Barometric Pressure Headache Treatment

After I was reborn, the first thing I did was bind my daughter, Maia Howell, and a seriously sick pig to a pain-transfer system. In my last life, when Maia was born, her skin was covered with sores. This caused her so much pain that she would often cry all night. My husband, Bruno Howell, told me he'd found a pain-transfer system that could save Maia, but it could only bind to another woman. For my daughter, I didn't hesitate—I bound the system and shifted Maia's rotten wounds onto myself. When Maia regained her health, Bruno dragged a stranger to me and said, "Claire is the one I've always loved. The part about the system only binding to women? That was a lie to trick you!" Maia shoved me to the ground in disgust and joined them. "Look at you, all covered in sores—how could you even be my mom? I’ll let you in on a secret. The night your daughter was born, Dad swapped me with her. To make you willingly bind to the system with me, I had to call you 'Mom' for ten years! Makes me sick even thinking about it!" They left me locked in the house to starve to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment Bruno was convincing me to bind to the pain-transfer system.

My boyfriend’s childhood sweetheart had bound a transfer system to me, causing the cool air around me to automatically converge on her. From then on, her family no longer had to pay for air conditioning. They even made a fortune by selling the cool air at a low price, thanks to this supernatural arrangement. When I explained the situation to my boyfriend, he was lying in his childhood sweetheart’s arms while eating an ice pop. He looked at me as if I were an idiot. “Your family is so poor that you can’t even afford to run the AC. Instead of looking at yourself, you came up with such a ridiculous excuse.” Later, I installed three air conditioners at home, but it did not help at all. In the end, I literally baked to death in an air-conditioned room at 60 degrees Fahrenheit. By the time I was discovered, I had turned into a dried corpse. Even after my death, my boyfriend still tried to profit off my misfortune. He became an internet sensation as the “first person to discover a dried corpse in an air-conditioned room.” He went on to live the life of a rich influencer with his little sweetheart. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day his little sweetheart had bound the transfer system to me. Knowing the future ahead, I immediately booked a reservation at the nearest sauna to escape the heat!

What could possibly go wrong when Maria is assigned as the personal doctor to the heir of a billionaire clan who just woke up from thirteen months in a coma? Probably unintended sparks and complicated intimacies. The saying that 'opposites attract' can't be more true between these two contradicting beings. *** He frowned down at her, moving towards the bed again, and sealed her lips with a palm. "Stop smiling like that," he said, in a deep rumble, brown eyes darkening with a different emotion she couldn't put into words. Her brows creased slightly before pulling his hand away and then chuckled lightly at his strange set of words. "Why? Is it not funny?" She asked with amusement, looking back at him with her grin getting wider. A groan softly broke through his lips, and his frame lowering towards her brought her chortle to an abrupt end, making her freeze in place when his face was a mere inch from hers. Her breath hitched for a second as she gazed into those dark eyes that could melt her in just one look, the softest of whispers breaking free from him, his fingers gently tracing over her jaw. "Because if you continue..." he paused, taking his time to finish his thought as his thumb ran up along her cheek. "... I am going to kiss you." Her eyelids stretched open at his words, gasping silently, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. "Mr. Stanley..." And before she could complete words she wasn't even sure of saying next, he captured her mouth with a passionate kiss that stole her breath away, all sound from her vanishing in that instant. ***

"Sir, does the massage require me to take off my pants?" When I'm celebrating the holidays in the village, I suffer from a stomachache after accidentally ingesting spoiled food. There isn't a proper clinic or hospital in the rural village, so I can only ask the local doctor to give me a massage. Unexpectedly, he suddenly tugs my pants off before the massage. He even tells me, "This is so that I can purge the evil energy out of your body." Meanwhile, I'm already soaked down there, so my evidence of arousal is quickly spotted by the doctor as soon as he removes my pants. His lust overtakes his senses at that moment, causing him to pin me down…

Lately I've been in a bad mood, so my friend suggests that I see a traditional medicine practitioner. But I dare not do that, for I'm addicted to carnal pleasure. Rumors have it that a traditional medicine practitioner can easily tell what my addiction is. Unfortunately, my body keeps going through changes I can't explain, so I can only head toward a clinic on my own. As expected, the way the practitioner looks at me shifts instantly. "You've been longing to get screwed out of your brains, right?" He pins me on the desk before tugging off my damp panties…

"This is a notice regarding proper use of the air conditioning. Please sign to acknowledge receipt." My six-year-old son stood there with a stern little frown, slapping a sheet of paper down in front of me. I glanced at the page. Written in colorful marker were several neatly listed "charges." The whole thing felt absurd. When I did not respond, he pointed at the paper like a tiny adult. "Mom, you didn't turn the air down in time yesterday. That could've affected my health. It was very irresponsible." I looked toward my husband, who had just gotten home from work, hoping he would say something, anything, in my defense. Instead, he snatched up the paper and slapped it down on the table, his voice sharp. "Can't you be more attentive? Our son's health comes first. If you can't even handle something this simple, what kind of mother are you?" With someone backing him up, our son's eyes immediately reddened. He burst into tears. "Mom doesn't love me!" The two of them, playing judge and jury, left me suddenly breathless. "Fine," I said at last. "If I'm such an unfit mother, I'll leave. Let your father find you a new one, someone who knows how to set the air conditioning properly."