Safe and Sound, These Two Oscar-Worthy Parents

Whether the Emperor admits it or not, the Eighth Prince is now the rightful Crown Prince. Treating the Crown Prince demands full ceremonial pomp—the royal family's dignity must not be lost, and not a single imperial physician or palace attendant can be absent.

The palace consorts are experts at performing kindness before the Emperor. Hearing that the Eighth Prince will be treated today, several consorts came to offer their regards at dawn. When Imperial Noble Consort Helena Hsieh refused to see them, they simply waited in the side hall.

Serena, Dr. Marcus Guile, and the Valley Master had barely arrived when the eunuchs loudly announced the Emperor's arrival. The three hadn't even seen the Eighth Prince before being summoned to greet His Majesty.

The Emperor acted affable, his every word brimming with deep affection for the Eighth Prince. Serena and her companions felt sick but dared not show it, so they simply lowered their heads and mentally checked out.

All three deeply admired Imperial Noble Consort Helena Hsieh—under such circumstances, she could still gaze at the Emperor with genuine emotion, appearing delighted by his 'love' for the Eighth Prince.

They really are actor and actress royalty!

After half a day of hollow pleasantries, the two finally stopped. To show his regard for the Eighth Prince, the Emperor set aside his inner disgust and took Imperial Noble Consort Helena Hsieh's hand, leading her into the inner hall.

Whew... Serena, Dr. Marcus Guile, and the Valley Master exchanged bitter smiles: finally, it's over. If those two had kept up the act any longer, they'd all have lost their lunch.

The group entered the inner hall. Dr. Marcus Guile had already seen the Eighth Prince yesterday; today, he's just here for a routine checkup. Afterward, he took the prince to the side hall.

Inside the side hall, the palace attendants had already prepared everything Dr. Marcus Guile requested.

To avoid unnecessary trouble, he endured it.

The imperial physicians filed in one after another, careful not to make any mistakes. They obediently stood where the view was best but wouldn’t block the light, eyes wide open. Several young doctors clutched pen and paper, ready to jot down every detail.

Dr. Marcus Guile and the Valley Master were used to this. Back at Jiangnan Medical Academy, every student acted just like this. But since neither of them spoke, even if the imperial physicians watched until the bitter end, they’d never figure out what drugs he used.

Dr. Marcus Guile had no intention of explaining things to the Emperor or anyone else. He signaled Serena to strip off the Eighth Prince’s clothes, then put on his mask, determined to stay silent.

The three of them worked together seamlessly. Some things didn’t need words—just a glance, and they knew what to do next.

This time, Serena was assisting Dr. Marcus Guile and the Valley Master. She had to watch their every move closely, so she could help the moment they needed it. That meant she had no energy to spare for the Emperor or Helena Hsieh’s reactions.

Driving out the Gu parasite was a brutal process, and the patient had to stay conscious. The Eighth Prince had to endure the agony of the Gu being activated—and the pain of it crawling up through his esophagus.

No one who hasn’t experienced it can ever truly understand how much it hurts.

Serena fed the Eighth Prince a pill. Not long after swallowing it, he began to cry—his frail little body suddenly wracked with heart-wrenching sobs, his face flushed red, tiny hands clawing helplessly at the air.

Serena quickly tightened her hold, making sure the Eighth Prince couldn’t thrash around and hurt himself.

"Little Eight..." Helena Hsieh’s legs buckled and she collapsed to the floor. The Emperor ignored her, his eyes fixed on Dr. Marcus Guile and Serena’s actions.

"Waa... waa..." The Eighth Prince’s crying grew fiercer, his small body convulsing. The onlookers worried he might suffocate and literally cry himself to death.

"Little Eight, don’t cry, Mother’s here, Mother’s here." Helena Hsieh had lost all sense of decorum. She staggered to her feet, and hearing her son’s weakening cries, she rushed at Serena, desperate to snatch the Eighth Prince away.

Serena reacted instantly, kicking Helena Hsieh away without hesitation. "Your Ladyship, now is not the time to make trouble."

Helena Hsieh crashed to the ground but didn’t lash out at Serena. Her entire focus was on the Eighth Prince, who was nearly choking on his own sobs.

She knew she was wrong, but seeing her son suffer—she simply couldn’t stand by and do nothing.

"Little Eight, don’t be afraid, Mother’s here, Mother’s here, Mother will stay with you." Helena Hsieh lay on the floor, fists clenched so tightly her palms began to bleed.

"Quick, escort Her Ladyship out!" The Emperor, afraid something might go wrong with the procedure, ordered the palace maids to take Helena Hsieh away.

But Helena Hsieh refused to leave, repeatedly promising she wouldn’t lose control again.

The Emperor grew impatient, shot her a warning look, and then ignored her.

No one had time to worry about Helena Hsieh now—Dr. Marcus Guile had already begun treatment. He produced five golden needles of varying lengths and thicknesses and swiftly drove them in, securing the Eighth Prince’s heart meridian.

Serena held the Eighth Prince tightly, making sure he couldn’t move.

The golden needles could only keep the Eighth Prince alive—they couldn’t stop the pain. His cries gradually faded, but everyone knew it wasn’t because the pain had lessened; he simply didn’t have the strength to cry anymore.

The Eighth Prince’s complexion shifted from its unnatural flush to a ghastly white. The Valley Master frowned, checked his pulse and mouth, then gestured urgently to Dr. Marcus Guile to hurry.

This child is too weak—he might not survive the full force of the Gu’s eruption.

Dr. Marcus Guile shook his head and gently pinched the tails of the needles. With a resonant hum, the needle tips vibrated at thousands of times per second.

As the golden needles began to vibrate, the Eighth Prince’s limbs regained strength. Even Serena, no expert in acupuncture, could tell Dr. Marcus Guile’s needlework rivaled Dr. Redwater’s.

With the needles humming, the Eighth Prince’s cries grew louder again. The Valley Master nodded lightly, signaling that the boy could endure.

Whew... the Eighth Prince would survive. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief—only for their hearts to clench again the very next second...

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