The Emperor's time was limited, so Serena Feng didn't waste words. She exaggerated the severity of the Eighth Prince's condition, insisting that surgery must be performed at Feng Manor, which had the most complete facilities.
The Emperor refused, saying that the palace had everything—if something was missing, he would have it rebuilt in the palace. Serena Feng, looking troubled, replied, "Your Majesty, there's simply not enough time."
The Emperor frowned, his gaze at Serena Feng full of murderous intent.
The Emperor wasn't a fool—of course he knew Serena Feng was doing this on purpose. If he sent troops to Feng Manor to protect the Eighth Prince and Imperial Noble Consort Helena Hsieh, how could anything happen to Serena Feng?
Even though the Emperor was dizzy with work, he never stopped thinking about the command medallion in Serena Feng's possession. A token that could mobilize the Divine Tactics Corps was even more tempting than an entire army—but unfortunately...
Every attempt to seize it had failed.
The Emperor glared coldly at Serena Feng, but she did not back down, calmly meeting his eyes. Imperial Noble Consort Helena Hsieh watched nervously from the side, knowing the Emperor well—his look meant he was refusing.
Helena Hsieh grew anxious inside. Seeing the stalemate between the Emperor and Serena Feng, her eyes suddenly lit up, and tears streamed down her face as she cried out, "Your Majesty, have pity on little Eight—just this once. Let Miss Feng treat him. He's always been so frail, doomed never to accomplish anything in this life. If his lip can't be healed, how will he survive when he's grown?"
Helena Hsieh's words moved the Emperor. The Eighth Prince had risked his life for him—he couldn't possibly feel nothing for the boy. But...
To let himself fall into Serena Feng's trap—he just couldn't accept it. He knew it was a setup, yet he had to walk right into it. How humiliating was that? He was the Emperor, after all.