Chapter 83: Chicken Soup for Dr. Vance

After clearing the room, Mr. Lynch’s expression instantly changed, and he looked at Amanda Vance with a wide grin.

Amanda Vance didn’t look up. She laid out all the necessary tools and said to Mr. Ford, "I’ll be teaching Mr. Lynch this time, so the needling will be a little slower."

"Alright." Mr. Ford had no objection. He and Mr. Lynch were close, so he knew the man well. He had never seen his old friend act like this. Mr. Lynch had always been proud and arrogant; even as a student, he hadn’t thought much of his classmates because he was always the best in class. No one could keep up with him.

The only other person he’d ever seen Mr. Lynch treat with such deference was his own master.

"Make sure you learn well," he couldn’t help but tease.

Mr. Lynch didn’t mind the jab. He just nodded seriously. "I will."

’His master saw him as worthy and was willing to teach him. How could he possibly not study hard?’

He had come across the Nine Revolutions Needle in ancient texts before, but the records were always incomplete. He was incredibly curious about the technique and had tried to find the full version, but to no avail. He couldn’t decipher it on his own either. He only knew its general form, but not the precise depth or location for the needles.

He had long considered it a great regret, so he never imagined he would actually get the chance to learn it today.

Mr. Lynch took a deep breath, suppressing his excitement. He focused with all his might, watching Amanda Vance’s needle placement and technique, committing every detail to memory.

The Nine Revolutions Needle Technique was difficult to learn, so Amanda explained it meticulously, making every detail and its function perfectly clear.

Mr. Lynch’s own medical skills were exceptional, so with just a little guidance, he could connect the dots and understand. Even so, he didn’t dare to be complacent and listened with intense focus.

A needling session that would normally take ten minutes ended up taking Amanda over half an hour. She turned to Mr. Lynch and asked, "Did you get all that?"

Mr. Lynch replayed the process in his mind and suddenly realized he had only absorbed about thirty percent of it. If he were asked to perform the technique himself right now, he wouldn’t be able to do it.

This realization left him dejected, and he wondered if his memory and comprehension were declining due to his age.

But Amanda shook her head. "The Nine Revolutions Needle Technique is incredibly profound. If it were that easy to learn, it wouldn’t have become a lost art."

Acupuncture is more than just knowing the location of acupoints, and that’s even truer for the Nine Revolutions Needle Technique. Stimulating the body’s maximum potential energy is by no means a simple task.

Saving lives is never simple.

"Learning thirty percent in one go is already excellent. When we get back, I’ll diagram the technique for you. You can study it and watch me a few more times. If you can master seventy to eighty percent of it, that will be more than enough."

Mr. Lynch wasn’t offended by her words. He had always known that while traditional medicine required hard work, it required talent even more. Perhaps this was his limit—mastering the Nine Revolutions Needle Technique to that degree. And, just as she said, that was more than enough.

It would be a significant improvement on his current skills, and a major step forward.

Since he had chosen to become her student, he would accept his place.

Seeing his calm acceptance, Amanda nodded to herself in approval. ’Perhaps because he’s experienced so much, Mr. Lynch has an excellent mindset.’

She said no more and lowered her head, slowly manipulating the needles as beads of sweat began to form on her forehead.

Another half an hour passed before Amanda finally let out a long breath. "Alright, we’re done."

"Let me remove the needles," Mr. Lynch offered, stepping forward.

"Okay."

The immense drain on one’s stamina was a side effect of the Nine Revolutions Needle Technique. It was one of the reasons Mr. Lynch would likely only ever master seventy to eighty percent of it.

If one’s stamina was insufficient, they would likely collapse before the treatment was even finished.

Unless absolutely necessary, Amanda was reluctant to use the Nine Revolutions Needle Technique.

The reason was simple: after performing the technique, she wouldn’t be able to do anything else for the rest of the day except sleep to regain her strength.

After Mr. Lynch finished removing and sterilizing the needles, he placed them back in their case. Seeing that his old friend had fallen asleep, he didn’t wake him. A nap would do him good right now, helping him better cultivate the vital energy she had gathered.

Amanda didn’t stay either, opening the door and stepping out.

The moment she opened the door, she saw Samuel Ford, Shawn Ford, and Mrs. Ford standing right outside.

"How’s my dad?" Shawn asked anxiously, rushing forward the moment he saw her.

"Everything went smoothly. He’s sleeping now. Let him rest, don’t wake him."

"Right, right, okay." Hearing this, Shawn immediately lowered his voice. Just as he was about to ask another question, he was suddenly pulled back. He turned, confused, to look at the person beside him.

Samuel Ford ignored him, his eyes on Amanda. "Dr. Vance, you should go get some rest."

At his words, Mrs. Ford also noticed how alarmingly pale Amanda was. She looked utterly exhausted. Mrs. Ford quickly chimed in, "That’s right, Megan, you should hurry and get some rest. We’ll watch things here."

"I’ll keep an eye on him. You go get some sleep," Mr. Lynch added.

The old principal was in the adjacent room. Hearing the commotion, his wife came out. After listening to the exchange, she took Amanda by the arm and led her toward their room. "There are two beds in here. Go lie down for a while."

Amanda didn’t stand on ceremony with them. She gratefully lay down on the bed and was asleep in moments.

Her face was deathly pale, and the sight made the principal’s wife’s heart ache. She sat down beside her husband, sighed, and said softly, "Sometimes, I wish Megan weren’t quite so capable."

The more capable one is, the more they must bear. Talented people always carry heavier burdens than ordinary folk.

Of course, the rewards are greater too, be it fame or fortune.

But compared to all that, she cared more about whether her child was living well.

The old principal understood what she meant. He felt for Amanda too, but he didn’t quite agree. He shook his head. "Megan is a girl who knows her own mind. She’s naturally gifted and works incredibly hard. For someone like that to live an ordinary life would be unfair to her."

The principal’s wife considered this, then smiled. "I suppose I’m being short-sighted."

The old principal expertly played his part. "It’s only because you care so much."

Samuel Ford returned more than two hours later. He gave a nod to the old principal and his wife, his gaze falling on Amanda, who was asleep on the bed.

She slept very still, her hands resting neatly at her sides, her posture unchanged. She looked incredibly peaceful.

He found he couldn’t look away.

The old principal and his wife exchanged a glance. Before they could say anything, Samuel spoke first. "My family made some chicken soup. I brought some for Dr. Vance."

Following his words, their gazes shifted downward to the thermos in his hand. He really had brought chicken soup.

The principal’s wife went over and took it from him. "Thank you. I’ll just put it on the nightstand for now and give it to Megan when she wakes up."

"Yes, thank you, ma’am."

"It’s no trouble at all."

’Was it just her imagination, or did he glance at Megan one last time before he left?’ When she tried to get a better look, he had already looked away, his expression as impassive as ever, betraying nothing.

He nodded to the principal’s wife. "I’ll be going then. I’ll come back to discuss my father’s condition with Dr. Vance after she wakes up."

"Alright."

’So, he was just concerned about his father?’

’She had definitely been overthinking things.’