Serena Feng wasn’t clueless—she saw that Ethan Hsieh was serious now. Shrugging indifferently, she straightened up and said with a cool flair, "Take me to the scene. Since I’m here, I might as well take a look, whether I can help or not."
While speaking, Serena didn’t forget to throw Magistrate Wei a look that said, 'You want to use me? Dream on.'
A chill ran down Magistrate Wei’s spine. The newly appointed magistrate stared in disbelief.
Did Serena Feng really see through his plan?
Magistrate Wei wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, secretly regretting it. If he’d known Serena Feng was so hard to fool, he’d have been more polite earlier—maybe even flattered her a bit to make her feel trapped.
Luckily, most officials had thick skin and black hearts—face and conscience? Those got chewed up by dogs centuries ago.
Magistrate Wei instantly swapped his scowl for a smile and walked over to Serena Feng. “Miss Feng, thank you for agreeing to help. I’ve heard all about how you saved Second Young Master Su. Today, you can’t let Young Master Hsieh and Young Master Wang down, you know.”
“You flatter me, Magistrate Wei. I’m really not that skilled,” Serena said with a laugh as she walked.
“Hahaha, Miss Feng, no need to be so modest! I know full well what you’re capable of. I was just a bit harsh earlier because I’m anxious about the case.” Magistrate Wei chuckled, wanting to say more, but they’d already reached the inner room.
Stepping inside, the smell of blood hit her. Looking down, Serena saw a woman collapsed on the floor, her white clothes stained with blood.
They're actually conducting the investigation right here in this room.
Hsieh Manor is really pushing its luck.
Serena Feng shook her head.
Ah, the privileges of the elite—makes you jealous, doesn't it?
And look at this—scene's been perfectly preserved. Seems like they're really set on waiting for her.
"Wuwuwu... Third Young Master, Second Master, you have to stand up for me! Second Master, you finally had a son at forty, and now he's gone..." The pretty concubine sobbed pitifully, and the moment the middle-aged man entered, she collapsed against him.
So the middle-aged man who used fancy gifts to humiliate Serena Feng was actually Second Master Hsieh—a concubine’s son, not as high-ranking as Ethan Hsieh.
"Enough, stop crying. Miss Feng is here—if anyone can get to the bottom of this, it’s her." Second Master Hsieh sneered, barely moving his lips.
If Magistrate Wei hadn’t hyped Serena Feng up so much, Ethan Hsieh and Caleb Wang wouldn’t have come to invite her themselves.
Of course, he knew Ethan Hsieh and Caleb Wang mainly wanted to please the royals by bringing Serena Feng in.
The Wang and Hsieh families prided themselves on being big clans—they wouldn't play dirty. But if Serena Feng made a single mistake, they'd use it as an excuse to throw her in jail, preferably forever.
Of course, if Serena Feng really had the skills, the Wang and Hsieh families wouldn’t dare touch her.
But still, what could a woman like Serena Feng really do, even if she was talented?
That’s how these big families operated—even a dead child could be used without mercy. Today’s mess wasn’t just about the second branch anymore; he didn’t even have the right to interfere.
"I didn’t do it, Master, I didn’t..." The tortured woman crawled on the ground, her voice barely above a whisper.
Serena Feng heard it and felt a pang in her heart.
Women in this era had it rough. Not only did they have to smile while their husbands slept with other women, they had to accept their husbands’ children by those women, too. And if anything happened to those kids, they were the first suspects.
Serena Feng quietly closed her eyes and told herself—
Since I’m here, I have to do something. Even if it’s just for the woman barely hanging on, still insisting she’s innocent.
Women shouldn’t make things harder for each other!
Back in med school, Serena Feng had sat in on a few forensic classes—maybe today, that knowledge would finally come in handy.
"Make way."
Now that she’d decided to get involved, Serena Feng pushed aside any resentment. Working with emotions was a doctor’s worst mistake.
Serena Feng, face serious, pushed through the crowd and walked over to the baby’s bed.
The crib, meant for a baby, was gilded and silvered—so flashy it was almost obscene. Hsieh Manor’s wealth was beyond imagination.
On the bed, the tiny baby’s face was purple, his whole body stiff.
Serena Feng’s eyes stung for a moment, then her face went blank.
Ethan Hsieh and Caleb Wang shook their heads.
Serena Feng was really cold-blooded.
When they saw such a tiny child die so horribly, even they felt their hearts ache. But Serena Feng didn’t even twitch an eyebrow.
Serena Feng didn’t care what people thought of her. Once she switched into work mode, everyone else faded into the background.
She pulled out the little pouch strapped to her ankle, ignoring everyone’s shock and confusion, and laid out a row of stainless-steel scalpels, tweezers, medical cotton, tiny bottles of medicine, and bandages.
Ahem...
Don’t get the wrong idea.
She didn’t actually need all these tools—it was just to make herself look more mysterious and professional.
Modern medicine could do a lot, but not everything. With these special tools on display, no one would call her a witch; they’d just think she was mysterious.
As long as she didn’t start cutting people open and stitching them up, no one would suspect a thing.
And if she ever became famous across the land, she wouldn’t have to hold back anymore.
Because once you reach a level no one else can touch, even the strangest things become acceptable.
At that point, no one would call you a monster—they’d just call you a god.
That’s human nature.
Sure enough, Serena Feng glanced around and noticed people were looking at her differently. But...
The concubine who’d lost her child seemed to freeze for a split second, her crying sounding off—almost like fake sobbing.
Something’s fishy.
Serena Feng felt a jolt in her gut.
Could this woman be like Empress Wu Zetian, killing her own son just to frame the main wife and win favor?
The thought made Serena Feng’s hands and feet go cold.
If that was true, she really pitied the child—born to such a vicious woman.
Serena Feng took a breath and started coaching herself.
Serena Feng, you’re a doctor. You’re a professional. Don’t let personal feelings mess with your judgment. Right now, just focus on the exam.
(End of this section. Please click next page to continue reading!)
She rubbed her hands together until the blood was flowing and her fingers were flexible, then put on gloves and a mask to begin a full-body exam of the child.
The child’s body was cold and stiff. The color of his face showed he’d died of suffocation, and there were a few bruises on his arms—judging by the color, they were made after death.
Serena Feng checked carefully, and nobody dared make a sound.
Ethan Hsieh and Caleb Wang couldn’t help but wonder—did Serena Feng really have these skills?
If she really was that skilled, they wouldn’t play dirty. They’d just treat it as a polite meeting and keep things friendly for the future.
Serena Feng had no idea what those two nobles were thinking—her mind was completely focused on the baby’s body.
"Hmm?" Serena Feng noticed a few cotton fibers under the baby’s nails, picked up her tweezers, and carefully extracted them.
"What’s the point of that?" Ethan Hsieh asked.
Honestly, he’d wanted to ask for a while.
Serena Feng’s actions baffled everyone.
Is examining a body supposed to be this careful?
Those coroners never did it like this.
Serena Feng turned and calmly glanced at Ethan Hsieh, saying nothing.
That look said, 'Can you not ask such dumb questions?'
Turning back, Serena Feng used her tweezers to pick out all the cotton fibers from under the nails and placed them on a piece of black cloth.
Ethan Hsieh got coldly ignored, but for some reason, he wasn’t mad.
He couldn’t help it—right now, Serena Feng just radiated authority and confidence. People couldn’t help but trust her.
Next, Serena Feng moved her tweezers to the baby’s nose and, as if she already knew, pulled out a few cotton fibers—just like the ones under the nails.
"Hmm? There’s cotton in his nose too? What’s that supposed to mean?"