Whether you're a mule or a horse, you'll know once you take it for a walk. If you want to prove you're a real doctor, you have to show your medical skills. Neither Serena nor Simon Sun are afraid of that—they're only afraid of not getting the chance.
Under the watchful eyes of the wounded soldiers, Serena worked swiftly to stop the bleeding. In just a blink, the wound was cleaned, and the pale, dead flesh was snipped away one by one. The patient, sweating with pain, saw Serena's calm eyes and her steady hands, so he gritted his teeth and stayed perfectly still.
Serena had seen plenty of gruesome wounds before—this little scene didn't faze her at all. Compared to injuries caused by modern firearms, as long as the knife wound wasn't in a vital spot, it really wasn't much to worry about.
Serena tossed the blood-soaked cotton aside, picked up the needle and thread for suturing, and just as some of the rough soldiers were about to tease her for being a 'delicate embroidery lady,' she stitched up the jagged wound in a few swift moves—shutting everyone’s mouths before they could get a word out.
"You can do it like that?" The onlookers’ mouths dropped open in shock, forming perfect O’s that wouldn’t close for ages. The wounded soldiers watching couldn’t sit still anymore. One after another, they called out to Serena: "Doctor, can you bandage mine too? My cut is way too big."
"Me, me, and me too..." The wounded men all spoke up, sweeping away the earlier gloom and distrust.
"Sit down, one at a time." Serena barked out, and the wounded immediately fell silent, not daring to say another word.
None of them dared offend the doctor.
The old army doctor who had just made things difficult for Simon Sun raised his eyebrows in surprise when he saw Serena’s skill, and said with satisfaction, "Looks like the people they sent this time really have some ability. Now I can finally relax a bit."
Though he said that, the old doctor’s hands didn’t slow down one bit. With Serena and Simon Sun joining in, the pressure on him really did ease up a lot.
There were too many patients for the old doctor to chat with Serena or Simon Sun. The three of them, perfectly in sync, each took a section and started bandaging the most seriously wounded first.
Both Serena and Simon Sun had workaholic tendencies. Once they got busy, they didn’t stop until nightfall. Only when their stomachs started growling did they finally put down their work and rush outside, hoping to gulp down some hot soup and a couple of steamed buns.
But they’d barely stuffed half a bun in their mouths before the old doctor interrupted: "Hurry, hurry... Forget about eating, no time for that. There’s a soldier whose leg was crushed by a horse—looks like he’s in bad shape. Help me take a look, will you?"
"Alright." Serena and Simon Sun tossed their buns aside, dusted off their hands, and got ready to head back in. Just then, a messenger boy rushed over and called out, "Dr. Feng, please wait a moment!"
"What is it?" Serena stopped in her tracks and turned to ask.
"Dr. Feng, the Regent Prince requests your presence." The messenger recited his lines stiffly, as if being summoned by Ninth Royal Uncle was some huge honor.
"The Regent Prince?" Serena raised an eyebrow, then her face turned cold. "No time." With that, she strode straight into the tent, completely ignoring the messenger from Ninth Royal Uncle.
He wants to see her whenever he feels like it—what does he take her for, a call girl?
"Dr. Feng, maybe you didn’t hear me clearly—I said the Regent Prince, Ninth Royal Uncle, wants to see you." The messenger chased after Serena, trying to block her path, but the old doctor shoved him aside: "Didn’t you hear her say ‘no time’? Stop yammering! We’re busy saving lives here."
Serena caught a glimpse of the old doctor’s move and realized this old man was no ordinary person. She said nothing, just kept walking. The old doctor nodded in satisfaction.
Good, good—they know saving lives comes first.
The messenger stood there, stunned, watching the three walk away. He couldn’t believe anyone in the army would dare ignore the Regent Prince’s summons. Even General Yu Wen wouldn’t dare defy Ninth Royal Uncle’s orders.
The messenger stood at the entrance for a full fifteen minutes before he finally accepted it as reality. He went back and reported the situation to Ninth Royal Uncle. He expected Nolan to be annoyed, but all Nolan said was, "I know." And that was it.
"The world’s changing way too fast," the messenger mumbled as he walked out, looking up at the starless sky and scratching his head, realizing he just couldn’t keep up with Ninth Royal Uncle’s way of thinking.
"Hey man, what’s with you?" Dou Dou passed by on patrol, saw the messenger’s dazed look, and glanced up at the sky too. "What, you can read the stars or something? But there aren’t any tonight."
"Ahem..." The messenger snapped back to reality, saw that Dou Dou outranked him, and quickly saluted, but didn’t answer his question.
Dou Dou was curious and wanted to ask more, but his companion tugged him away: "The Regent Prince wants you to patrol the camp. If you keep dawdling, you’ll be stuck doing patrols for life."
"I’m not worried. Now that Serena’s here, he won’t dare bully me." Dou Dou muttered, but still obediently kept patrolling, completely unaware Serena had already arrived.
In the wounded soldiers’ ward, Serena, Simon Sun, and the old doctor were gathered around the soldier whose leg had been crushed by a horse.
"Comminuted femoral fracture, massive blood loss, muscle necrosis—recommend high amputation." Simon Sun reached his diagnosis after feeling the bone, but the old doctor objected, "Body and hair are gifts from one’s parents—how can you destroy them so lightly?"
"The thigh muscle is completely necrotic, blood vessels ruptured—there’s no way to reconstruct them to relieve the symptoms. High amputation is the only option. Yes, it’s risky, but it’s better than dying right now." Simon Sun argued his case, all traces of shyness gone.
"No, no. We’ll do our best to save him, but if it doesn’t work, we’ll give up. Even if we amputate, he might not survive." The old doctor shook his head firmly. Soldiers died in the ward every day—he was used to it.
He tried his best to save them, but if he couldn’t, there was nothing he could do.
Simon Sun frowned in disagreement. "If we stick to the usual methods, he won’t live through today."
"I can see you two are good at trauma cases. Give it a try—maybe you can save him." The old doctor knew the injury was severe; otherwise, he wouldn’t have asked Serena and Simon Sun for help.
"Amputation is the only way. Otherwise, I’m powerless." Before the old doctor could object again, Simon Sun added, "We have no right to decide someone’s life or death. We can ask the patient—he’s still conscious, let him choose for himself."
"Alright." This time, the old doctor didn’t object.
Simon Sun woke the patient and made sure he was lucid. Simon Sun explained everything, and without hesitation, the soldier chose amputation: "I want to live. My mother’s waiting for me. Even if I have to drag myself home, I want to see her again."
"I was wrong." The old doctor sighed. After seeing so much death on the battlefield, he’d stopped caring about life and death. He’d never considered how much the wounded wanted to live—even if it meant losing a leg.
"You were only thinking of the patient’s best interests, sir." Simon Sun quickly bowed, showing respect as a junior.
Once the three had agreed, they prepared to perform the amputation. On this front, Serena and Simon Sun were the experts. The old doctor, knowing his limits, naturally took on the role of assistant.
The three worked tirelessly, completely unaware that outside the ward, someone stood motionless, eyes fixed on them—like a pine tree on a snowy mountain, not moving an inch...