Certainly! Here's the natural, expressive English translation of your novel scene, written with smooth sentence structure and clear narrative flow:
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"Miss Lyra, are you alright?!"
Veil rushed over, his face filled with concern as he saw the tightly furrowed brows on Lyra's face.
Lyra turned to glance at him, waved her hand lightly, and shook her head. "I'm fine, really. Just a minor illness. It'll pass if I bear with it."
She had suffered from this condition since she was young. It struck without warning, and every time it did, it felt like her entire body had plunged into an icy abyss.
Worse yet, as she grew older, the episodes had become more frequent and harder to endure.
Just like Carlin, Lyra had sought treatment from every reputable hospital imaginable, but no one could find a cure. Even the most advanced medical equipment failed to detect any abnormalities.
Veil frowned, then, without asking for permission, gently grasped Lyra's delicate wrist and pretended to be clueless as he felt her pulse.
Lyra allowed him to hold her wrist without protest. Instead of feeling uncomfortable, she found his action rather kind-hearted.
Carlin, propping herself up on the bed in a pose that resembled yoga, asked anxiously, "Big Brother Veil, your medical skills are amazing, right? Can you help Miss Lyra? She's had this condition since forever. Sometimes she's talking one moment, then suddenly collapses the next, curled up from the cold. It's terrifying."
She had wanted Veil to take a look at Lyra for a while now. But during their conversation the night before, Lyra had firmly forbidden her from bringing it up.
Now that Lyra had an episode right in front of Veil, Carlin no longer felt any need to keep it a secret.
Veil's expression eased as he continued to check the pulse. He smiled, deliberately downplaying the condition before instructing calmly, "It's nothing serious. Miss Lyra, lie down on the bed for now. I'll administer some acupuncture to dispel the cold from your body."
Lyra, shivering from head to toe with her teeth chattering, obediently lay down beside Carlin.
In Veil's eyes, the sight of Lyra and Carlin—one mature and elegant, the other youthful and lively—both lying in front of him without a trace of defense, was undeniably captivating.
Their perfect curves were laid bare before him, completely unobstructed.
If he hadn't forced himself to focus on the treatment, Veil was certain he'd have had a physiological reaction he'd rather avoid right now.
Both women were of similar height and lying in the same posture. Lyra, despite her age, still had skin as smooth and pale as porcelain, but her figure was fuller and exuded a womanly charm that Carlin had yet to develop.
Carlin, though younger, had no shortage of curves in the right places. And with Veil massaging her earlier, he had clearly felt the youthful tautness of her skin.
One was like a ripe peach, the other like a freshly picked Fuji apple.
Visually, it was no less stimulating than when Jodie and Julia were lying before him!
Veil exhaled slowly, releasing the heat that had built up in his chest and forced himself to remain calm.
He drew out a silver needle and, with movements as smooth as flowing water, began administering acupuncture to Lyra's neck.
He could have asked Lyra to remove her white T-shirt—it would've been reasonable for treatment purposes and a visual bonus for him.
But after a brief consideration, he dismissed the thought.
There was still an important arc involving Lyra yet to unfold. The more he acted like a gentleman now, the more it would highlight Caden Voss's sleazy and hypocritical nature later on.
If he wanted to steal Caden's fate and truly win Lyra's trust, he needed to restrain himself for the time being.
Ten minutes.
Twenty minutes.
Thirty minutes...
An hour and a half later—
Veil's forehead was glistening with sweat, his face pale with fatigue.
And this time, it wasn't for show.
Suppressing the chill inside Lyra had come at a great cost.
She didn't have an ordinary illness—it was due to her innate constitution. A cold yin body.
Even in the original storyline, the protagonist Caden Voss could only slightly ease her symptoms in the early stages. By mid-story, he could barely suppress it temporarily—he couldn't cure it, and perhaps more truthfully, Lyra never let him.
Fortunately, Veil's current medical skill exceeded Caden's, enough to suppress the outbreak for now.
While Veil stood there pale and drenched in sweat, Lyra, still lying down, looked as if she might fall asleep.
Every past episode had left her shivering violently, sometimes even causing her to lose consciousness.
But this time, it was different. It felt as though two forces were clashing within her—one icy cold, the other warm and soothing.
Gradually, the warmth prevailed, spreading through her body like a soft blanket, easing her pain and lulling her into a light sleep.
"Miss Lyra… are you feeling better now?"
Carlin had been watching the entire time. When she saw the pain vanish from Lyra's expression and a look of peace take its place, she couldn't help but ask.
Lyra stirred and slowly opened her eyes. A bitter smile curved her lips as she turned to Carlin. "Carlin… looks like we're in the same boat. Both of us owe Veil an enormous debt. I honestly don't know how we're ever going to repay him."
Carlin understood well. She and Lyra now both owed Veil far more than they could ever return.
Together, they turned their gazes toward Veil.
Veil stood beside the bed, forcing a smile despite his exhaustion. "Miss Lyra, what are you saying? It's my honor to help treat you and Carlin. Besides, I haven't really cured either of you. This was just temporary acupuncture therapy to help with recovery."
Seeing how pale Veil looked, Lyra pushed herself off the bed and instinctively wanted to get a towel—but this wasn't her home, and she wasn't familiar with the place. Helpless, she raised her sleeve and gently wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"You must be exhausted. Sorry… the treatment felt so good, I didn't even notice how much effort it took from you."
Lyra looked at him with genuine guilt. "You must be worn out."
"I'm fine. As long as you're alright, Miss Lyra," Veil replied, his voice tinged with fatigue but still managing a small smile.
Standing close, he looked down at Lyra—who barely reached his shoulder—and couldn't help but steal a glance.
Well, she was well-prepared. Even the topmost button of her shirt was fastened.
Nothing to see.
Only a faint, pleasant fragrance lingered in the air, drifting from Lyra's body and invading his senses.
He inhaled deeply. It was refreshing.
Lyra was smart. She noticed the small glance, but rather than being offended, she found it oddly comforting. He was, after all, a man.
She tilted her head in curiosity. "I've had acupuncture before. The old doctors always said to wear less clothing—something light and loose for better access to pressure points. But with Carlin and me, you never once asked us to change. Why is that?"
Veil chuckled and replied nonchalantly, "Some older doctors might just lack the skill. If they can't locate the points through clothing, then that's on them."
"It's not a big deal, really. My master used to say that the medical world also has its share of scumbags. Some of them use treatment as an excuse to take advantage of women. They'd say things like: 'You're afflicted with cold yin—it can't be cured. But lucky for you, I have a pure yang constitution. If we could… intertwine… our bodies, you'd be healed.'"
Veil's smile was calm, but in his heart, he was already laying the trap.
Caden Voss , let's see how you handle this.
You'll walk right into this one—and when you do, there'll be no coming back in Lyra's eyes.