Rise of The Abandoned Husband (Liam Knight) novel Chapter 69

69 Chapter 69 – A Desperate Plea, A Ticking Clock

I gazed out the car window as Eamon drove through the streets of Havenwood City, the silver needle case resting securely on my lap. My fingers traced the wooden edges, a sense of certainty settling over me.

“We’re nearly there, Mr. Knight,” Eamon said, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. “You think they’ll be desperate by now?”

“I know they will be,” I replied, my voice calm despite the gravity of the situation. “The question is whether they’ve realized it in time.”

We had barely pulled up to the Shepherd mansion when I spotted Jonah Shepherd bursting through the front doors, his face a mask of panic and desperation. The

moment he saw our car, he sprinted down the driveway, nearly tripping over himself in his haste.

“Knight!” he shouted, pounding on the car window before I could even step out. “Please, you have to help us! My mother–she’s dying!”

I opened the door calmly, looking up at his frantic face. “I told you she had three hours. How much time has passed?”

“Two and a half hours,” he choked out, his eyes red from barely contained tears. “That fraud Huxley–his treatment made her worse. Please, my father will pay anything. Just save her.”

I nodded once, retrieving my case of silver needles. “Take me to her.”

Jonah practically dragged me through the mansion, babbling explanations and apologies that blended together in his panic. Eamon followed silently behind us, carrying additional supplies I’d prepared.

When we entered Mrs. Shepherd’s bedroom, the scene was exactly as I had anticipated. Leopold Shepherd sat by his wife’s bedside, his normally proud posture

in escape crumpled as he clutched her limp hand. Maxim Huxley cowered in the corner, his eyes darting nervously between Leopold and the door, clearly searching f

route.

Leopold’s head snapped up at our entrance. The moment he saw me, something broke

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in his expression–the last vestiges of his pride crumbling away.

“Knight,” he breathed, rising shakily to his feet. “Thank God you’ve come.”

I approached the bed without acknowledging his relief, focusing instead on Mrs. Shepherd. Her condition had deteriorated significantly–her skin had taken on a bluish tinge, and her breathing was shallow and irregular. I checked her pulse and lifted her eyelids to examine her pupils.

“She’s worse than before,” I said flatly. “But not beyond saving–yet.”

“Can you help her?” Leopold asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I can,” I confirmed, opening my case of silver needles. “But I need complete silence and cooperation.”

“Anything,” Leopold promised. “Whatever you need.”

From the corner, Huxley let out a derisive snort. “You’re not seriously going to let this quack stick needles in your wife? After all the money you paid me?”

Leopold whirled on him, fury blazing in his bloodshot eyes. “Shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you! Your ‘treatment‘ is killing her!”

I ignored their exchange, focusing on preparing my needles. “Jonah, I need you to help move your mother to the center of the bed. Leopold, have someone bring fresh warm water and clean towels.”

As they scrambled to follow my instructions, I met Eamon’s gaze and nodded subtly. He understood immediately, positioning himself near Huxley to ensure the charlatan wouldn’t interfere.

“This is absurd,” Huxley muttered, though he shrank back when Eamon stepped closer to him. “Those primitive needles won’t do anything a proper medical injection can’t.”

“Your ‘proper medical injection‘ has brought her to death’s door,” Jonah snapped as he carefully adjusted his mother’s position. “So shut up and let him work.”

Once Mrs. Shepherd was properly positioned, I rolled up my sleeves and took a deep breath, centering myself. The technique I needed to use–the Supe Spiritual Needle method–would be taxing, requiring not just precision but a significant portion of my own energy to counteract the damage Huxley’s treatment had caused.

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69 Chapter 69 – A Desperate Plea, A Ticking Clock

“What I’m about to do is called the Supreme Spiritual Needle technique,” I explained as I selected the first needle. “It will redirect her body’s energy pathways and neutralize the toxins in her system.”

“Toxins?” Leopold repeated, his face paling. “Are you saying she was poisoned?”

I shot a cold glance at Huxley, who visibly flinched. “Not intentionally, perhaps. But yes, the medication she was given was completely wrong for her condition. It’s causing her organs to shut down.”

