Serena Feng carried her specially-made medicine chest and, escorted by Ninth Royal Uncle's men, arrived at a secluded side residence in the Imperial City. She had no idea where exactly she was—the city was vast, and there were many places she had never visited or even heard of.
Upon entering, she saw Ninth Royal Uncle inside with an extraordinarily handsome young man. The attendants behind her whispered that this man was none other than Prince Titus of Lyndaria, the Second Prince.
Ninth Royal Uncle was already strikingly noble and handsome, but to have someone called 'peerlessly beautiful' standing beside him—Prince Titus's looks must truly be extraordinary. Even Serena Feng was momentarily stunned when she saw him.
Delicate and refined, with fair skin and a sickly pallor, his brows carried a hint of depression. Unlike his arrogant elder brother, Prince Terrence, Titus seemed gentle and approachable. Dressed in luxurious brocade, he sat calmly in a wheelchair, serene and untouched by the world.
"Ahem... Serena Feng." To stare so dazedly at another man right in front of him—Serena really was bold. Ninth Royal Uncle was angry, though his displeasure was so subtle that no one but himself could tell.
Serena snapped back to herself, not feeling at all embarrassed. With calm composure, she bowed slightly as a greeting: "Greetings, Ninth Royal Uncle. Greetings, Second Prince."
The visual impact was overwhelming—a moment of distraction was perfectly normal. It wasn't a lack of self-control; the other party was just too strong.
"No need for formalities." Normally, Ninth Royal Uncle disliked Serena kneeling in greeting. Prince Titus also understood the special relationship between them—he was smart enough to know there was more to it. For Ninth Royal Uncle's sake, he certainly wouldn't make things difficult for Serena.
"Miss Serena, there's no need to be so polite." His voice was gentle and pleasant, making it impossible not to feel at ease.
"Thank you, Ninth Royal Uncle. Thank you, Second Prince." Serena, of course, didn't stand on ceremony and immediately straightened up—proof of just how much she disliked performing formal greetings.
Ninth Royal Uncle had come today just to watch the show. Even if he was a little annoyed at Serena’s ‘fangirling,’ he didn’t let it show and simply instructed her to treat Prince Titus.
Serena didn’t say much, obediently stepping forward. In traditional Chinese medicine, diagnosis relies on observation, listening, questioning, and pulse-taking—but Western medicine also values observation. The difference between a patient and a healthy person is often obvious.
Although Prince Titus looked ill, Serena couldn’t see any signs of serious disease. His sickly appearance seemed more like someone who rarely saw the sun and had grown depressed over time. Seeing him in a wheelchair, it was obvious where the problem lay.
Serena glanced up and down at Prince Titus, her gaze settling on his feet. "Second Prince, do you have a leg condition?"
"Yes." Prince Titus replied with a faint smile, but Serena could see the loneliness and gloom in his eyes, along with a trace of anger and humiliation.
Serena didn’t mind. Many patients were like this—when treatment seemed hopeless, their hearts inevitably twisted. In fact, Prince Titus’s situation was very similar to William Wang Jinling’s, except William was more open-minded, cheerful, and at ease.
Even when William Wang Jinling couldn’t see, he still loved life and managed his own affairs well. He never complained about fate or blamed others. William always knew what was best for himself and how to live happily.
Prince Titus was different. Serena could clearly sense his depression and resentment, even a hint of world-weariness. This was a normal patient mindset, but with someone as calm and self-assured as William around, Titus inevitably seemed a little lacking in comparison.
"Second Prince, I’ll need to examine you now. Is that convenient?" Serena placed her medicine chest on the table and asked politely.
Prince Titus was about to refuse when Ninth Royal Uncle interjected at just the right moment: "Titus, let her take a look."
From Ninth Royal Uncle’s way of addressing him, Serena realized the two were on good terms. No wonder Prince Titus was here in Eastlyn at this moment—he was clearly here to help Ninth Royal Uncle deal with Crown Prince Terrence.
"Please go ahead, Miss Serena." Though he agreed, Serena could hear the displeasure in his tone. She pretended not to notice and naturally squatted down by Prince Titus’s feet.
From the moment Serena entered, Ninth Royal Uncle’s eyes had been fixed on her—confident, meticulous, and cold. Serena always wore the same expression when treating patients, even those closest to her, as if she had no emotions to spare.
She clearly hated kneeling, yet when examining Prince Titus’s leg, she could squat at his feet without any hesitation. It was a humble gesture, but when Serena did it, no one dared look down on her.
She really was a contradictory woman.
"Everyone else, leave." Ninth Royal Uncle knew Titus disliked others knowing about his leg condition, so he dismissed the rest of the attendants from the room.
