Transplantation and the Pursuit of Immortality

"How can you say there's no difference? This is a breakthrough in medical science—it could lead to so much more. Heart transplants, liver transplants, lung transplants... If we succeed, then when someone grows old, we could replace their heart and lungs with those of a young person and extend their life. It wouldn’t be true immortality, but they could live decades, maybe even a hundred years longer."

The Valley Master of the Divine Healer Valley’s eyes burned with excitement. He didn’t notice Serena Feng’s expression had changed, and kept talking passionately: “Serena Feng, I knew you had talent in this field the moment you cured William Walker Jinling’s eyes and Prince Titus of Lyndaria’s crippled leg. Come back to Divine Healer Valley with me—there are plenty of patients there, and many medicated people for you to experiment on. If we succeed, we’ll go down in history together!”

"No, you can’t—you can’t do that…" The more Serena listened, the worse her face looked. Her eyes widened in terror as she stared at the Valley Master, fear and dread written all over her.

"Serena, what’s wrong?" The Valley Master was confused, grabbing Serena’s hand—only to find her fingers icy cold, without a trace of warmth.

"Ah—!" Serena screamed, shoving the Valley Master away and retreating again and again, as if she’d been utterly terrified.

The Valley Master was baffled. He hadn’t said anything wrong, but seeing Serena so guarded, he didn’t dare approach her.

When Ninth Royal Uncle entered, he saw Serena huddled in the corner, her face full of terror—she looked like she’d just been through a terrible fright…

Ninth Royal Uncle’s face changed instantly. He rushed forward, brushed the Valley Master aside, and pulled Serena into his arms. In the month he’d lived in the West District courtyard, his greatest pleasure had been holding Serena close—unfortunately…

Everyone around Serena treated him like a wolf, and after his health improved, official duties kept him busy. Even after living in the West District courtyard for a month, he’d barely had any chances to hold Serena in his arms.

Of course, on rare occasions when he managed to steal a moment, Serena was cold as ice, letting him hold her without saying a word. He wasn’t good at comforting women, and never figured out how he’d offended Serena. After a whole month, there was still no progress between them.

Today, after finally managing to send everyone away, he made time to visit Serena Feng—only to witness this scene.

Serena didn’t stiffen or lift her chin like she usually did. The moment Ninth Royal Uncle held her, she buried her head in his chest and quietly wept.

"I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know anything."

"Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid, I’m here." Ninth Royal Uncle was happy Serena finally softened, but he was even more worried about her—she was never like this: "Serena, tell me what happened."

"Wuu wuu wuu..." Serena clutched Nolan Dongling’s lapels, sobbing wordlessly.

Ninth Royal Uncle didn’t dare press her, so he tried asking the Valley Master. But the Valley Master would give Serena face, not Nolan—and besides, he didn’t understand why Serena was suddenly crying. With a cold snort and a sweep of his sleeve, the Valley Master left.

Serena cried so hard she could barely breathe. Ninth Royal Uncle could only comfort her first, carrying her into the room and signaling to the shadow guards to keep everyone out—no one was allowed in.

It had been a month and a half. He’d finally managed to get Serena alone—how hard had that been?

Ninth Royal Uncle set Serena on the bed, twisted a cloth, and clumsily wiped the tears from her face—carefully tending to the scar on her neck, too. The Valley Master’s medicine was truly miraculous: in just a month, Serena’s neck scar had faded so much it was barely noticeable unless you looked closely.

Ninth Royal Uncle’s thumb gently stroked her wound. Seeing the scar on Serena’s neck filled him with guilt—he swore, no matter what it took, he would restore her skin to flawless smoothness.

After crying, Serena’s emotions finally settled. Embarrassed, she said, "Sorry, I lost control just now." She rarely let herself break down like this, but the Valley Master’s words had dragged up a terror buried deep inside her heart.

"You don’t have to apologize to me. Now, can you tell me why you cried just now?" Ninth Royal Uncle sat at the bedside, his broad hand covering Serena’s cheek—almost fatherly, Serena thought.

Serena coughed to cover her awkwardness. Hearing Nolan mention what happened, her mood sank. She knew if he wanted to investigate, he could easily learn what was said between her and the Valley Master, so she didn’t hide it and simply repeated everything.

"You’re afraid of becoming a tool for emperors and nobles to live longer?" Nolan quickly grasped the core issue.

The Valley Master’s proposal was bold, but if it really worked, it would drive emperors and the powerful mad. The higher their status, the more they feared death—the more they craved immortality.

Serena nodded, her eyes—washed by tears—shining with a strange sorrow.

She had already been made into such a tool once before. Her hands were stained with the blood of innocents.

"Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, no one will dare use you as a tool." Nolan didn’t know exactly what had happened to Serena, but her eyes were too complicated, too sad—she must have lived through something.

"And you? Don’t you want to live a long life?" Serena’s gaze drifted, her smile faint and nearly invisible.

In ancient times, this was nearly impossible. But in modern times, it wasn’t hard at all. Serena herself had been tricked by a medical authority she admired into joining a research institute—the kind that studied live organ transplants and cultivation.

They placed batches of human organs in nutrient solution, using various drugs to condition and modify them so they’d match the bodies of recipients and wouldn’t be rejected.

At first, she thought it was a project for the good of humanity. With this research, transplant rejection could be reduced and success rates improved. But...

It wasn’t until she accidentally entered the institute’s basement that she understood: those organs soaking in solution had all been carved out of living people. One by one, healthy humans were gutted alive, their viscera ripped out, and then their empty bodies tossed straight into the cremation furnace.

Those people clung to her feet, crying and begging her to spare them. They didn’t want to die—didn’t want to be carved up for their organs while still alive.

And what did she do? She was so frightened she just turned and ran—unable to do anything at all...

And that institute wasn’t for ordinary people. It served the world’s elite—those with power and influence. Their aging organs would be replaced with younger, more vital ones, all to prolong their lives.

Immortality—this has always been an eternal obsession. From Qin Shihuang onward, no one in power has ever resisted its temptation.

She thought she’d buried that experience, but she hadn’t...

The Valley Master’s words had dragged her deepest fear into the light.

She was terrified—terrified she’d be dragged back into those days, stealing lives from the innocent for the sake of the powerful...