She Became Rich After Divorce

Chapter 633: I'll Take the Poison for Her

The sweet mutual trust between the two left the onlookers stunned and envious, wondering why Cheyenne deserved the affection of so many high-quality men?

Then, in front of everyone, Cheyenne took out her silver needles and displayed the Edwards family's exquisite skill.

It was rumored that in the past century, no one had reached the highest level in the Wind Hall. Adrian claimed to have mastered it, but he was already in his seventies. How old was Cheyenne? Twenty-one or twenty-two, an age when most people were still considered beginners. Could she really perform the Thirteen Needles? Or was it just a gimmick, a setup that would backfire?

Emily sneered and taunted her, "Some people put on airs, but they might end up with egg on their face."

Cheyenne remained unperturbed and lightly parted her red lips, disdainfully saying, "Whether it's real or fake, Miss Davidson will see for herself."

With that, she opened the bundle in her hand. Rows of silver needles of various lengths and sizes neatly lined up, presenting themselves to the audience. Lucien sat cross-legged, and Cheyenne inserted the needles into specific points on his body.

As soon as the needles were inserted, Lucien felt as if his head was about to explode. His scalp tingled, and his entire body seemed to have blood flowing in the opposite direction, causing his meridians to burn with pain.

It seemed he had underestimated Cheyenne and the Edwards family's Thirteen Needles. Adrian's gaze remained fixed on Cheyenne's technique, with an expression of shock.

No, this wasn't the Thirteen Needles, but a new technique, one he had never seen before. When had his grandniece developed her own set of needle techniques? Truly, it filled him with pleasant surprise. With visible speed, Iker's once fair complexion started turning a pale shade of green. Veins bulged on his broad forehead, twisted like sturdy earthworms, and furrows appeared on his forehead. Beads of sweat as large as soybeans dripped down, staining his white shirt with irregular shades. His tense arm muscles displayed graceful and powerful lines, exuding strength.

At this moment, Iker felt as if his body were being roasted on molten lava, on the verge of evaporating, the pain making even breathing a laborious task.

However, being a former soldier who had faced life and death, he managed to maintain his composure even in the face of this excruciating pain caused by the poison. He could only keep himself from screaming out loud.

"Uh..."

Seeing his distressed appearance, Cheyenne felt even more guilty. In her retaliatory act of needling Lucien, she had unintentionally exerted more force.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Miller. It's been a long time since I've used these things, and my control might be a bit off."

At this moment, Lucien also felt uncomfortable, as if his meridians were being torn apart.

What had this cursed Cheyenne done to him? It felt as though his entire soul was being torn asunder. He sat cross-legged on the ground, continuously forming seals with his hands.

His bizarre appearance surprised everyone. What was he doing? Casting a large spell? The knowledgeable among them, however, had a clue. This was Praying Magic, the oldest magic of Jostrana's.

At first, it was a primitive way of blessing. Later, due to the internal split of the sect, many factions emerged. Among them, the black-robed wizards were the most famous.

So, Lucien was attempting to use this ancient magic to transfer his own pain to someone else in order to alleviate his own suffering.

Cheyenne picked up a silver needle and walked slowly towards Iker, her hands gently pressing on his shoulders.

She ordered him to take off his clothes.

"Take off my clothes?" Iker's face showed a somewhat awkward expression, he felt he couldn't do such a thing in public.

However, Cheyenne immediately

and sternly scolded him in a childish

tone, her almond eyes clean and

clear, without any impurities as she

looked at him and said, "Why hesitate, man? Hurry up."

Being scolded like this by her, Iker subconsciously touched his nose, and couldn't help but recall thedast time she treated him when he was ill

It was just like now.

His well-defined large hands reached for his tie, gently tugging and making the perfectly dignified tie messy.

One by one, he unbuttoned the white shirt and took it off, revealing his strong upper body.

His movements were slow, filled with an elegant and restrained temperament, causing many female audience members below to blush. Master Iker is so handsome. And his figure is great too!

One, two, three... seven, eight... Look at him, even though he's been disabled for so many years, he still has an eight-pack.

Cheyenne skillfully and quickly inserted a mid-length silver needle into various acupuncture points on his body.All rights © NôvelDrama.Org.

Before long, Iker's back was covered with silver needles, turning the fine-looking man into a hedgehog in an instant.

At the tips of the needles, wisps of white smoke emerged, slowly rising in front of them.

At the

turned

the

time, Iker's face visibly

blue to deep blue, ant

and discomfort throughout

his body made his eyes look weak.

Because the suppressed Serpent Magic inside his body began to stir, Iker's twisted face due to the pain lost its original beauty.

His painful appearance made many people feel sorry for him, but these many people did not include his sister - Sophie.

The expression on her face was nothing like what a sister should have.

She sat quietly in her chair, as if the person enduring the agony on stage had nothing to do with her.

In contrast, she was more curious about the woman Cheyenne.

Never did she expect that despite being several years younger, Cheyenne possessed such extraordinary medical skills. On the judges' panel, Gracie and Adrian were equally attentive, staring intently at every move Cheyenne made. After a while, Gracie spoke lazily and casually asked, "Adrian, how do you think Cheyenne's skills compare to yours?"