"Just hold on a little longer, I promise I'll go easy on you."
As Chen Qingqing spoke, she deliberately waved the silver needles in her hand in front of his eyes.
You little brat, I'll scare you to death!
Chen Zhancai looked at the silver needle, which was longer than a chopstick and thicker than a shoe-sewing awl, and shook his head in fear.
"No, no, no, I'm perfectly fine right now. I don't feel any evil wind or evil spirits. My mouth isn't dry, and my throat isn't burning. Please don't give me any more acupuncture, okay?"
Chen Qingqing smiled slyly, "Scholar, you are mistaken. If you are sick, you should get treatment. If you are afraid of pain today, your condition will worsen in the future and cause even greater trouble. Wouldn't that harm both yourself and others?"
Grandma Chen nodded repeatedly, "Yes, yes, Zhancai, look at the soup on your father's and my heads. You did all of this. You even treated your father like a horse. This can't happen again. Listen to me and get well soon."
Old Chen, recalling what had just happened, echoed with lingering fear, "That's right, you can't get sick without getting rid of the root cause, otherwise it will be troublesome if it relapses."
Wu Baoan nodded in agreement as he watched from the side. "Zhancai, judging from the tone of your voice now, it seems to be working. Be a good boy and let Qingya give you a few more acupuncture needles."
Chen Zhancai shook his head vigorously, "Village head, it's not just working, it's completely cured! I'm perfectly fine now, I don't need any more acupuncture, please let me go!"
"No, whether I let you go or not isn't up to me. If Qingya wants to treat your illness again, you have to listen to him."
"Qing'er, I beg you, please believe your third uncle this time, I'm really not sick, please let me go, okay?" Chen Zhancai kept pleading...
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