Serena Feng's eyes were bloodshot, yet her expression remained calm and resolute. Kneeling on the ground, her body drenched in blood, she showed not a trace of panic.
Glancing down at the blood vessel in her hand, Serena made her decision: "Heaven never seals all paths. I, Serena Feng, refuse to accept defeat today. External eversion suture? I can do it alone."
Without hesitation, Serena pulled down her mask, lowered her head, and, ignoring the sharp smell of blood, bit down on the vessel. Her left cheek pressed against Adrian Dongling's thigh, not moving an inch.
Her mouth was filled with the taste of blood, but Serena didn't even clench her jaw, maintaining just the right amount of pressure—neither too tight nor too loose.
Too much force would rupture the vessel, too little and she couldn't fix it in place. This balance was incredibly hard to master—harder still to maintain it unchanged.
After barely five seconds, Serena's mouth was already aching—she wanted either to bite harder or let go entirely.
She exhaled through her nose, forcing herself to endure.
Faster—she had to move faster.
She couldn't hold out much longer, and neither could Adrian Dongling.
A doctor is someone who races against death. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose—but this time, losing wasn't an option Serena Feng could afford...
Turning her head, Serena used her left hand to evert the blood vessel, picked up the needle and thread stuck in Adrian Dongling's leg with her right, adjusted her posture slightly, and began suturing the vessel.
Twisting her body, tilting her head, pressed against Adrian Dongling's thigh, the posture was extremely awkward and made it hard to control her hand strength. With her mouth clamped on the vessel, she couldn't move carelessly, making Serena unbearably uncomfortable.
No more than twenty seconds passed, but Serena was already sore beyond endurance...
Hold on, keep holding, just half a loop left.
Her right hand moved quickly—at times like this, the advantage of battlefield emergency trauma experience became clear.
Her speed was far beyond that of an ordinary surgeon.
The needle and thread darted back and forth...
Squeak!
The final stitch, tying off the thread.
In less than thirty seconds, she had single-handedly completed the arterial suturing.
The microscope was designed specifically for suturing tiny blood vessels. It came equipped with tools to clamp the vessels and was only suitable for such fine work.
But once she took out the microscope, where could she put it?
Serena’s eyes darted around, but she couldn’t find anything suitable.
With no other choice, Serena sat on the bed, stretched out her legs, placed a metal tray on top, and once she was sure it was steady, set the microscope on her lap.
She tested it, making sure the microscope wouldn’t wobble or shift, then got to work. She chose finer needle and thread, bent over the microscope, and let her hands dance across the vessels.
It was meticulous work—there was no room for error.
Serena didn’t dare move her lower body at all. Even the slightest shift would displace the microscope, and then she was sure to slip.
Adrian Dongling seemed lost in a dream. Vaguely, he saw a woman gazing at him with utter seriousness and focus.
Her concentration made Adrian feel as if, in her eyes, the whole world contained only him.
He wanted to see her face clearly, but it remained blurry, lost in a haze of red.
Serena’s focus made her oblivious to everything else.
A silver-masked, black-clad man flashed past the window, taking in the scene of Serena suturing under the microscope.
But his gaze lingered mostly on Serena herself. Her blood-stained face, transformed by that rare focus and seriousness, seemed almost holy and beautiful.
Lance Quinn was mesmerized, so much so that he overlooked the microscope on Serena’s lap.
He wanted to keep watching, but knew this was the palace—a place he couldn’t linger. Reluctantly, he tore his gaze away and left.
As he turned away, curiosity replaced his initial shock.
Serena Feng, what kind of person are you? You’re shrouded in mystery.
I’m growing more and more curious about you.
Lance Quinn didn’t realize that when a man grows curious about a woman, it means his heart may soon be moved.
Curiosity is where attraction begins, and understanding makes it certain.
Lance Quinn didn’t realize that if he’d stayed just a second longer, he would have seen Serena Feng seemingly make the microscope vanish into her arm.