“That’s slander!” Huxley protested weakly. “I used standard protocols for-”

“For a condition she doesn’t have,” I cut him off sharply. “Now be silent or leave.” With steady hands, I inserted the first needle at the precise point on Mrs. Shepherd’s forehead–the governing vessel meridian. The silver glinted in the room’s light as I manipulated it with barely perceptible movements, finding the exact angle and depth required.

“Watch closely,” I told Leopold and Jonah. “You’ll see the needle vibrate slightly when it finds the correct energy pathway.”

Sure enough, the silver needle began to tremble minutely, almost as if alive. A collective gasp filled the room.

“It’s… moving on its own,” Jonah whispered.

“It’s responding to her body’s energy,” I explained, already preparing the second needle. “This is just the beginning.”

Over the next forty minutes, I placed twenty–three needles with surgical precision, each one targeting a specific meridian point. Sweat beaded on my forehead from the concentration required, and I could feel my own energy draining as I channeled it through the needles into Mrs. Shepherd’s failing body.

“Ridiculous theatrics,” Huxley muttered after the fifteenth needle. “This is nothing but an elaborate show to-“1

‘

He didn’t finish his sentence because Jonah’s fist connected with jaw, sending him sprawling to the floor.

“I warned you to shut up,” Jonah growled, standing over him menacingly.

69 Chapter 69 A Desperate Plea, A Ticking Clock

“Jonah,” I said without looking away from my work, “I need silence and calm energy in the room. Your anger disrupts the flow.”

Jonah backed away, breathing deeply to compose himself. “I apologize.”

As I placed the final needle, a visible wave seemed to pass through Mrs. Shepherd’s body—a subtle ripple that caused all the needles to vibrate in unison for a brief moment before settling into a synchronized rhythm.

“The connection is established,” I announced, my voice slightly strained from exertion. “Now comes the difficult part.”

I placed my hands over her body without touching it, closing my eyes as I focused on directing my own energy through the needle network. The room faded around me as I concentrated, feeling the toxic elements in her system and working to neutralize them through the silver conductors.

Minutes stretched into an hour as I worked. My face grew pale, dark circles forming under my eyes as my life force flowed into the healing process. At one point, my hands began to tremble from exhaustion.

“Mr. Knight,” Eamon said quietly, noticing my deteriorating condition. “Perhaps you should rest a moment.”

“Can’t stop now,” I muttered through gritted teeth. “The process must be completed in one session.”

When I finally opened my eyes and lowered my hands, I felt lightheaded and drained. Eamon quickly moved to steady me as I swayed slightly on my feet.

“It’s done,” I said, my voice hoarse. “The needles must remain for another thirty minutes. Then she will wake up.”

“Are you certain?” Leopold asked, hope and doubt warring in his expression.

“Absolutely certain,” I replied, accepting the glass of water Eamon offered me. “In exactly thirty minutes, she will open her eyes.”

“This is absurd. Huxley, who had been quiet since Jonah’s punch, finally spoke ag You can’t possibly predict the exact moment someone will regain consciousness. Medicine doesn’t work that way.”

Eamon didn’t give Jonah a chance to respond this time. He stepped forward and

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slapped Huxley hard across the face. “That’s enough from you,” he said coldly. “One more word and you’ll be carried out of here.”

The next half hour passed in tense silence. I sat in a chair near the bed, recovering my strength while the Shepherds watched the clock with increasing anxiety. As the minutes ticked by without any change in Mrs. Shepherd’s condition, I could see doubt creeping back into Leopold’s eyes.

At the twenty–nine minute mark, Leopold’s patience finally broke.

“Nothing’s happening,” he said accusingly. “She looks exactly the same!”

“Give it one more minute,” I replied calmly, though internally I was counting down the seconds.

“We’ve wasted enough time,” Leopold snapped, panic overtaking his reason. “Jonah, call an ambulance and then carry your mother downstairs. We’re taking her to the hospital immediately.”

“Father, wait-” Jonah started, clearly torn between obeying his father and trusting my

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