Chapter 62
Chapter 62:
“Do you want her to die?” Aurora hissed. “She has thirty seconds. Move p>
The sheer authority in her voice created a vacuum. The assistant pulled back.
Aurora moved with blur-like speed. She didn’t hesitate. She inserted three needles into specific acupoints on Yinn’s chest and one right between her eyebrows.
She twisted the needles. The gold caught the light, a secret flash.
Then, she forced Yinn’s jaw open and slipped a small, brown pill—her own herbal concoction for emergency circulation—under the woman’s tongue.
The crowd murmured. “Voodoo,” someone whispered. “Witchcraft p>
Seconds ticked by. Five. Ten.
Yinn’s face remained grey.
“It’s not working,” the assistant sobbed.
Suddenly, Yinn’s body arched. She took a massive, gasping breath, like a diver breaking the surface.
HIJUUUH.
Color flooded back into her cheeks. Her eyes fluttered open.
The crowd gasped. The phones zoomed in.
Sirens wailed in the distance.
Aurora checked the pulse again. It was stabilizing.
She quickly retrieved her needles, wiping them clean on an alcohol pad and rolling them back into the pouch before anyone could get a clear shot of the unique gold tools.
“Keep her upright,” Aurora told the stunned assistant. “Don’t let her lie flat p>
She stood up, pulling her collar up. She grabbed her bag, the azure and gold scarf fluttering distinctly in the wind, and slipped into the alley just as the ambulance turned the corner.
I@†e$t ¢н@₽†əя$ ¡η ğ∆łиøvεℓś.cøm
On the ground, Catherine Yinn reached out a weak hand toward the retreating figure. Her vision was blurry, but she saw the glint of gold and the silhouette of the coat. And the flash of blue silk.
“Angel…” Yinn whispered, before darkness took her again.
The private suite at Mount Sinai Hospital was quiet, save for the rhythmic beeping of monitors. Professor Catherine Yinn was sitting up in bed, looking pale but alert.
Her son, Charles Yinn, the CEO of a major tech firm, was pacing the room.
“The doctors said it was a miracle you survived the blockage,” Charles said, running a hand through his hair. “They said your heart just… restarted p>
Catherine shook her head. “It wasn’t luck, Charles. It was a girl. She had gold needles p>
Charles frowned. “Acupuncture? Mom, you were in cardiac arrest. That sounds like a hallucination p>
“It was real,” Catherine insisted. “I felt the heat. Find her, Charles. I owe her my life p>
Charles sighed, but he pulled out his phone. “I’ll have security pull the street cam footage p>
Across the city, in the sleek glass conference room of Pulse Interactive, Victor King was pacing.
“We need to dominate the educational simulation market,” Victor said, slamming his hand on the table. “Our physics engine is superior, but Thorne has the legacy contracts with the universities. We need an endorsement that screams ‘Academic Legitimacy.’ We need Professor Catherine Yinn p>