the faintest touch had made Philip scream in agony, yet under her needles, he slept peacefully.
Impossible.
It was miraculous.
Soon, Philip's entire upper body shimmered with silver needles.
Then...
"Ha," someone gasped.
All the needles began trembling at once, vibrating under her fingers as if alive.
"The Twitching Technique"
"The legendary technique"
"It really exists."
Doctors who had practiced medicine for decades nearly cried.
Seeing a lost technique of the east revived before them, it felt like witnessing history rewrite itself.
Aurelius's face froze mid-sneer.
He stared at the needles, then at the girl, then at the needles again.
His fat face twisted like dough, and he suddenly felt like the stupidest man alive.
He had bragged.
He had ridiculed.
He had mocked.
And now, he had just slapped himself louder than anyone else ever could.
As the trembling needles finally stilled, Philip's swelling visibly shrank; his breath steadied; the whimpers of pain faded.
Hope flared across Rolant's weary face.
They had all expected to die with the Prince today.
Now, a miracle stood before them.
Zora drew a sheet of paper from her medicine box and quickly wrote a list of herbs.
"Mister," she said calmly, "you should have these prepared."
Rolant almost felt emotional. "Yes, it will be ready immediately… Doctor." He addressed her with respect.
"Boil three bowls down to one. Feed His Highness three times a day."
"You heard her, Quick"
A young apprentice sprinted out with the prescription.
Not one person questioned her.
Age, rank, status… everything collapsed under the weight of what they had just witnessed.
Genius doctors were rare.
But a genius doctor who could revive ancient techniques…
Such a person was not to be doubted.
*
Meanwhile, Philip, who had been drowning in agony for three days, suddenly felt… relief.
The burning, tearing pain that had ripped through every inch of his skin dulled, softened like a tide finally ebbing.
His eyelids trembled, heavy as mountains, and with great effort, he pried them open.
Through the blur of pain and exhaustion, a white silhouette appeared before him.
A gentle figure.
A quiet glow.
A porcelain-like face blurred by the haze of tears.
In that moment, he thought he saw a celestial maiden descend softly, distant, beautiful enough to ease suffering with presence alone.
His lips parted as if wanting to call to her, but no sound came.
The moment he forced his eyes open… he slipped into sleep again, too weak to hold consciousness.
When the final needle was removed and the last touch completed, everyone in the room slowly exhaled.
It felt like they had just lived through a storm.
Rolant hurried forward and placed his fingers on Philip's wrist.
A heartbeat later, his tense shoulders loosened.
The pulse that had been wild and chaotic before was now smooth, steady, even strong.
It was unmistakable that the Prince had escaped death.
He straightened and turned toward Zora with a deep and respectful tone. "I do not know how to address the young girl."
She bowed slightly. "Junior Doctor, Zora, of Origin Medical Hall."
For some reason, hearing her call herself "junior" made Rolant's face heat with shame.
He had lived decades, studied medicine for half a lifetime, and had not matched even a fraction of what she displayed today.
Every doctor quietly engraved her name into their hearts.
Zora.
The girl who revived ancient acupuncture.
A doctor so young yet extraordinary beyond reason.
"Wait a second. Origin Medical Hall?" Rolant suddenly remembered something. He asked tentatively, "The medical hall recently opened with loud fanfare… It's yours, right?"
Zora nodded with a gentle, composed smile like a lotus blooming untouched by dust. "It opened only a few days ago."
At the mention of the clinic, everyone's expressions twisted strangely.
Origin Medical Hall?
The new medical hall, everyone mocked because its doctor was "a little girl."
They thought it was because the doctor is young and some rich lady who opened it for a time pass. So, that doctor is actually this young girl?
And now that the so-called little girl was standing here, saving a prince's life in front of all of them.
A wave of collective embarrassment washed through the room.
"It seems," Rolant said with a deep laugh, "the Imperial City truly had eyes yet could not recognize a dragon."
Zora merely smiled and turned her gaze toward another corner of the hall, where a certain fat man was trying to hide.
"Doctor Piggy," she said pleasantly, clearly kicking him with an insult when he is already down, "your wager… you've prepared it, yes?"
Aurelius's face instantly collapsed.
One hundred thousand gold coins.
Everything he owned.
Gone. Just like that?
All because of one sentence spoken with arrogance.
He wanted to disappear into the floor.
"Aurelius," Rolant then said coldly, "we all saw and heard the bet. Don't tell me you intend to go back on your word?"
A heavy silence fell over the room.
Everyone's eyes turned toward Aurelius as if they were waiting to hear him announce that he had lost.
Aurelius stiffened like a trapped rat.
When he turned to leave, someone had already stepped in front of the door, folding their arms. There would be no escape.
"I didn't bring so much money today," Aurelius blurted out.
"It's fine," Zora said with a charming, almost lazy smile. "You can send the money later. But…"
Her voice slowed.
"The apology can begin now."
Her graceful finger tapped the air lightly. "So many doctors gathered here. It's much easier to apologize to all of them at once. If you wait until later, you'll have to go house to house. Very tiring."
The room trembled with barely restrained laughter.
Aurelius felt his soul leave his body.
There was no way out.
The doctors blocking the door would break his legs if he tried to flee.
His face darkened like mold.
Finally, with humiliation he'd never tasted in his life, he squeezed the words out between his teeth.
"Sorry."
Zora blinked innocently. "What? Your voice was so soft. No one heard a thing."