"Save the mother or save the child!"
Such a choice is unbearably cruel, whether in ancient times or today.
Duchess Ning clutched a string of prayer beads, fingers flying as she counted. The crowd was anxious but dared not urge her; everyone understood how agonizing the decision was, and knew she could not possibly choose in a moment.
The Marchioness of Jinyang dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, weeping. No matter which life was chosen, it would bring pain to those left behind. Of course, in her heart, she wanted to save the mother—her own younger sister—but she knew she had no right to speak.
How precious is an heir!
While Duchess Ning agonized over the decision, Serena Feng had already activated her Med-Pack and begun the cesarean operation on Lady Ning, Heir’s Consort. Before anything else, she had to ensure the mother could survive until the surgery was complete.
If only one could be saved—the mother or the child—it would be the last resort. Before that, Serena would fight to save both. Only if there was truly no hope would she sacrifice one; that was still better than losing them all.
A doctor can only lay out the facts and options; in the end, the choice belongs entirely to the family. It’s like with a critical patient needing surgery: the doctor explains the chances of success and the risks of refusing treatment, but the final decision is always up to the patient’s relatives.
Whatever the outcome—good or bad—it’s not the doctor’s burden. For the family, the choice is cruel; but for the doctor, it’s never easy either.
Crack—Duchess Ning’s prayer beads snapped, scattering sandalwood beads across the floor.
Everyone’s expression changed.
A snapped prayer bead—such an omen was deeply inauspicious. All eyes turned to the birthing room, hoping Serena would say something to calm their fears.
But Serena was far too busy—she had no time to worry about what was happening outside.
Performing a cesarean alone is never easy, and with Lady Ning’s condition, there could be no room for error.
"Madam," the maid at Duchess Ning’s side murmured, seeing her mistress lost in thought and quickly trying to rouse her.
Duchess Ning started, snapped out of her daze. She looked toward the birthing room and said sorrowfully, "Save the child."
No sooner had she spoken than Gavin Ning burst in, shouting, "No—save the mother! I want to save the mother! Mother, please, save the mother!"
"Shicheng!" Duchess Ning admonished, looking reproachfully at her son.
How did she end up with such a lovesick son?
"Mother, save the mother—I beg you! Xinrou and I are still young, there will be other children. If Xinrou can’t bear more, I’ll take a concubine and register the child under her name. Is that alright?" Normally men weren’t allowed in the inner quarters, but Gavin Ning couldn’t care less about propriety—he barged in regardless.
At those words, every woman in the courtyard looked on with envy. The Marchioness of Jinyang even smiled, happy for her younger sister. Men as devoted as Gavin Ning were far too rare—meeting one was her sister’s greatest fortune.
Duchess Ning had felt guilty for choosing to save the child, but seeing Gavin Ning’s determination, she nodded. "Alright, save the mother!"
"Understood. I’ll do everything I can to save her," Serena called out, splitting her attention between the operation and the voices outside. Gavin Ning’s words made her genuinely glad.
Braving the risk to come here wasn’t in vain—Gavin Ning proved to her that there really were men in this world who could love only one woman for a lifetime. She just hadn’t met one herself.
"Lady Ning, did you hear what the Heir said? He’s willing to give up his own child for you. You must hold on! Let’s fight together and try to save both you and the babies." Serena knew that so-called medical miracles often came down to the patient’s will to survive, so she did everything to kindle Lady Ning’s desire to live.
Sure enough, as soon as Serena finished speaking, Lady Ning stirred, a single tear sliding from the corner of her eye.
Serena breathed a sigh of relief. Lady Ning’s reaction was a good sign. "Don’t give up. I’ll help you—I’ll help save your children too."
Lady Ning’s lashes fluttered, showing she’d heard.
"Lady Ning, I know you can hear me. Now, do as I say: inhale... exhale..."
Serena didn’t rest for a single moment the entire night, nerves stretched taut. This was her first time performing a cesarean herself—she’d watched surgeries before, but never done one with her own hands.
Two 'ke'—about half an hour—passed, and Lady Ning’s condition was still precarious. But her babies could wait no longer. Serena administered a nutrient infusion.
"Madam, I’m going to take the babies out now. There will be some pain—hold on as best you can." With Lady Ning’s condition, Serena dared not use general anesthesia, only a local.
"Go ahead—I can bear it." Lady Ning gasped for breath, but managed a full sentence. Clearly, her condition had improved.
A thousand-year ginseng really is a powerful thing.
Serena wasted no words. After prepping, she made a small incision in Lady Ning’s lower abdomen, cut through the abdominal wall, drew out the uterus, incised it, delivered the babies, and separated the placentas...
Time slipped by quietly; inside the birthing room, Serena worked up a sweat. Outside, Duchess Ning and Gavin Ning waited anxiously. Half an hour passed with no news, and Gavin was nearly at his breaking point. He didn’t dare kick down the door, so he gritted his teeth and turned to leave the courtyard...
"Quick, go after the Heir—don’t let him do anything foolish!" Duchess Ning’s heart was pounding; she hurriedly sent servants after him. Now she had to worry about both her daughter-in-law and her son.
At last, a servant reported back: the Heir was kneeling in the ancestral hall. Duchess Ning felt a little more at ease.
Another half hour dragged by. Duchess Ning was about to collapse, swaying on her feet but refusing to sit. Just as she nearly fell, a newborn’s cry suddenly rang out from the birthing room.
"Born—they’re born!" Duchess Ning straightened up instantly, all fatigue forgotten.
"The babies—they’re born!" Duchess Ning wept tears of joy, clutching her maid’s hand. "Quick, go tell the Heir—his wife has given birth!"
"At once, madam!" the maid replied.
That newborn cry swept away all the gloom. The whole courtyard erupted in joy—even the Marchioness of Jinyang cried tears of happiness.
"I knew I hadn’t misjudged her. In this world, only Miss Feng—only Serena—could save Xinrou."
Serena was recommended by the Marchioness of Jinyang, whose own younger sister was Lady Ning. The pressure she’d felt before was unimaginable.
"Born? What about Xinrou? Is she alright?" Gavin Ning dashed into the inner courtyard, nearly frantic, grabbing Duchess Ning’s sleeve and demanding answers.
"I don’t know—I don’t know yet," Duchess Ning replied, her joy suddenly halved. Just then, Serena opened the birthing room door. "Rest assured, madam, Heir: mother and sons are safe. Both little princes are strong and healthy, but Lady Ning is weak and will need careful nursing."
Cradling the newborns and listening to their cries, Serena finally understood what those obstetricians meant by "music from the heavens."
For that one cry, every hardship was worth it.