Taking Action, The One and Only Serena Feng

Ruining diplomatic ties between two nations!

They really are siblings—always using the same excuses. Nolan Dongling lowered his head, slowly rubbing the ring on his finger. "Is that so? What I just heard didn’t sound like that. Princess Yara, what do you say?"

He didn’t look at anyone, yet the pressure was suffocating. Princess Yara swallowed hard; she didn’t need Prince Terrence to remind her what she ought to say.

"Ninth Royal Uncle, you misunderstand. I have always admired Doctor Feng. I was only anxious about my brother’s injury and spoke out of turn. I hope Ninth Royal Uncle can understand."

Yara was only willing to bow her head to Nolan Dongling, never to Serena Feng. What happened during the day was humiliating enough. Even though Su Wan had fainted and shielded her from some embarrassment, as a princess, Yara had still lost face.

"Whether I understand isn’t important. What matters is whether Doctor Feng understands—after all, she’s the only one who can save your brother. Princess Yara, you seem to have missed that point." Nolan Dongling beckoned Serena Feng forward. "If you have something to say, say it to Serena Feng. I’m only here to check on the Crown Prince’s injuries. Since his life isn’t in danger, I’m quite pleased."

The implication was clear: as long as you’re not dead, it’s none of Eastlyn’s concern. Crippled or ruined, so what? Lyndaria has more than one prince. If you’re finished, another will take your place. If Eastlyn publicly supports a different prince, once he ascends, he naturally won’t trouble Eastlyn over it.

A threat—an absolute threat. Prince Terrence found this Ninth Royal Uncle just as infuriating as that bastard Lance Quinn.

"Doctor Feng, I was just anxious—please don’t take it to heart." The Crown Prince himself was apologizing. Surely that was honor enough.

"Your Highness, you’re too kind. I don’t mind at all. Princess Yara’s concern for your injuries is perfectly understandable." Serena Feng remained composed, her head lowered just like Nolan Dongling, refusing to meet Prince Terrence’s eyes.

"Then I ask Doctor Feng to treat my injuries." Prince Terrence was furious enough to kill, his hand clenching the quilt beneath the covers as he forced down his murderous rage.

Serena Feng looked troubled, raising her head only to quickly lower it again, remaining silent for a long time.

"Doctor Feng, what is the meaning of this?" Was she still not satisfied with how low he’d bowed? When had he ever lost face like this?

"Your Highness, my hands are sore and I’m timid. I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold the needle steady. If something goes wrong, I’ll deserve a thousand deaths." Since Serena Feng was going to operate, she would stick to her principles and do her utmost to save the patient—but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t use the chance to scare him a little.

"If that really happens, I won’t blame you."

"Brother, how can you say that?" Princess Yara rushed forward—wasn’t this just giving Serena Feng an opening?

"I trust Doctor Feng’s skill." Prince Terrence understood that, at this moment, he had no other choice.

Nolan Dongling’s timely arrival made it clear that every move was under his control. He was obviously here to back Serena Feng. If Terrence tried to make things difficult for her, Nolan Dongling might just cripple him for real.

"I’m terrified—what if…" Serena Feng didn’t finish, but everyone understood what she meant.

What if Serena Feng failed to heal him—then what?

Sun Zhengdao wiped the cold sweat from his brow. Only now did he realize that his recommendation had put Serena Feng in grave danger.

He believed in Serena Feng’s medical skill and was sure she could heal him, but accidents—whether human or not—were always possible. Once Serena was involved, nothing good could come of it.

"I absolutely won’t blame Doctor Feng." Prince Terrence just wanted Serena Feng to begin, so he could find out as soon as possible whether his legs were ruined for good.

Serena Feng let out a sigh of relief, her face breaking into a brilliant smile. "That’s perfect. With Your Highness’s promise, I won’t have to worry about dying mysteriously these next few years."

As soon as she said this, anyone with half a brain turned to look at Serena Feng.

What a formidable woman—now Prince Terrence couldn’t just kill her; he’d have to protect her. If she died unjustly, even if he wasn’t the one who did it, he’d still be blamed.

Nolan Dongling looked as calm as ever, but there was a deep smile in his eyes. To have survived Prince Rowan’s hands in that situation, Serena Feng was anything but simple.

At this moment, only Serena Feng could smile. Yet no one dared criticize her, and she was clever enough not to drag things out. She set her medical kit on the table. "Now I can suture Your Highness’s wounds without worry."

She wrapped her hair in a floral cloth and donned the mask hand-sewn by Auntie Tie. It looked rustic and village-like, but no one laughed at her—and Serena didn’t care. She laid out her instruments from the kit one by one.

"Bring me a jar of strong liquor."

This time, Serena Feng didn’t ask anyone to leave. She knew she couldn’t use anesthesia on Prince Terrence, and he would insist on watching her suture his wounds. So she let everyone stay and watch openly.

"Doctor Feng, your instruments are so strange. And this tray looks like refined steel—Eastlyn’s steelmaking is truly impressive." Princess Yara praised with feigned innocence, while the other imperial physicians looked on with curiosity.

"It’s my mother’s keepsake. Even if the princess likes it, I couldn’t possibly give it away." In other words, no one should even think about taking her things.

"Princess, could you please move aside? His Highness’s injuries can’t be delayed any longer." Serena Feng reminded Princess Yara, not giving her any face at all.

"Please, Doctor Feng." Princess Yara felt Prince Terrence’s murderous glare behind her and silently cursed her luck. Surely her brother wasn’t suspecting her—if he was, she’d be truly wronged.

"Everyone, please move aside a bit, and don’t block the light. Also, light a few more candles and bring them closer—the room’s too dim for me to see clearly." Serena Feng put on her gloves and began unwrapping the bandages on Prince Terrence’s feet, utterly unembarrassed and businesslike.

The room was suddenly bright as day, especially around Serena Feng, where the light was almost blinding. Everyone except Nolan Dongling subtly edged closer to Serena.

No one dared get too close to Prince Terrence, but they all craned their necks, eager to see everything clearly.

After unwrapping the bandages, Serena Feng washed the medicine off Prince Terrence’s feet with strong liquor. He winced in pain, and Serena kindly reminded him, "Your Highness, suturing will be extremely painful, and you mustn’t move. If you’d like, I can have someone prepare a bowl of anesthetic to help you endure the pain."

It was a good suggestion, but Serena knew that even if Prince Terrence died from pain, he’d never agree—accepting anesthetic would cost him all his dignity.

As expected, Prince Terrence shook his head and refused, utterly unconcerned. "This pain is nothing. Doctor Feng, do what you must—I trust you."

"Rest assured, Your Highness. I won’t let you down." Serena Feng rose to thank him, her gratitude sincere—but beneath her calm face, a faint, almost imperceptible smile flickered.

She adhered strictly to her principles as a doctor—she would never make a deliberate mistake while treating Prince Terrence. But causing him a little pain? That she could do.

It was a lesson: never offend a doctor—especially a female doctor.

A woman’s heart is only a little bigger than the eye of a needle!

"She really is petty," Nolan Dongling thought to himself. He was curious to see just how much pain Prince Terrence could endure today…