That intense feeling wasn't a hallucination.
Chen Huai'an couldn't control his sinful hand.
He grabbed the old man's acupuncture needle set.
Glancing at the old guy in the next bed, a sinister grin crept across his face—one part rebellious, one part sleazy, one part arrogant, one part casual... and eighty-eight parts can't-wait-to-do-it.
He opened the needle case.
Inside lay 36 silver needles. As his fingers slid across the tips, a familiar sensation tingled up his spine—it felt like caressing his girlfriend's fingertips.
"Sorry, old man," he muttered respectfully and gave a silent fist-and-palm salute.
Then he picked up a needle.
And stabbed it straight into his own leg.
Using someone else's used needles on himself—wasn't this a kind of NTR… for the needles?
That was his deepest apology... to both the old man and the silver needles.
Why didn't he stab the old guy instead?
Because that would be crazy! He wasn't some irresponsible maniac. He just had a feeling, an urge. Trying it on himself? No problem. He was practically dying anyway. What did he have to lose?
Looking down at his leg, a network of acupoints and meridians began to shimmer faintly—almost identical to the diagram from the game.
His hand moved with lightning speed, flowing like clouds over water. In just moments, all 36 needles were embedded in his right leg.
Chen Huai'an took a deep breath, held it.
Now came the precision work—adjusting depths, twisting the needles just right to stimulate each point.
His hands, which used to shake just opening a bottle of water, were now steady as steel.
Minutes passed. Needling complete.
Chen Huai'an carefully packed the needles back into their case and returned them.
That itchy, ticklish urge was finally gone.
"Ahhh... that's better," he said, rubbing his hands, completely satisfied.
It was his right leg that was fractured—so of course, he targeted that leg.
Now, the bruising had visibly reduced. Swelling had gone down too. The bone was still crooked, sure, but that was manageable. The key was treating the tissue trauma, and reducing the internal bleeding was essential.
Less than ten minutes of needling, and the results were... obvious.
Even he was shocked.
Was this game seriously that hardcore? Was it actually... teaching real skills?!
Of course, not everyone could just memorize acupuncture diagrams and techniques from a single go.
He used to have terrible memory, after all...
Something was off.
Then suddenly—he had a realization. Eyes lit up. He clapped his fists together.
"So that's it! I get it now—HAHAHAHAHA!!"
—
Outside the room, Dr. Wu and Dr. Zhang were on their way down the hall, still discussing Chen Huai'an.
"He's a college student. No history of mental illness. You sure he's got a screw loose?" Dr. Wu frowned as he reviewed the records.
From the room, a stifled laugh rang out:
"Hehehehe... it's the cancer! The mysterious cancer cells have activated my genetic code! I'm a genius!!"
Dr. Zhang spread his hands helplessly and nodded toward the door.
Dr. Wu: "..."
Maybe that mirage he saw on Mount Tai really did mess him up. Some psychiatric intervention might not be a bad idea...
"Hey, young man..." Dr. Wu entered the room.
"I'm fine, doc. I want to be discharged. Or... do you guys have a power bank? If you do, I can stay a bit longer."
"..."
Dr. Wu looked at the young man sitting on the bed, eyes sharp, tone serious.
Maybe it was time to double the sedative dose.
Dr. Zhang's eyes drifted to the boy's leg and froze. "Wait a sec—what happened to your leg?"
Just earlier, when he'd gone to get Dr. Wu, Chen Huai'an's calf had been horribly swollen—dark purple and on the verge of necrosis.
Now, the swelling was way down. The bruising too. It was visibly better.
Chen Huai'an caught the look and sheepishly pulled his leg back. "I've always been pretty... sturdy. Natural healing talent, I guess."
No way he could admit he'd used a lost acupuncture art from a girlfriend game.
They'd never believe him—and it'd only bring trouble.
As for doing a live demo on someone else? Not a chance.
Sure, the old man next to him would be the perfect guinea pig, but if he so much as tried, he'd get hauled off to the psych ward instantly.
And just because it worked on himself didn't mean it would on others.
In this world, you had to think twice before helping someone cross the street. Who'd dare poke people with needles?
Dr. Zhang couldn't figure it out. As long as the bone tumors were still there, no need to report anything. But if those disappeared too...
"You really should think about getting proper treatment, son. Cancer like this... you can't just ignore it."
"I know, doc," Chen Huai'an smiled. "But I don't have the money."
"You don't have insurance?"
"Nope."
"Your parents?"
"Gone."
"...Sigh." Dr. Zhang fell silent.
In his decades of experience, he'd seen too many like this—completely alone, no money, just waiting for death.
But someone like Chen Huai'an, who genuinely didn't seem to care? Rare.
"I get it, doc. Just treat the fracture normally. That's all I ask."
Dr. Zhang nodded, hesitated, then added, "If you want to start a donation page or something... I might be able to help spread the word."
"Thanks. If I can make money, I'll get proper treatment for sure."
While they spoke, Dr. Wu kept observing.
This kid... eyes sharp, thoughts coherent—definitely not mentally ill. At worst, just a little anime protagonist syndrome.
...They almost called in the tranquilizer squad for nothing.
—
Chen Huai'an stayed in the hospital until the afternoon.
He got surgery on his broken leg. It was now in a cast.
The doctors suggested hospitalization, but he refused—he was broke.
Before leaving, he bought himself a set of silver needles from the pharmacy across the street.
"Power bank!! I need a damn power bank!!"
As soon as he stepped outside, Chen Huai'an was like a starving wolf, eyes glowing green, scanning nearby shops.
He had to charge his phone.
He hadn't logged in all afternoon. What if Li Qingran got attacked again? He'd lose his mind.
Plus, he'd sunk nearly 60,000 yuan into this account. If she died, he might just jump off the hospital's second floor out of sheer grief.
"Hands off that power bank!!"
In the terrified gaze of a nearby female student,
Chen Huai'an dashed in with a crutch, miraculously swift, and claimed the last available power bank from a restaurant's charging station.
Phone on. Game in.
Relief.
Li Qingran was still safe inside her defensive formation, unconscious but unhurt.
With the power bank clenched in his teeth, one hand on the crutch and the other on his phone,
Chen Huai'an limped to a restaurant seat.
"One bowl of hand-cut noodles," he called.
"Got it! Want a fried egg with that?"
"No egg. Just soup."
"Alrighty~"
A fried egg cost 3 bucks. He wasn't made of money.
Soup was free. Perfect.
Li Qingran's condition could wait.
Time to open the Luck Pool – Koi Draws.
500 draws left until pity.
"Tch. I've never had gacha luck anyway."
He snorted, and as the payment confirmation popped up,
his finger tapped the draw button.
Let's go all in.
Full-blown—ALL. OUT. SPIN.