Flora’s Guide to a Second Chance at Love and Life

Seeing her also working on treatments, Mr. Atticus's eyes flickered with surprise. He hadn't expected this young lady to have any real skills. But it was clear she was just scratching the surface. Her technique was clumsy and unrefined, definitely a novice. And some of the points she chose to treat? Even he couldn't fathom why.

For her to detoxify like this would be nothing short of a miracle.

Mr. Atticus let out a soft, derisive snort, making no effort to hide his skepticism. He turned his focus back to his own patient, concentrating intently. With decades of experience in alternative medicine, he knew the body's key points like the back of his hand-he could hit them even with his eyes closed. However, he approached this detoxification with caution, uncertain of success, so he proceeded with the utmost

care.

Ten minutes later, he removed the needles and asked, "How do you feel now?"

There was a faint tension in his voice, barely noticeable.

"I..."

treatment, but upon hearing Mr. Atticus's question, he tapped his forehead, and his mind cleared a bit. He suddenly realized the itching and pain were

erupted in collective excitement. Mr. Atticus truly

them; all they knew was that the toxin tormenting them for over a day was finally

adoring gazes of the crowd, straightened his back a bit more. He thought Flora was utterly

frustration and anger. They wished they could give him a piece of

he so

skills are

him until he couldn't stand? Why all this complexity? More importantly, what if Mr. Atticus

still felt itchy and in pain. They couldn't help but look enviously at the line forming at Mr. Atticus's side, their eyes

treating one person after another, telling them to

one came

slightly darkening. The man, lost in thought, only reacted when Flora called him. Seeing Flora seemingly angry, he hurriedly sat down,