Chapter 220
The private room door swung open. Zinnia’s cheeks were deathly pale, her whole body trembling with exhaustion. Charlie was practically holding her up; she could barely stand on her own. Her hands hung limply at her sides, trembling uncontrollably. Her lips were drained of all color, patches of skin bitten raw and marked with faint bloodstains.
Yannis sprang forward to catch Zinnia, his worst fears confirmed. Looking down at her in his arms, his heart clenched. The healthy, rosy glow he had painstakingly restored to her cheeks vanished in an instant, leaving her as pale as when they first met.
“Zinnia,” Sofia’s eyes turned red with heartache at the sight of Zinnia’s face, not even remembering to ask about Henry.
“Grandma, Grandpa is all right now. Don’t worry,” Zinnia managed in a feeble voice. But as the dizziness overwhelmed her, she couldn’t hold on any longer. Her vision blurred and she collapsed forward, her head landing against Yannis’s chest.
Yannis scooped Zinnia up in his arms, pressing her head tightly against his chest. Feeling her feather-light weight, his heart twisted with pain. The hand hanging limply at her side was wrapped in thick bandages, with faint traces of blood seeping through.
“What’s wrong with Zinnia?” Her sudden collapse threw the whole family into a panic.
Charlie’s eyes filled with heartache. “Zinnia is completely exhausted. Mr. Spence said she should go home and get some proper rest.”
Turning to Sofia, he added gently, “Grandma, Grandpa is fine now. He just needs some time to recover. Mr. Spence is inside finishing the final procedures; you can go in and see him now.”
Charlie glanced back at the open operating room, where Raymond was completing the final procedures. Zinnia had pushed herself to the limit and simply couldn’t hold on any longer, so Raymond had to take over.
The Flowing Technique was so difficult to master that very few ever succeeded. It was nearly impossible to remember all the needle insertion points, let alone insert hundreds of needles in sequence. A single misplaced needle meant starting the entire process over from scratch.
More importantly, it completely drained the user’s mental and physical energy.
The silver needles were so fine that even the slightest lapse in concentration would make people’s vision blur. Most people with poor stamina couldn’t endure it at all. After six hours, the user’s hands turned to jelly.
“Yannis, let me go with you to take Zinnia home,” Charlie said, glancing at Yannis, who was holding Zinnia.
Yannis strode out with Zinnia in his arms, Charlie hurrying behind.
Yannis held Zinnia tightly in the back seat, refusing to let go. Each time he loosened his grip, she would frown. Gently lifting her hand, thickly wrapped in bandages, he examined it and asked, his voice edged with concern, “What’s wrong with her hand?”
Charlie said, “Zinnia accidentally hurt her hand. The wound is quite deep. She gets faint at the sight of blood, so when you change her dressing, make sure she doesn’t see any.”
Knowing about Zinnia’s unique condition, Charlie kept it to himself. He would never tell a soul. He simply reminded Yannis how to properly care for her.
Yannis knew Charlie wasn’t telling the whole truth. His gaze lingered on Zinnia’s hand – normally so soft and delicate, now deathly pale without a trace of color, like that of someone gravely ill.
Yannis’s heart ached as he gently caressed her icy-cold fingers. ‘She’s so cold… Is she just too exhausted?’ he wondered, noticing how her hand kept trembling.
He clasped one of her hands tightly between his own to warm it, and then slid her other hand into his pocket, hoping his body heat would help.
Charlie watched Zinnia with deep concern etched on his face. Zinnia had never been in robust health, and after losing blood, she hadn’t had a chance to recover properly. Yet she pushed herself to the limit, performing the Flowing Technique for six grueling hours straight. Her body was never strong enough to handle such prolonged exhaustion. She was running on sheer willpower, and when Henry was out of danger, that final thread of willpower snapped, and her consciousness gave way.
Charlie and Yannis didn’t leave after bringing Zinnia back to her room. They kept vigil by her bedside; Charlie refused to go until she woke up.
In the dead of night, Zinnia spiked a high fever. They gave her fever reducers, and by the time her temperature finally broke, dawn was approaching.
Noticing the exhaustion on Charlie’s face, Yannis said gently, “You should go back and check on Henry. I’ll stay here and take care of Zinnia.”
“Alright. I’ll head back first to check on Grandpa. Call me when Zinnia wakes up,” Charlie said. He was genuinely worried about Henry and knew he had to go back.
“Mm,” Yannis acknowledged as Charlie left. He moved to the bedside, where Zinnia lay. Her delicate face was still deathly pale.
Her lips were dry. Yannis picked up the water glass from the nightstand, took a cotton swab, dipped it in water, and gently moistened her lips. Then he brushed his fingers against her cheek – her skin was still ice-cold. His eyes brimmed with heartache.
Yannis thought with a pang, ‘The Flowing Technique – so few ever master it in a lifetime, yet Zinnia learned it before even coming of age. She saved Henry, but at what cost? Now she’s reduced to this frail shadow of herself.’
Yannis was also familiar with the Flowing Technique. Henry had told him that performing it was extremely mentally draining. Just a moment’s inattention could leave the practitioner bedridden for hours, struggling to catch their breath.
Zinnia was already in delicate health. Doctors had warned her against mental strain. Yet she’d just spent six straight hours performing the Flowing Technique. Just looking at those hundreds of needle placements would leave most people dizzy, but she couldn’t afford even a single misstep.
Zinnia slept for what felt like an eternity, with Yannis keeping vigil by her bedside the entire time. It wasn’t until dusk that she finally stirred awake.
Her eyelids fluttered open to a room bathed in gentle, warm light. Staring up at the familiar ceiling, Zinnia floated in a haze, utterly disoriented. She couldn’t tell whether it was dawn or dusk, or even what day it was.
“You’re awake.” Yannis’s cool, quiet voice reached her ears. Zinnia turned her head; a sharp ache shot through her neck. She winced. After six hours hunched over like that, her neck was unbearably sore.
Trying to sit up, she found her whole body drained of strength. Even lifting the blanket was a struggle; her hands trembled weakly, utterly useless.
Every bone in her body ached. She weakly turned her eyes toward the door, hoping someone would come in.
Yannis walked in carrying a bowl, his expression grim – eyes cold and intense, almost intimidating.
“Yannis…” Zinnia’s head spun as she caught the stern look on his face. Her lips quivered in a pout, every inch of her body aching. In her weakened state, she couldn’t help but act a little spoiled.
Seeing her pouting pitifully and hearing her frail, soft voice, Yannis couldn’t keep a straight face any longer. A look of heartache flashed across his eyes.
He hurried to the bedside. “What’s wrong? Still hurting somewhere? Let me check,” he said gently. After setting the fragrant soup on the nightstand, Yannis bent down and carefully helped Zinnia sit up, supporting her against his chest.
“Yannis, I feel awful,” Zinnia whimpered, trying to pull her hand out from under the blanket. But her hand was as limp as overcooked noodles – she had no strength at all.
She knew it was the aftermath of the Flowing Technique. For a long time, she wouldn’t be able to lift anything heavy or manage even simple tasks with her hands.
“Where does it hurt? I’ll call the doctor,” Yannis said, his heart clenching at the sound of her pitiful whimper. Worry clouded his eyes as he immediately grabbed his phone to summon medical help.
“My hands are so sore and weak,” Zinnia whimpered in a tiny, pitiful voice. “My head is pounding and I feel dizzy, my neck aches, and my throat’s parched. I really want some water. Yannis, I feel like I’m falling apart.”
Having known Yannis for so long, she didn’t bother hiding her misery. These were all just aftereffects of the Flowing Technique.