Serena Feng had no idea what Felix Fuller and Ninth Royal Uncle discussed, nor whether they reached any conclusion. She wasn’t interested, nor did she care to ask—anyway, Ninth Royal Uncle was never one to suffer losses.
Besides, Felix had already kept his promise and chosen a fine burial site for her parents, even handing over the deed. As for Felix’s grand gesture of securing the entire hillside—including the mountain itself—and gifting it to her, Serena was genuinely pleased. She accepted it without guilt; this was her broker’s fee.
Still, Serena couldn’t help but strongly despise Felix’s habit of hitting first, then handing out a sweet afterward.
The site Felix picked for her parents was outside the Capital, a half-day’s ride away—not too far. Vincent Su said it was extremely difficult for Felix to secure this land, since it belonged to the Emperor, who never intended to reward anyone with it.
Serena had no comment on this. Felix was a mystic—if he wanted to talk the Emperor into giving up a plot of land, how hard could it be?
Serena knew nothing about feng shui, nor was she a geology expert. Even the Smart Med-Pack’s instruments couldn’t analyze the soil composition. But since Vincent—who had a real gift for construction—said the site was excellent, she took his word for it.
Before Serena could say a word, Vincent had already volunteered to handle all the work. He told her not to worry—a proper tomb would be built within three days, guaranteed not to delay her plans.
Seriously, these were Ninth Royal Uncle’s father-in-law and mother-in-law! Vincent only had to speak up; the real command and planning would be handled by Ninth Royal Uncle.
Ninth Royal Uncle had already arranged the manpower: a thousand skilled craftsmen split into ten teams, working day and night. It wasn’t like building an imperial mausoleum—three days was plenty.
The burial, set for three days later, was also chosen by Felix, that half-baked mystic. Felix might not be good at much else, but his knack for picking dates was spot-on. Serena simply treated him as her feng shui master—well, maybe a bit of overkill, but Felix was willing, so why not?
Serena knew that even thirty days wouldn’t be enough for her to build a proper tomb, let alone three. And she refused to let her parents be slighted. So she graciously accepted Vincent’s offer and promised, "Vincent, I owe you a personal favor."
For the record, when Vincent rebuilt Feng Manor for her, Serena never said anything like this. It showed just how much she valued the burial site.
"Are you serious?" Vincent’s eyes lit up. The merchant in him instantly calculated how much Serena’s favor could be worth. If—if that day ever came, her favor would be priceless.
Ha ha ha… Vincent wanted to laugh, but this was the place where Serena’s parents would rest forever. Even if he was delighted, he couldn’t let it show.
He had to hold it in—no laughing allowed. But the more he tried, the more his whole body started trembling.
Epilepsy?
"Vincent, calm down. Don’t be afraid, I’m here." Serena rushed over and clamped a hand over Vincent’s mouth, afraid he’d bite himself.
"Ah…" Vincent cried out, blood trickling from his lips. "Serena Feng, are you trying to murder me for my money?"
"Are you okay now?" Serena saw Vincent return to normal and quickly let go. "You scared me! How come you have epilepsy? You never mentioned it before."
"Epilepsy? What did you say? You think I have epilepsy? You’re the one with epilepsy!" Vincent was so furious he jumped up.
Wasn’t that just the worst insult? The most humiliating thing ever? He was Eastlyn’s top merchant, a man of elegance and charm—and now Serena Feng was saying he had epilepsy. If word got out, how could he ever show his face again?
Saying a man has kidney deficiency is basically calling him sexually weak or impotent—no wonder Vincent was mortified.
"Okay," Serena agreed readily. Seeing how agitated Vincent was, she tried to comfort him: "Vincent, don’t overthink it. Kidney deficiency doesn’t necessarily mean that kind of problem. More often, it’s symptoms like poor concentration, lack of energy, lower work efficiency, memory loss, mood swings, dizziness, irritability, anxiety, and depression."
As for things like sexual dysfunction, impotence, or premature balding—Serena didn’t dare mention those. (She knew these were the male ego’s forbidden territory.)
Vincent was about to cry. He swore he really hated doctors—especially this one named Serena Feng.
"I’m really not sick. I just got excited thinking about something, that’s all." How could he possibly have epilepsy? Ridiculous.
He admitted that he’d lost all dignity in front of Serena lately, but it couldn’t be helped. They were close, and with Serena’s relationship to Nolan, she was clearly off-limits—so what image was there left to maintain?
"Really not sick? How about I give you a check-up when we get back? You haven’t seemed quite yourself lately." Serena was still suspicious; if Vincent didn’t have epilepsy, why had he acted so strangely?
Epilepsy attacks look terrible, but it’s just a disease—if you’re sick, you treat it.
Speaking of check-ups, Serena remembered that Victor Yun still hadn’t come for his exam. She’d been so busy with charity clinics she hadn’t checked in on Young Family Pharmacies lately, nor heard any updates from Victor. She resolved to ask about it when she got back.
"I’m really not sick. If you don’t believe me, just give me a check-up when we get back. I promise I’m perfectly healthy—definitely no epilepsy." Vincent didn’t dare argue with Serena anymore, and besides, he had to admit he hadn’t felt quite right lately. A check-up might not be a bad idea.
