The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 137

Marlon stood to the side and nodded. “Yes, her medical skills are exceptional. She has made significant achievements in treating rare and intractable diseases. My mother was cured by her.”

No one responded.

Leilani could feel the doubt and pressure in their gazes, but she was long accustomed to such scenes. Her expression remained unchanged as she walked straight to the bedside to carefully observe the old man's condition.

He was roughly in his sixties. His complexion was ashen with a strange greenish-purple tint, his lips were black, and his breathing was faint but steady, as if he had merely fallen into a deep sleep.

“May I check his pulse?” she asked without lifting her head.

After a moment of silence, an aged voice spoke. “Please go ahead.”

The speaker was a white-haired old man standing at the foot of the bed. He looked about seventy years old, with an aura of authority between his brows. He was clearly the leader of this group of doctors.

Leilani placed her fingers on the patient's wrist, closing her eyes to focus. The pulse was deep, choppy, and chaotic—fast one moment, slow the next—as if something were forcibly suppressing it.

Her brows furrowed slightly. She lifted the patient's eyelids to check—the pupils were abnormally constricted, and tiny blood vessels radiated across the whites of his eyes.

“Poisoning,” she said, opening her eyes, her tone certain.

The room fell silent.

The white-haired elder narrowed his eyes. “What poison?”

“If I'm not mistaken...” Leilani gently opened the patient's mouth to observe the coating on his tongue. “It should be the ‘Thousand-Strand Poison’.”

“Thousand-Strand Poison?” A slightly younger doctor couldn't help but speak up. “What is that? I've never heard of it.”

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