"You told me to get lost?" Lin Xia pointed at herself, her beautiful eyes widening in disbelief.
"Xia Mo, calm down. As long as you can help heal Big Sister's hand, we can agree to any conditions. Or you can name your price," Lin Ying quickly interjected, sensing the rising tension in the room.
Yang Mo sneered. "Fine. Ten million dollars. Transfer that amount to me, and I'll tell you how to cure her hand."
"Ten million?!" Lin Xia was stunned. For someone like Yang Mo, who had grown up in difficult circumstances, even demanding one or two hundred thousand would have been considered audacious. But ten million?
"Yang Mo, I'm warning you—don't go too far! Do you even understand the power of the Lin family?" Lin Xia's voice carried a sharp, threatening edge.
In the past, whenever she got angry, Yang Mo would immediately bow his head, smile apologetically, and even kneel to beg for her forgiveness. But not anymore.
"Threatening me? Fine. Twenty million now," Yang Mo said coldly. "And if you say another word, I won't heal her at all. Don't blame me if by tomorrow, her hand becomes completely useless."
Lin Xia was trembling with rage, unable to say anything in return.
"Fine. Twenty million. I'll pay it. But first, treat my sister's hand," Lin Ying conceded. For the Lin family, this sum wasn't too significant. Right now, the priority was healing Lin Xia's hand.
"Good. First, transfer the money to my account." Yang Mo pulled out a bank card from his pocket.
"This is a large sum. It needs to go through the company's financial system. Heal her first, and I'll make sure the transfer goes through as soon as we return. I'll keep my word," Lin Ying assured him.
Yang Mo stared at her for a moment, then nodded. He knew the Lin family wouldn't hesitate to pay the amount.
Without another word, he walked back inside. When he returned, he was holding an embroidery needle in one hand and a lighter in the other. He briefly sterilized the needle with the flame.
Seeing this, both sisters were visibly alarmed.
"Yang Mo, what are you doing? You don't actually plan to stab my sister with that, do you?!" Lin Ying gasped in shock.
She had seen traditional Chinese acupuncture methods before, but those involved fine, specialized needles—not a crude embroidery needle! If someone wasn't well-versed in medical science and meridian points, blindly inserting needles could cause severe damage.
"Yeah, so what? Give me your hand," Yang Mo said nonchalantly, waving toward Lin Xia.
"Are you serious?!" Lin Xia hesitated, her expression filled with doubt.
"Either let me treat you, or forget it. I'm not wasting my time," Yang Mo said impatiently, moving to close the door.
Lin Ying quickly grabbed her sister's arm. "Big Sister, should we let him try?"
Lin Xia was sweating nervously. "I... I'm scared."
"It's better to try than to let your hand get worse!" Lin Ying insisted. Then she turned back to Yang Mo. "But I'm warning you, if you do anything to make my sister's condition worse, don't blame me for being merciless."
"Hurry up and stop wasting time," Yang Mo muttered impatiently.
Lin Xia reluctantly stretched out her hand.
Despite her nervousness, Yang Mo remained calm. He grasped her wrist firmly and, without hesitation, pricked several points on her palm with the needle. His movements were precise and deliberate.
"Alright, done. You can go now. Don't forget to transfer the money." Yang Mo casually wiped the needle clean.
Lin Xia and Lin Ying stared at him in shock.
"That's it? That easy?" Lin Ying blurted out, stunned by how quick and simple the procedure seemed.
"Yang Mo, if you're playing with my sister's health, I swear—"
"Wait! Ying, I can feel my hand again!" Lin Xia exclaimed suddenly.
Her numbness was fading. Slowly, she lifted her right hand. A moment ago, she could barely move her fingers, but now they responded freely.
"Your hand... it's healed?" Lin Ying stood frozen, her mind unable to process what had just happened.
This wasn't just a miracle—it was something that even the neurology specialists at the First People's Hospital couldn't accomplish. And yet, Yang Mo had done it in mere seconds with nothing but an embroidery needle.
Lin Ying was completely dumbfounded.
What Yang Mo had performed was not simply acupuncture—it was a precise technique he had learned in the Spirit Space. Each needle strike had to be perfectly placed, with continuous application to ensure the meridians were properly unblocked. Even the slightest deviation would render the treatment ineffective.
"Go home and rest for two days. You'll be fine," Yang Mo said, stepping back toward the door.
Before he could shut it, Lin Ying stopped him again.
"Brother, come back with us. If you just apologize to Mom and Dad, they won't say anything. I swear."
Yang Mo shook his head with a helpless smile.
"So, let me get this straight—you want me to apologize?" His voice was cold. "Alright then. What exactly did I do wrong?"
Lin Ying opened her mouth but found herself speechless. She wracked her brain, searching for something to accuse him of.
For as long as she could remember, whenever they were angry, Yang Mo was supposed to apologize—whether he was at fault or not. It was simply expected of him. But now, she was struggling to justify it.
Then, she finally thought of something.
"You shouldn't have forced us into signing that paternity severance letter!" she accused. "And Little Cohen is your younger brother too. You shouldn't have demanded that we let him go! You know, when Little Cohen found out about your conditions—"
Yang Mo let out a short, humorless laugh and cut her off.
"We're done here. Get out."