Chapter 173 Where to Place the Needle

• Charlotte often did acupuncture for Nathan. She knew every major point on his body like the back of her hand. When she worked, her hands were dead-on and steady. In a blink, before Old Mr. Quille could even react, Nathan’s body was covered with silver needles. Each thick, long needle caught the light and flashed cold, looking a little savage. That brief moment was nothing to outsiders, but to Nathan, it stretched on forever, like a knife between the shoulder blades. Every time Charlotte pierced a point, a brutal ache and swelling surged through the spot. It hurt worse than every round of needles he’d ever taken before combined. He almost let out a grunt. Worse, Charlotte kept lifting her eyes to check his face while she worked. It tore him up. His body was screaming, but he had to grit his teeth and pretend he felt nothing. You can school your expression, sure—but your body’s reflexes tell on you. Sweat beaded on Nathan’s forehead in fat drops, and his face turned paper-white. It was the first time Old Mr. Quille had watched Charlotte needle someone up close. His heart pounded, his breath went thin. Still, he knew Charlotte was a miracle doctor. His grandson looked pitiful right now, but this had to be part of Ms. Sherrod’s plan. After Charlotte ran needles through several major points, there was only one area left… Charlotte’s gaze slid lower. The cold sweat on Nathan’s brow came harder. She brought her eyes back. She’d placed so many needles, yet Nathan hadn’t reacted at all. Didn’t look like faking. Didn’t look like recovering, either. More like critical. In that case, the Guanyuan point and the sensitive points below it had to be treated. Charlotte set her fingers on the edge of Nathan’s underwear. She didn’t yank them down right away. Instead, she turned to glance at Old Mr. Quille. He got it. He nodded, helpless, knuckles whitening around his cane. His whole body went tense, eyes fixed. And then Nathan’s last shred of modesty was gone—Charlotte took off the underwear. Nathan, the genius who ruled the market, was hit with the biggest humiliation of his adult life. He ground his teeth. Rage burned through him, ready to blow. He swore that the day he truly woke up, he’d make Charlotte—this woman who didn’t know the height of the sky—pay. His jawline tightened hard enough to cut. Luckily for him, the two people in the room weren’t looking at his face, or he’d be busted. Old Mr. Quille watched Charlotte strip his grandson, then lift a silver needle, about to go in. He blurted, “Hold on!” Charlotte turned, her eyes asking what was wrong. No man wants to watch needles jab that area. You feel the pain just imagining it. Old Mr. Quille said, “Dr. Sherrod, go easy. Nathan’s the only direct grandson of the Quille family.” Charlotte understood. She soothed him, “Don’t worry. If your grandson’s hardware stops working, I’ll take full responsibility.” Old Mr. Quille’s nerves eased a notch. He nodded. But the moment Charlotte moved to needle him, the old man called out again, “Wait!” Charlotte paused and looked over. “Old Mr. Quille, what now?” The old man had dominated the business world for decades, but he’d never faced a scene that made sweat pop on his brow like this. He said, “I won’t watch you do it. I’m stepping out. Then you can continue.”