Digestion, Even Perfect Teamwork Can Go Wrong

Serena had never had any great hopes for her own cooking. As she ate, she furtively watched Ninth Royal Uncle. When she saw that he didn't spit the food out, she breathed a sigh of relief and gave up on offering any explanation.

What was there to explain? Explaining was just covering up, and covering up meant it was true. A doctor who doesn't want to be a general is not a good cook. She had no intention of becoming a general, so she definitely wasn't a good cook.

As long as the rice was cooked and the dishes edible, and Ninth Royal Uncle wasn't going hungry, that was good enough. Serena could barely finish one bowl—the rice was so hard her cheeks ached from chewing.

In contrast, Ninth Royal Uncle actually seemed to enjoy it. In the blink of an eye, he had polished off everything on the table.

Serena gazed at Ninth Royal Uncle with genuine admiration. For him to eat this pig feed without complaint—he was truly able to endure hardship. From now on, if anyone called him pampered or delicate, she'd be the first to argue with them.

Ninth Royal Uncle put down his chopsticks and, seeing Serena's dazed expression, tossed out two cold words: "Tastes awful."

After saying that, he glanced at Serena, focusing on her hands to make sure she hadn't hurt herself. Just as she claimed, cooking hadn't injured her hands. Only then did he get up and head outside.

He'd eaten too much—he was stuffed and needed to walk it off. At the same time, he wanted to seriously consider why, in his own household, every cook managed to injure their hands while making his food, yet Serena never did. Was it simply because Serena's cooking was just that terrible?

That made sense!

He'd already told Serena not to cook, but she insisted and repeatedly promised she wouldn't hurt herself. Even though the food was a bit awful, as long as she wasn't injured, he wasn't picky.

"Tch, if it tastes so bad, why did you eat so much? Anyone watching would think you'd been starving." Serena rolled up her sleeves and started clearing the dishes.

Alright, she had to admit she was still happy about Ninth Royal Uncle's 'support.' She knew exactly how he felt eating her food—it was the same feeling she had eating his charred meat. Only, she was kinder than him; after finishing, she hadn't said 'tastes awful.'

Serena finished cleaning up the dishes, heated a bucket of water for her own bath, and another large bucket for Ninth Royal Uncle. But when the water had already cooled and he still hadn't come back, Serena knew—something must have happened to him.

She tidied up any traces in the hut to make sure nothing was left behind, gripped her gun, and stepped outside.

The little thatched hut was far from the village. Serena knew that, given Ninth Royal Uncle's caution, he definitely wouldn't head toward any crowded area. She checked the ground for signs, but his anti-tracking skills were so good there wasn't a single trace. Not even the dry grass and branches nearby showed any hint of disturbance.

How was she supposed to find him like this? Serena regretted never learning proper tracking. Now she was left in the dark, with paths in every direction—how was she supposed to choose?

As for Ninth Royal Uncle's whereabouts, Serena could only guess. He wouldn't go anywhere crowded. Behind the hut was a mountain, to the left was the road they'd come by. Serena figured he'd definitely headed into the hills—since the back mountain was perfect for an ambush, and if he was out scouting the terrain, he'd never skip checking it.

It wasn't fully dark yet. Using the faint light, Serena slipped into the back mountain, moving quietly. After about fifteen minutes, she caught the scent of blood in the air.

"So he really did run into trouble." Serena took a deep breath, slowed her pace, and glided through the forest like a ghost.

After about a hundred meters, the sounds of fierce fighting reached her ears, and the smell of blood grew stronger. Serena didn't take the path—she crouched and slipped into the undergrowth instead.

Her survival training in Yunnan's dense forests finally paid off. Serena couldn't match a special forces soldier—she couldn't slip through the undergrowth without bending a single leaf—but she could move through the thicket without making a sound.

Closer and closer. Through the branches, Serena could see the sparks where blades clashed, and she instantly recognized the figure surrounded in the middle—no one but Ninth Royal Uncle could move like that.

Since the enemy was ganging up on him, she'd just fire from the shadows.

Serena leaned against a tree, took a deep breath, and checked her magazine. Once everything was ready, she made her move.

Bang—the bullet shot out from the dark barrel, aimed at the shadow in the midst of battle. The instant the gun fired, Ninth Royal Uncle knew exactly who had arrived.

In this world, only that woman could create such a sound.

The men attacking Ninth Royal Uncle realized his backup had arrived. They'd heard Wayne Hua mention the deadly power of this hidden weapon, but no matter how they tried, they couldn't dodge it.

The bullet flashed like a streak of light. Ninth Royal Uncle had already prepared; when any black-clad attacker within range tried to evade, he would kick them straight into the bullet's path.

Thud—the bullet sank into the enemy's body. Serena didn't even need to aim; as long as she fired, Ninth Royal Uncle could time his attacks perfectly to kick someone into its path.

"You can do that?" Serena was absolutely stunned.

As expected, a thug who knows martial arts is unstoppable. If someone like Ninth Royal Uncle joined the modern military, he'd absolutely win the highest honors—he was just that incredible.

Serena wondered if she should save up more Medical Ethics Points to redeem two AK-47s. She was certain: only in Ninth Royal Uncle's hands would an AK-47 truly shine.

Ahem, getting ahead of herself. First she had to deal with the enemies in front of her. Since she didn't need to aim, Serena just fired in whatever direction was most advantageous for Ninth Royal Uncle.

Bang, bang...

With every shot Serena fired, Ninth Royal Uncle would kick an enemy into the bullet's path. Their coordination was so perfect it made the attackers break out in a cold sweat, while Serena was having the time of her life.

Bang—another shot. This time, without Ninth Royal Uncle's help, Serena finished off the last enemy herself. As the body hit the ground, an eerie silence settled over the forest.

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Ninth Royal Uncle stood motionless, his sword still dripping blood—drip, drip—the sound was especially chilling. Serena leaned against a tree, catching her breath and reloading. The clatter of bullets rolling momentarily drowned out the sound of dripping blood.

Both of them knew that now that the Lyndarian Brocade Guard had found them, leaving would not be easy.

Click. Serena snapped in a new magazine, just about to pocket the old one when she suddenly noticed someone right in front of her. Startled, she raised her gun, but before she could react, the stranger grabbed her by the throat.

The newcomer showed no intention of mercy, gripping Serena's neck and lifting her off the ground. With a single strike, he knocked the strength from her arm.

Gasp—her feet left the ground and she couldn't breathe. Serena didn't struggle; instead, she stared at her attacker, wanting to see who could approach her so silently and strike so fast. But all she could make out was a shadow—nothing else.

The man was wrapped in black, only his blood-red eyes visible. With a cold snort, his chilling voice sounded above Serena's head: "So you're Serena Feng, the one who injured my disciple?"

Hearing this, Ninth Royal Uncle immediately knew the newcomer was Wayne Hua's master—the Brocade Guard deputy commander known as Shadow.

"Shadow? The Brocade Guard actually sent you—I'm honored." Ninth Royal Uncle rushed forward, but seeing Serena in the man's grip, didn't dare act rashly. He kept his guard up, eyes locked on Shadow, waiting for a chance to strike...