What If Your Own Hands Take Your Loved One’s Life

For every inch the righteous climb, the wicked rise tenfold. The harder the captive resisted, the more ruthless Serena Feng became—she tore his flesh until there wasn't a patch left untouched, yet he still clung to silence, refusing to reveal Feng Jin's whereabouts.

Serena Feng showed no urgency. She diluted concentrated sulfuric acid, then poured it directly onto the man's wounds.

With a hiss, white smoke rose up. Everyone watched as the man's flesh visibly corroded at a shocking speed. The stench was nauseating.

“Ah—!” The scream was like a pig being slaughtered, shaking the rafters. It seemed to exceed the limits of human endurance. The Capital Prefecture Court constables glanced at the man with pity, then silently turned away.

So brutal! Miss Feng was a hundred times more ruthless than any of them.

Yet Serena Feng, who did all this, felt nothing at all. She stomped on the man's ruined hand and asked, "Still not talking? I have plenty of ways to make you speak. Want to keep trying them out?"

"No, no, please, no!" The man struggled in agony, trying to tear off his rotting skin, but as soon as his fingers touched it, they too began to corrode. The pain was soul-shattering—he never wanted to endure it again.

"Please, let me go, let me go!" The man rolled on the ground. All he felt now was pain—he wanted nothing but death, and he wanted it fast.

"Let you go? Who's going to let me go? Who's going to let my brother go? Tell me—where is my brother? Otherwise, you'll suffer even more."

This time, the man didn't resist at all. He obediently said, "Cellar. He's in the cellar." In truth, he didn't even know what he was saying—he only wanted release, unable to endure another moment.

"Quick, search the cellar!" With the answer in hand, Serena Feng wasted no time on these small fry. She turned to leave with her people, but before going, she ordered, "Keep interrogating—I want to know where Mr. Jingyang is."

If the Capital Prefecture Court couldn't get answers under these conditions, they might as well bash their heads against the wall.

Serena Feng had just stepped past the threshold when someone called from the southeast corner, "Miss Feng, we've found an entrance over here!"

"Let's go down and check." Serena Feng jogged over, took the torch from her subordinate, and was about to jump in first—only to be stopped by the Eighteen Riders. "Miss, let us go down first."

"You lead. I'll follow." Serena Feng didn't object and went down after the Eighteen Riders, holding up her torch and descending the soft ladder through the entrance.

"This smell... cough, cough... it's awful." The Eighteen Riders had just jumped down and were nearly choked by the stench, frantically waving their hands to try and block it out.

"Put on masks." Serena Feng wasn't used to it either, so she pulled out a handful of disposable masks from her pocket and handed them to those nearby.

With masks on, everyone could finally breathe normally. They raised their torches and looked around, discovering the cellar was packed with bronzeware and antiques.

But all these antiques and bronzeware carried the stench of corpses, making the cellar even more sinister. Standing here, it felt as if they were enveloped by a chilling yin energy.

Serena Feng pulled her clothes tighter and warned, "Be careful. Don't touch anything unless you have to."

"Understood." The Eighteen Riders were wary of the dead people's belongings—getting tainted by them was never a good thing. After Serena Feng's warning, they became even more cautious.

"Finding him is the priority. Move faster—every extra moment Feng Jin spends here puts him in more danger." The rotten smell in the cellar was unbearable for adults, let alone a child. Add the eerie atmosphere, and any kid would be terrified. Feng Jin hadn't recovered from his illness and now faced another calamity—if he got exposed to anything unclean, his body wouldn't be able to take it.

The Eighteen Riders sprang into action, and the constables who'd followed joined the search. The cramped cellar was soon packed with dozens of people, all carefully checking for hiding spots. Serena Feng searched as well.

They turned the cellar upside down but found nothing. Just as everyone was about to give up, a Capital Prefecture Court constable lost his footing and crashed into a big vase in the corner. With a loud bang, the vase shattered.

"I—I didn't mean to!" The constable jumped in fright. Everyone looked over, stunned.

"Miss, look—is that Young Master Feng Jin?" The Eighteen Riders pointed at the tiny figure curled up inside half a porcelain vase, their fingers trembling...

Is... is he dead?

Serena Feng's mouth fell open, her eyes blank, lips quivering. She staggered forward: "Little Feng Jin, don't scare your sister, don't scare your sister..."

Serena Feng crouched beside the shattered vase, staring at the motionless Feng Jin. Tears streamed down her face. With trembling hands, she turned the child's face toward her—Feng Jin's familiar little face was now deathly pale, drained of blood. Serena was utterly dazed: "No, no, Little Feng Jin will be fine, he won't leave his sister behind."

Serena Feng's hands shook uncontrollably as she slowly reached for Little Feng Jin's heart—but no matter how hard she tried, her hands couldn't get close to it.

Serena Feng was terrified—terrified to diagnose Feng Jin as having no breath, terrified to declare him dead.

"Miss, Young Master can't wait any longer." The Eighteen Riders saw Serena Feng's hesitation and urged her on.

Any more delay, and even a chance of saving him would be lost.

"I know." Serena Feng trembled all over, but her hands wouldn't stop shaking—the pain in her already injured tendons was unbearable, and her arms felt as heavy as lead, impossible to lift.

"Little Feng Jin." Serena Feng closed her eyes, letting her tears fall. Urged on by the Eighteen Riders, she placed her hand over Little Feng Jin's heart—there, it was utterly still, not a ripple of life.

"No—!" Serena Feng cried out, snatching Feng Jin into her arms, clutching him tight. She activated her Smart Med-Pack to diagnose him: "Little Feng Jin, don't scare me, don't scare me."

Serena Feng staggered to her feet, visibly distraught. The Eighteen Riders sensed something was wrong and rushed over. "Miss, are you all right?" They didn't dare ask about Feng Jin.

"We'll talk outside." Serena Feng, clutching Feng Jin's still-warm body, quickly checked the Smart Med-Pack's diagnosis. Her panic eased slightly, but her face remained grim. The Eighteen Riders, not wanting to jinx anything, hurried to shield her as she left.

"Go, find me a bright room—I need it." As soon as Serena Feng stepped out, she ordered those nearby. The Eighteen Riders rushed off and borrowed a room next door. Serena carried Little Feng Jin inside and ordered the Eighteen Riders to stand guard outside; no one was to enter.

"Understood." The Eighteen Riders nodded solemnly. Just before closing the door, Serena Feng thought of the culprit, Jason Lan, and added, "Go to the Commander of the Nine Gates. Tell him I want a citywide search—now. No matter what, find Jason Lan."

If the Commander of the Nine Gates had done his job instead of brushing her off, Little Feng Jin wouldn't be in this state.

Staring at Little Feng Jin lying motionless on the small table, Serena Feng couldn't hold back her tears...

The professor was right—a healer’s worst fear is trying to save their own family. In this moment, she was truly afraid: afraid she couldn't save Little Feng Jin. If he died in her hands, what would she do?