Luckily, he hadn’t seen it—otherwise he’d have thought Serena was some kind of sorceress and would have kept his distance, if not outright guarded against her.
...
I did it.
The light in Serena’s eyes burned even brighter.
This surgery had taught her a lot; she felt her hands were more nimble than ever.
After tidying up, Serena rolled off the bed. With the vessels repaired, Adrian Dongling’s wound finally stopped bleeding, but that didn’t mean Serena could relax—or that Adrian was out of danger.
She’d only finished the sutures. There was still dead tissue to remove, disinfection, medication, and closure.
Whew...
It took just over a minute, but drained two-thirds of her energy.
Serena was exhausted—body and soul. Covered in blood and sweat, she looked as if she’d been pulled straight from a pool of blood.
Her hands felt like they were filled with lead, too heavy to lift, her legs ached, and the taste of blood in her mouth made her want to vomit.
She was used to the taste of blood, but that didn’t mean she liked it. She might be able to drink blood if she had to, but she was a doctor, not a vampire.
Serena wanted to pour herself a glass of water to rinse the taste from her mouth, but...
Apart from basins of bloody water, there was no clean water here at all.
Fine, I’ll endure it.
Serena didn’t have time to dig through her Smart Med-Pack for something to clean her mouth. Besides, getting used to things could be dangerous...
By the time she finished bandaging Adrian Dongling’s wound, she’d gotten used to the taste of blood and ignored it completely.
Even with the wound treated, Adrian Dongling wasn’t out of danger. He’d lost too much blood, and his bodily functions were beginning to decline. Serena started an IV to restore fluids and nutrients.
She dug out several special medicines, pried open Adrian’s mouth, and stuffed the pills in.
No need to worry about Adrian Dongling swallowing the pills. Doctors are experts at this—Serena could get even the unconscious, or a corpse, to 'swallow' medicine if she had to.
All that was manageable, but the hardest part was Adrian’s blood loss. He needed blood fast, and the quickest way was a transfusion. But where would she find blood for him?
With no blood supply available, she could only draw from a living person—and she was the only one here.
Serena reluctantly extended her left arm.
After fighting so hard to reach this point, she wasn’t about to give up. She might as well go all the way. No point in quitting at the last step—she wouldn’t allow it, and neither would Adrian.
O-negative blood, huh? Adrian, you’re lucky. Looks like fate is on your side—I just happen to be O-negative. Lucky you.
Without ceremony, Serena climbed onto the bed, sat on Adrian’s left, and skipped the blood bag—she transfused directly.
Their left hands lay side by side, a clear tube connecting them. Blood-red liquid flowed from Serena’s body into Adrian’s.
Lying on the bed, Serena realized just how tired she was. The tension had doubled her fatigue, and now, relaxing even a little, she didn’t want to move at all.
Whew...
Serena pinched her own cheek, reminding herself to stay alert—now was no time to rest.
She couldn’t sleep, but she could rest with her eyes closed and estimate how much blood she’d given.
She didn’t want to save Adrian only to collapse herself.
By rights, 400cc wouldn’t affect her much, but in Adrian’s case, 400cc wasn’t enough—another 400cc might do.
But Serena wasn’t about to draw 800cc at once. She’d fought hard to survive—she couldn’t risk her life for Adrian.
She calculated—600cc should be bearable, just a bit weak. But there was no other way.
Adrian’s condition left her no room for self-preservation.
Serena closed her eyes and started counting the seconds.
No sooner had Serena closed her eyes than Adrian Dongling opened his, staring at the ceiling, a moment of emptiness in his gaze.
Instinctively alert, he noticed someone beside him before he even understood his situation.
Startled, Adrian snapped to attention, tried to move, but found his body wouldn’t respond.
Something’s wrong!
Adrian turned his head, eyes fixed, mouth open—he wanted to speak, but couldn’t.
Serena?
Why is she in my bed?
The rice is cooked!
A forced marriage?
The thought flashed through Adrian’s mind, a hint of murderous intent flickering and fading.