Chapter 137 Unmasking the Fraud
Charmaine’s sharp ears caught a faint but familiar sound in the background of the call.
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Before Freya could hang up, she raised her voice and shouted, “Mr. Emyr! I’m at the door! Get someone to open it for me, quick!”
The smile on Freya’s heavily made–up face grew twisted in frustration. “You!”
As expected, Emyr’s calm voice came through. “Let her in.”
Charmaine smirked and tilted her head at Freya, mimicking her earlier annoyed expression. “Ms. White, Mr. Emyr is asking for me.”
Freya ended the video call abruptly.
Seconds later, the lock on the front door clicked open. With an air of composure, Charmaine stepped. inside.
Nobody came to greet her, but that was fine. Back when Rex helped her pick out her apartment, he’d sent her the layout of this building, too. Relying on memory, she navigated her way through the turns and hallways until she reached the living room.
Everyone was gathered on the sofa.
Emyr sat calmly on one side, facing a figure on the other. Two servants stood at first, Charmaine couldn’t see the person’s face.
ially blocking her view, so
“Mr. Emyr.” She approached Emyr with a smile, standing beside him before turning her gaze toward the -opposite person on the sofa.
This time, she was finally able to see Basil.
The person was shrouded from head to toe in bizarre layers, with a mask concealing their face and thick sunglasses perched on top, leaving just their hands exposed. Age was obvious in those wrinkled and aged hands, but everything else was hidde
Not to mention the appearance, even the gender is difficult to distinguish.
Charmaine’s lips curved into a wry smile as she quipped, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm, “So this is the legendary Master Field, the nation’s top physician. Imagine being able to perform the traditional diagnostic techniques of observation, smell, inquiry, and touch while wearing sunglasses. Truly impressive.”
Charmaine’s words immediately caught Emyr’s attention. His usually impassive face shifted slightly, his eyes narrowing as if trying to read between the lines of her remark.
Since Charmaine set foot in the apartment, Freya had radiated displeasure. Now, after hearing Charmaine’s thinly veiled sarcasm, Freya couldn’t hold back any longer. Her sharp voice cut through the room, dripping with disdain. “Do you think you’re so great just because you know a little needle treatment? Master Field’s reputation is unparalleled! How dare a nobody like you act so smug and criticize him?”
“Oh! This young lady knows needle treatment?”
The so–called “Master Field turned his gaze toward Charmaine, his muilled voice sounding as if it were filtered through several layers of fabric.
Ti mmen’e the Lind ofuimusha namne
16:36 Mon, 24 Feb
Chapter 137 Unmasking the Fraud
familiar with, it felt detached, foreign, and unnatural.
This man isn’t Master Field. He’s a Jake and shoddy liar!
Charmaine’s smile deepened, but now it carried a glint of icy sharpness.
“I know a little, she replied.
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“Well, that’s good. Young people these days are impatient, seduced by conventional medicine, and often dismiss our nation’s thousands of years of medical heritage. The fact that you’ve taken an interest in needle treatment shows you have some awareness.”
“Basil” spoke with an air of self–assured superiority, seemingly unfazed by her earlier remarks. His tone painted him as a benevolent elder, exuding tolerance and grace.
Freya, however, wasn’t having it. Her fists clenched as she practically hissed, “Master Field, don’t let her fool you! She only knows a few parlor tricks which isn’t worth mentioning at all!”
Charmaine nodded agreeably. “You’re absolutely right, Ms. White. I only know the basics. It’s probably just slightly better than the pain relief needle your team developed.”
Her calm reply was laced with a barb so sharp it left Freya’s face flushed with fury. She looked ready to leap forward and shred Charmaine into pieces.
“Come here.”
At that moment, Emyr’s low, commanding voice cut through the tension.
Charmaine immediately softened her demeanor, obediently retreating to stand behind him. She even adopted the posture of a docile little maid.
She leaned behind Emyr and whispered in his ear, beneath Freya’s threatening stare, “Mr. Emyr, do you believe he’s Master Field?”
Her voice was soft and delicate, the kind that lingered just long enough to tickle. The warmth of her breath sent a faint shiver down his spine, a sensation that made his heartbeat stumble before racing ahead.
Emyr fought to suppress the stir of emotions, tilting his head slightly in response. Their proximity didn’t waver, and as he moved, the tip of his nose brushed gently against her lips, causing her to flinch as if
scalded.
The sensation was strange, almost unsettling.
Before she could dwell on it, his voice, lowered to match hers, broke
Milence. “I’m not sure, but his
clothing style is strikingly similar to Robin, his apprentice. I wouldn’t be surprised if this eccentric style runs in their little master–apprentice duo.”
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