Once the onlookers and concerned parties had left, only Simon Sun, Serena, and Dorian Owen remained in the room. With no outsiders present, Serena dropped all pretense, grabbed Dorian off the chair, and demanded fiercely, "Tell me, whose child is this?"
"I—I—I... don't know," Dorian whimpered, looking pitifully at Serena, completely lost.
What was going on? Didn't they just clear this up? Why was she asking again?
"Don't know? Didn't you just say this was Ninth Royal Uncle's child?" Serena hadn't believed it at first, but if the child wasn't Nolan's, he should have told her in advance—yet she hadn't received any word.
Dorian said that Shore had told him Ninth Royal Uncle knew about this child.
If Ninth Royal Uncle knew about the child's existence but hadn't told her, could it really be his?
Otherwise, why would Nolan have Shore and Dorian bring this child to her? Wasn't it obvious he meant for her to raise him?
Serena was completely obsessed at this point. No matter how she tried to reason it out, she always ended up with the same conclusion: this child was Nolan's!
Serena felt like she was going crazy. She forced herself not to overthink, trying to rationally analyze everything that had happened this past year and Nolan's personality.
A man like Nolan couldn't be trapped by any woman. Even if someone did manage it, he wouldn't just endure it—he'd probably kill her with a single sword stroke.
Besides, her relationship with Nolan had only grown deeper over the past year. He had no reason to hide an affair—if Nolan wanted a woman, even if he didn't marry her, he'd make it open and aboveboard. Just like he did with her...
Rationally, there was no way this child could be Nolan's. But...
Dorian's sentence—"This is Ninth Royal Uncle's child"—was like a curse, branded in Serena's mind. No matter how she tried to shake it off, every time she denied it, those words echoed again...
Serena glared at Dorian, grinding her teeth, wishing she could flatten him and pack him in a box so she'd never have to see him again.
Dorian felt wronged too. Serena wasn't that strong, and she wasn't as tall as him. Even when she grabbed his collar, she couldn't really lift him, but he still had to kneel and cooperate obediently—it was exhausting.
"Serena, can you let go first? I haven't slept in three days—I'm about to drop dead here." Dorian sounded utterly pitiful.
"Only three days without sleep? Thanks to what you said, I might not sleep for a whole month!" Serena sneered, and the sound of her laughter made Dorian's scalp tingle.
Dorian looked at Serena with a pitiful, wronged expression: "Serena, just tell me what I did wrong, I'll fix it, okay? Please let go—men and women shouldn't be so handsy."
Dorian carefully pried Serena's fingers off him, one finger at a time, painstakingly serious.
Dorian was certain now—he'd definitely come in the wrong way this time. Next time, he'd be more careful, and never end up caught by Serena again. Otherwise, there really would be no escape.
While Serena was interrogating Dorian, Simon Sun walked over to the child, curious to see what a possible child of Ninth Royal Uncle looked like. But the moment he unwrapped the bundle, Simon was startled: "Teacher, teacher, something's wrong—come quick, this child... this child..."
"What's wrong?" Serena tossed Dorian aside and turned around. She saw Simon anxiously checking the child, then visibly relax: "Thank goodness, he's still breathing."
Serena stepped forward to check—the child's face was bluish, breathing extremely weak, as if he could die at any moment.
"Simon, hurry—take him to the ward, emergency treatment!" At this moment, Serena had no time for Dorian's nonsense. She scooped up the child and headed straight for the clinic.
All kinds of emergency equipment were there.
Watching Serena and Simon disappear, Dorian calmly rubbed his eyes. "Shore was right—handing the baby to Serena, there won't be any problems."
With the child taken care of, Dorian felt light as a feather. He yawned, pulled over a servant, asked to be shown to a guest room, and promptly collapsed onto the bed, completely unaware of the trouble his words had caused.
Simon and Serena carried the child into the ward. The moment they unwrapped him, a terrible stench made them both step back.
"How did Dorian even take care of this child?" Serena couldn't help but frown.
Even if she still suspected the child might be Nolan's, she never intended to mistreat him.
"Teacher, should we clean him up first?" Simon Sun braved the stench and stepped forward. Under the child's bottom, there was a mess of yellow and brown, soaked in urine—impossible to tell if it was stool or just filthy rags.
"Have someone bring two basins of hot water." Serena checked the child and found he wasn't even a month old. His vital signs were extremely weak—not because of illness, but...
Hunger, suffocation, heat.
Dorian was practically committing murder!
Such a tiny child—even if he was Nolan's—couldn't be treated like this.
Serena really wanted to drag Dorian over and make him look at his handiwork.
"Find a wet nurse—right now, immediately." As soon as the servant brought the water, Serena issued another rapid command.
All the servants in the Feng household had heard Dorian say this was Ninth Royal Uncle's child. None dared cross Serena, so whatever she ordered, they obeyed without question.
For reasons she couldn't quite explain, Serena didn't let the servants do the cleaning. She did it herself, washing the filthy child and wrapping him in a clean blanket.
Lately, Serena had been treating sick children nonstop. The ward was stocked with medicines for kids; she picked out the ones safe for infants and handed them to Simon Sun to administer.
Her feelings toward this child were complicated. If he really was Nolan's, she wasn't sure she could accept it. After all, she didn't have the tolerance of a proper wife from this era, able to accept other children born out of wedlock.
Of course, she herself held no official status—so even if this child was truly Nolan's, it didn't really have much to do with her.
Simon Sun understood Serena perfectly and took over the child's treatment without another word.
In fact, the child was simply starving. If Dorian had arrived even half a day later, the baby might have died of hunger. Clearly, this child was incredibly lucky to survive.
Thanks to Simon Sun's best efforts, the child's complexion improved, though his breathing remained weak.
At this point, Simon Sun was helpless. All he could do was look pleadingly at Serena—he was a doctor and a man, but he certainly couldn't nurse the child.
Serena rolled her eyes in exasperation.
She might be a woman, but she couldn't nurse a baby either. Hearing the child's cries—like a kitten—Serena's face darkened and she snapped, "Where's the wet nurse? Is she here yet?"
"She's here!" A servant from the Feng household rushed in, dragging a woman of about thirty. "Miss, the wet nurse is here."