A fresh wave of silence swept through the room. Desmond straightened slightly, looking at the man who had just given him the impossible task. Anabel remained silent. She didn’t fight it this time. He was their only hope. Sylvester, for once, had nothing to say.
Desmond walked up to Sir Orton’s bedside. The room was thick with anticipation. Every movement, every breath, and every second felt crucial. He bent slightly, studying Sir Orton’s face, assessing his pulse with precision. He wasn’t a doctor, but his experience and instinct could tell him everything he needed to know.
His brows furrowed slightly as he pressed his fingers gently against a specific pressure point on the unconscious man's body. He checked his pulse and opened his eyes with his fingers.
“I need a new filiform needle.” He requested. The nurse checked the ones she had brought, but the specialist had used all of them.
"I'm coming." She said and rushed out to get it. Anabel stood frozen, watching Desmond with desperate hope.
Sylvester, who was standing off to the side, had his arms crossed. There was some trace of smirk on his face as he said, “This is a waste of time. Stop acting up as if you can do anything."
Jethro wanted to caution him, but he withdrew and decided to ignore him. His words don't matter at that moment. He kept watching Desmond, hoping that a miracle could happen.
The nurse returned, this time with eight packs of filiform needles. He handed the needles to Desmond. Desmond took one and rolled up his sleeves. The room grew deathly silent as he placed the needle at key acupuncture points, pressing expertly. For a couple of minutes, he was pressing the needle on different locations. He couldn't find the right place.
At a point, he decided to try the highest level of acupuncture. He moved to his eyes and pressed the needle on the side of the eyes, then put the second needle at a particular place at the side of his head. After fifteen seconds, he removed both of them at the same time.
Everyone held their breath. Then, suddenly, the rhythmic beeping from the machine monitoring Sir Orton’s vitals stopped. Anabel’s heart plummeted. Her mother gasped audibly as her hands fled to her mouth.
Jethro’s breath turned shallow as his gaze glued to the unresponsive machine. Lady Orton shook her head violently, whispering prayers under her breath. She gripped her husband’s wrist as if she could will him back to life.
Sylvester smirked as if he won a bet. “Well, look at that,” he announced loudly and stepped forward. “I said it, and no one believed me. He came to kill Sir Orton. And now...he has done it. He has accomplished his mission. Congratulations, everyone.”
The accusation hit Desmond hard, but he didn’t flinch. He knew he succeeded in what he did. He knew that Sir Orton would come back to life soon. Anabel was about to burst into tears when the machine started beeping again.
This time, it was lively and steady. Then...Sir Orton opened his eyes. Anabel's mother gasped, “He’s awake! He has opened his eyes!” She almost stumbled back in shock. She wasn't expecting that. She has lost all hope.
Sir Orton blinked, adjusting to the brightness of the room. His eyes flickered in confusion as he scanned his surroundings.
“Where am I?” He asked, and Anabel's eyes widened in great shock. "He's talking! My father is speaking!"
Jethro exhaled so deeply that his entire body relaxed. It was a great relief. Anabel stood motionless. Her mind was unable to process what had just happened.
Sylvester? He had nothing to say. The smirk had vanished completely. He could only watch in disbelief.