This woman is truly insane.
Lance Quinn stared, utterly dumbfounded. Even now, at a time like this, that woman still had the nerve to worry about her precious hair. Honestly...
Speechless, Lance Quinn looked up at the ceiling. He was starting to doubt Vincent Su’s words—and his own judgment.
Was Serena Feng really that different from everyone else? Could she actually save him? Or was he just so desperate he’d trust anyone at this point?
Maybe Serena Feng was different, but maybe she was just differently stupid.
Serena Feng ignored Lance Quinn. After securing her hair, she picked up the anesthetic and, catching him off guard, injected it.
The thin needle pierced his skin, sending a cold liquid into his veins. Lance Quinn flinched, instinctively dodging and swinging his hand at Serena.
Serena was ready for him. She pinned Lance Quinn with one hand, twisting her upper body to narrowly avoid his strike.
She looked him dead in the eye, serious and stern. "Don’t move. I’m not here to hurt you. If you chose me, then trust me—put your life in my hands. You won’t regret it."
As a doctor, she had this confidence—and she had to. Only when a doctor believes they can save someone does a patient have the will to survive.
“Don’t try anything clever. I have a thousand ways to make you wish you were dead.” Faced with Serena Feng’s stern tone, Lance Quinn obediently quieted down.
Soon, the anesthetic was fully injected. Serena slipped the syringe into her sleeve, glanced at Lance Quinn, and silently began counting down in her mind.
Ten...
Nine...
Eight...
...
"What... did you inject me with?" Lance Quinn demanded, but his voice lacked its usual force.
He couldn’t help it. At that moment, Lance Quinn was sprawled on the ground, unable to move. The anesthetic was working; his consciousness was fading, and he couldn’t focus anymore.
"Ma Fei San," Serena replied sweetly, acting all innocent.
"Impossible," Lance Quinn shot back without hesitation.
To avoid being poisoned, he’d been fed all kinds of narcotics and toxins since childhood. His resistance to drugs was a hundred times stronger than ordinary people’s—Ma Fei San had no effect on him at all.
"This is a modified version. It’s much stronger and works better. Stop glaring at me—Vincent Su is still here, and my life is in your hands. Trust me, I wouldn’t dare mess with you. The Ma Fei San is for your own good.
Your wound is right at your heart. When I dig out the arrowhead, even the slightest movement could kill you. If I’m going to save you, I’ll do it all the way. I won’t let anything happen to you." Serena spoke with righteous conviction.
But only she knew the truth—she was scared. Scared that this masked man would see her "strange" medical methods, call her a witch, and have her burned at the stake.
To prevent that, she could only inject Lance Quinn with the strongest dose of anesthetic she had.
That single syringe could knock out an elephant.
She refused to believe Lance Quinn could withstand it.
Hmph, you think you’re tough? You think you’re wild? One shot of anesthetic, problem solved.
Serena Feng let herself be a little wicked, just this once.
"Woman, you’re asking for death!" Lance Quinn roared, channeling his inner force to break through the drug’s hold. He grabbed the sword nearby, ignoring his injuries, and swung it at Serena.
Luckily, Serena Feng was quick on her feet. She jumped back and pressed herself against the wall.
"Hey, hey, hey, don’t get crazy! I’m not some Xiamen University..."
Lance Quinn was already badly wounded, and now the anesthetic was taking hold. He wanted to fight, but his body wouldn’t listen.
With a clang, the sword fell beside him and he collapsed, unable to move.
Serena let out a breath, patted her chest to calm her racing heart, and then put on a serious face:
"I’m not trying to hurt you. As a phys—uh, doctor, I have my responsibilities and principles. You can trust me—I’d never play games with a patient’s life."
Lance Quinn didn’t believe her for a second. He tried to lift his sword again.
Serena gave a nervous laugh and quickly said, "Seriously, don’t move! If you tear your wound and bleed out, I’m not taking responsibility."
As a doctor, she hated patients who didn’t value their own lives.
If you don’t even care whether you live or die, how can you expect a doctor to save you?
Besides, Serena Feng’s medicine was priceless in this era—once it was gone, there’d never be more. She used it on him out of kindness, and he still had the nerve to complain.
Hmph, what a waste of medical resources!
Serena saw Lance Quinn’s eyes lose focus, and a hint of satisfaction flashed across her own.
Tough guy, big shot—everyone’s equal in front of a doctor.
Three...
Two...
Serena counted silently in her heart.
One...
Down.
Thud...
"Serena Feng, I’ll remember you." Lance Quinn ground out, teeth clenched, right before losing consciousness.
No matter how much he hated it, he couldn’t fight the drug. He blacked out.
"Finally down," Serena Feng shook her head. "The more stubborn the man, the more trouble. I hate dealing with tough guys like you."
Serena stepped forward, using the glow from a luminous pearl to check carefully. Once she confirmed Lance Quinn was truly unconscious, she finally relaxed.
While Vincent Su was still away, Serena pressed lightly to activate the Smart Med‑Pack.
The Smart Med‑Pack began a full-body scan on Lance Quinn.
Beep beep beep...
Soon, the Smart Med‑Pack displayed the test results. Serena looked down to check.
The scan showed the man was perfectly healthy overall—no other illnesses, no genetic disorders.
The wound was three millimeters from the left heart and needed urgent treatment, or his life would be at risk. The Smart Med‑Pack also warned that his temperature was high and the wound was inflamed.
"The wound isn’t too serious—it looks like just a minor surgery." Serena’s anxious heart finally settled.
She knew perfectly well that if she didn’t treat the masked man’s injury, Vincent Su would kill her without hesitation.
She got up, pressed her ear to the stone chamber wall to listen, and only when she was sure Vincent Su hadn’t returned did Serena take out equipment from the Smart Med‑Pack to draw and test Lance Quinn’s blood.
The results came quickly: Lance Quinn was type O. Serena no longer had to worry about him dying from blood loss.
A patient’s blood type is crucial. If Lance Quinn had been extremely rare RH-negative, she’d have been in despair.
It wasn’t just Serena being paranoid—she’d experienced it before.
During the Afghanistan War, she once removed a bullet from a soldier. The surgery went perfectly, but he still died.
Cause of death: excessive blood loss.
That soldier was RH-negative. There was no supply of that blood type in the bank, and among thirty thousand troops, not one was RH-negative. They could only watch as his life slipped away...
In that moment, even Serena—who’d seen so much death—was in tears as she tied off the stitches.
A vibrant life lost for want of just 400cc of blood.
So when Serena saw Lance Quinn’s test results, she was grateful that blood type wouldn’t be what killed him.
Looking at Lance Quinn lying motionless on the ground, Serena murmured:
"Do you know how lucky you are? Your wound is only three millimeters from your heart. Even the best traditional doctors wouldn’t dare operate.
With ancient medicine, this kind of injury had an 80% death rate. You’re lucky you met me—otherwise, you’d only have a twenty percent chance to survive. It’s not that traditional medicine is bad, just that Western and Eastern medicine have different strengths. Western medicine is better at treating trauma."
Just then, she heard the faintest footsteps approaching. Knowing Vincent Su was coming, Serena quickly shoved the medical equipment back into the Smart Med‑Pack and crouched by Lance Quinn, pretending to be busy...