Serena didn’t mind at all—the higher someone’s status, the more they hated outsiders knowing about their injuries. Serena rolled up Prince Titus’s pant leg, paused for a moment, then quickly regained her composure.
Prince Titus’s left lower leg was completely necrotic, his foot shriveled to the size of a three-year-old child’s—thin, dry, and lifeless. No wonder he hated people seeing it or treating it; this injury was truly beyond hope.
No wonder Ninth Royal Uncle had looked so gleeful when he said he wanted to see how she performed—so this was the reason.
Serena was puzzled. Ninth Royal Uncle surely knew this kind of injury couldn’t be cured—why go to such lengths to bring her here? Did he know she might think of a solution?
How strange.
Serena shook her head, clearing her mind of distractions. Without the slightest hint of disgust, she removed Prince Titus’s shoe and sock, cradled his thin, withered leg in her hands, and examined it carefully. Her intelligent medical kit was already open, but she hardly needed it—her own skills were enough.
The contrast between his shriveled leg and Serena’s fair, delicate hands was stark—no matter how you looked at it, the scene felt awkward, at least to Prince Titus.
His leg lay limp in Serena’s palm, letting her manipulate it as she wished. Titus was first shocked, then deeply embarrassed, wanting to pull his foot away. It felt like his most humiliating secret was being exposed to daylight.
But seeing Serena’s earnest expression, with not a trace of disgust or aversion, Titus abandoned the idea and forced himself to endure the discomfort, letting her continue the examination.
Serena was the first doctor who, upon seeing his injury, didn’t immediately declare, "It’s incurable," and the first not to be shocked by his withered foot.
Titus stared at Serena without blinking, trying to catch any change in her expression. But as a true professional, Serena—apart from her initial surprise—had no extra reaction at all.
With no other option, Titus looked at Ninth Royal Uncle, his eyes asking: "Can she really cure me?" Even the Valley Master of the Divine Healer Valley had said his leg was incurable—could Serena do what he could not?
It wasn’t impossible. Serena had cured the blindness that even the Valley Master said was hopeless, letting William Wang Jinling see again—maybe she could heal Titus’s leg too.
Still, what puzzled Titus was that Serena claimed to have trained under the Divine Healer Valley—could her skills really surpass those of the Valley Master himself?
Ninth Royal Uncle shook his head, indicating he didn’t know. He was just here to watch Serena fail, but instead of a joke, he saw her utterly focused and serious.
Seeing Serena’s demeanor, even Ninth Royal Uncle started to wonder if she could help Titus walk again.
Titus’s left calf was like a dead vine—completely necrotic. Every famous doctor said it was impossible to heal. The Valley Master of Divine Healer Valley had once suggested a ‘flower-grafting’ technique.
The so-called ‘flower-grafting’ meant cutting a healthy person’s calf and attaching it to Titus’s leg. But it was only a theory; Titus had let the Valley Master experiment on disabled soldiers from the battlefield, but none had succeeded.
The Valley Master had managed to stitch limbs from different people together, but most wouldn’t heal properly, and those that did would slowly necrotize, becoming useless.
Worst of all, some patients died outright after the surgery. With risks like that, Titus could never take the gamble.
If Serena knew all this, she would definitely praise the Valley Master—he was truly at the cutting edge of medical thought, bold and innovative, daring to try what others wouldn’t. Given enough time, maybe he’d be the first in the Nine Provinces to succeed at heterologous limb transplantation.
When Serena saw Titus’s injury, she considered transplantation—but quickly rejected it. The risks were too great, and Titus’s status too high; if anything went wrong, she’d be the one to suffer.
In ancient times, Serena wasn’t worried about finding donors—nobility and privilege made it easy for Titus to get what he needed. HLA matching wouldn’t be a problem, and if a suitable limb was found, Titus could easily persuade someone to give it up.
‘Equality for all’ was just a slogan for rulers to placate commoners. True equality was impossible, especially in this era, where even a pretense of fairness was absent. Ordinary people were expected to sacrifice for the powerful—Titus only had to speak to have his pick of limbs.
What worried Serena was post-surgical rejection and the technical demands. She couldn’t perform heterologous transplantation alone, and the operating room here didn’t meet her standards. Too many patients died from post-op infections—she couldn’t take that risk.
Besides, her medical ethics and conscience wouldn’t allow her to take a limb from a living person, even if they volunteered.
She was a doctor, not a butcher. Destroying one life to save another was no cure at all. In the face of death, everyone truly was equal. She couldn’t sacrifice one person’s health for another’s—that wasn’t what a doctor should do. So Serena immediately dismissed that treatment plan; only one option remained…
She would not let Ninth Royal Uncle down!