He had a long road ahead—he didn’t want illness to ruin him. After working so hard all his life, it’d be a tragedy to have no health left to enjoy it in old age.
But when Serena’s test results came out, Vincent wanted to strangle her—or maybe himself first.
Why did he have such a big mouth? Why did he ever agree to let Serena examine him?
Serena had genuinely worried Vincent might be sick, so as soon as they returned, she kept him behind and insisted on running a full check-up.
When the results came out, Serena stared at the paper, eyeing Vincent with disbelief—as if she couldn’t believe he’d actually come down with something like this.
Vincent jumped in fright, face turning pale. "Serena, I’m not really sick, am I?"
Could he really be this unlucky?
Vincent realized his hands and feet were sweating—he actually felt like he might faint.
"Ahem, it’s just a minor issue—nothing to worry about." Serena quickly adjusted her expression; a doctor’s face could terrify the patient if it looked wrong.
"Whew… that’s a relief. For a moment I thought I was doomed." If Serena said it was just a minor issue, then it couldn’t be serious. Vincent instantly perked up.
Doctors really were terrifying creatures—they could bring life, cause death, or even make you wish you were dead.
Serena watched Vincent, and she admitted she wasn’t being entirely kind. She was dying to see his reaction to his diagnosis, so she squared her shoulders and announced solemnly: "Vincent, your test results show kidney deficiency."
Serena watched Vincent, and she admitted she wasn’t being entirely kind. She was dying to see his reaction to his diagnosis, so she squared her shoulders and announced solemnly: "Vincent, your test results show kidney deficiency." (Note: In traditional Chinese medicine, 'kidney deficiency' is a catch-all diagnosis for low vitality, but in everyday speech it often implies a man’s sexual weakness or impotence—hence Vincent’s extreme reaction.)
"What? Kidney deficiency? Serena Feng, you must be mistaken!" Vincent exploded, mortified. (He knew exactly what that implied.)
Serena Feng, you jerk! How could you say I have kidney deficiency—you might as well just call me sexually weak! Outrageous! This woman was too much. He was going to report her; he’d tell Ninth Royal Uncle to stay far away from such a terrifying woman.
Serena was sure everyone outside had heard.
Ahem—a few of the Feng Manor staff were startled by the outburst. But once they realized what it was about, they just lowered their heads and went about their business. Only, in that brief moment, they exchanged secretive smiles: So Young Master Su has kidney deficiency.
The hidden guards scratched their ears—being a bodyguard had its downsides. You learned too much, and if you weren’t careful, you might get silenced by an embarrassed master!
"I—I—I…" Only then did Vincent realize what he’d just said. His face turned beet red as he glared fiercely at Serena.
It’s all your fault! Clear my name!
Serena spread her hands, looking innocent and helpless. She hadn’t destroyed Vincent’s reputation.
She’d just thought Vincent was acting strangely lately, especially after that suspected seizure, so she hadn’t dared slack off and ran a check-up as soon as they got back.
She’d guessed Vincent would be upset about the diagnosis, but she hadn’t expected him to react so dramatically—shouting so loudly that the whole world knew.
Vincent knew it wasn’t really Serena’s fault, but any man would be annoyed to be told he had kidney deficiency.
"So what do I do now?" Vincent tried to salvage the situation, but nothing he could think of would help.
"Obviously, you treat it." If you’re sick, you get treated—what else could you do?
"I know I need treatment, but… them." Vincent pointed toward the door, meaning the people who’d overheard his diagnosis.
"Don’t worry—they won’t spread it." The staff at Feng Manor all had impressive backgrounds, and so far none seemed to be spying on her. Besides, Vincent’s condition wasn’t exactly top-secret information.
It’s just kidney deficiency, after all.
"Yeah. Remind me to warn them later." Vincent looked mortified—he didn’t want people pointing fingers at him when he went out.
Saying a man has kidney deficiency is basically calling him sexually weak or impotent—no wonder Vincent was mortified.
"Okay," Serena agreed readily. Seeing how agitated Vincent was, she tried to comfort him: "Vincent, don’t overthink it. Kidney deficiency doesn’t necessarily mean that kind of problem. More often, it’s symptoms like poor concentration, lack of energy, lower work efficiency, memory loss, mood swings, dizziness, irritability, anxiety, and depression."
As for things like sexual dysfunction, impotence, or premature balding—Serena didn’t dare mention those. (She knew these were the male ego’s forbidden territory.)
For men, this was forbidden territory. As a doctor, she needed professional ethics and had to consider her patient’s feelings—especially when the patient was on the verge of tears.
"Why didn’t you say so earlier?" Vincent’s face looked a little better, but only a little. Because all the symptoms Serena listed—he had them. And lately… well, he really hadn’t been all that functional. Sometimes he couldn’t even get up in the morning. He’d thought he was just tired, but now…
He really did have kidney deficiency!
Boo hoo hoo… He’d have to jot down all these symptoms and later ask Ninth Royal Uncle if he had any of them, too. Maybe he could find someone to share his kidney deficiency with…