Free Clinic and the People Beneath Prosperous Eastlyn

After five days at sea, the group finally arrived at a remote island—the base of Prince Nolan’s naval forces.

Once ashore, Prince Nolan became even busier. Not only did he have to deal with the prisoners, he also needed to meet with the island’s commanders and plan the next steps. It wasn’t easy for him to come here, and who knew when he’d return next—if he didn’t take this chance to rally the troops, when would he?

By contrast, Serena found herself with more free time. After several days of treatment, the wounded soldiers were stable, and she’d taught some junior troops how to change dressings. She no longer needed to do everything herself.

Still, idle as she was, Serena didn’t dare wander the island. Prince Nolan’s base wasn’t just any deserted island or civilian settlement—it was a military installation, run with strict discipline. Any mistake meant facing military law.

Prince Nolan was busy on the island for over ten days. Aside from making rounds at the wounded soldiers’ camp, Serena had nothing else to do. Life on the island was dull; the soldiers trained, ate, and slept—nothing more.

There were women on the island too, but their roles were limited to cleaning, heavy labor, or specialized work. Serena didn’t mean to judge, but the junior soldiers assigned by Prince Nolan wouldn’t let her interact with those women at all.

Serena didn’t mind keeping her distance. On this island, one wrong step could mean a court-martial—and she had no interest in military prostitutes anyway.

Serena wasn’t a pampered girl who needed constant company. She knew Prince Nolan was busy, so she found ways to occupy herself and pass the monotonous days.

One day, while she was mixing medicines in her room, Zuo An suddenly burst in, asking nonchalantly, "Serena, someone’s sick—are you going to treat them or not?"

"If I can treat them, I will," Serena replied, pausing her work and answering calmly.

"You’ll treat anyone?"

"As long as they’re sick, I’ll treat them." Other than soldiers, the only people on this island were prisoners—and those prisoners were Eastlyn people too. Prince Nolan hadn’t mistreated them, and had even sent military doctors to tend their wounds.

Zuo An raised an uncertain eyebrow. "Really? What about the camp prostitutes—would you help them?"

Camp prostitutes?

The ones Prince Nolan didn’t want her to interact with?

Serena could understand Prince Nolan’s thinking. After all, what man would want his woman spending all day with prostitutes? Still, she didn’t look down on them—those women weren’t there by choice. They were just pitiful souls.

Serena knew Zuo An wasn’t joking. She packed up her medicine kit and said, "Zuo An, like I said: as long as they’re sick, I’ll treat them—no matter what they do. Are we going now?"

"Let’s go." Zuo An was a bit surprised by Serena’s lack of hesitation, but he still led her away.

As it happened, Zuo An had been out for a walk and just happened to pass by the camp prostitutes’ quarters—where a young woman stopped him, crying and begging for help. Normally, Zuo An wouldn’t have cared, but...

The sick person was a child. He couldn’t just walk away.

"Sir, Miss, I beg you—please save my child!" A woman in a green dress saw Zuo An and Serena approaching and dropped to her knees with a thud, bowing over and over. Her clothes were already filthy, and she looked utterly desperate.

Zuo An, agile as ever, dodged aside, leaving Serena alone to face the woman. Serena shot Zuo An a fierce glare before helping the young mother up. "Please, get up. Saving lives comes first."

"Yes, yes!" The woman scrambled to her feet and hurriedly pointed inside, leading Serena into the house.

The patient was a child of about three, burning with fever. His little face was flushed red, and he kept making faint whimpering sounds.

"How long has he been sick?" Serena touched the child’s forehead—it was scorching hot. Normally, she’d avoid IV drips for young children, but if this fever didn’t break soon, it could do real harm.

After a few simple questions, answered one by one by the mother, Serena began administering medicine.

Children fall ill quickly, but recover just as fast. After one bottle of saline, the child already looked less miserable. The woman thanked Serena profusely—if Serena hadn’t stopped her, she might have bowed until her forehead bled.

Serena left behind some medicine and told the mother to keep a close eye on the child—and to call her if anything happened. As she picked up her kit to leave, she found a crowd of women and children gathered at the door, watching her with a mix of hope and fear. Most of the children looked unhealthy.

"What’s going on here?" Serena had a guess, so she stayed put, standing in the center and waiting for them to come forward.

"M-miss..." The women hesitated, wanting help but afraid to ask. A few of the older children stared at Serena with wide eyes. For a moment, Serena felt like she was back in an African refugee camp.

Serena let out a sigh.

She’d always known medical resources were scarce in this world, but she’d never realized it was this bad. Looking at the crowd blocking her way—too afraid to speak—Serena took the initiative: "Go over there and line up. I’ll see you one by one."

"Miss, you—you’re willing to treat us?" The women’s voices trembled with emotion, their caution showing just how much they feared being mistaken.

On this island, no doctor was willing to treat people like them.

"I’m a doctor." I have no right to pick my patients.

"Thank you, miss, thank you! We’ll never forget your kindness. Tiger, Stone—quick, bow to the lady!" The women hurried their children forward.

"No, they’re just children—don’t make them go through that. Go line up over there, I’ll have someone bring a table." Serena stepped forward to help the children up, but they shrank back, whispering, "We’re dirty."

Serena froze, her hand hanging in midair, but she didn’t feel awkward—she simply withdrew it and told everyone to line up. Then she called out to Zuo An: "Go get me a table and two chairs."

"Why me?" Zuo An grumbled, but didn’t refuse.

Once the table and chairs were set up, Serena had a simple clinic ready. She sat down and began seeing the women and children one by one.

Zuo An didn’t sit idle either. As the only other literate person present, he recorded everyone’s symptoms, wrote out prescriptions, and reminded them to keep their slips safe and bring them back tomorrow to collect medicine.

There were so many patients that Serena worked from morning till night and still only saw a third of them. When night fell, she had no choice but to tell the rest to come back tomorrow. Those who didn’t get treated left quietly—no complaints, no fuss.

Serena stood there, silently watching, unable to put her feelings into words.

Is this what Prosperous Eastlyn looks like? Is this supposed to be a golden age of peace?

Are the people of this so-called golden age really living with threadbare clothes, empty bellies, and no hope of medical care?

In the Eastlyn Imperial Capital, she’d heard people talk about a flourishing dynasty and Prosperous Eastlyn every day. But only after leaving the capital did she realize that this ‘prosperity’ was just an illusion—the ones at the bottom suffered terribly.

Eastlyn was the strongest, richest country in all Nine Provinces, and even its common people lived like this—what about everywhere else? What about Northlyn, the poorest region of all?

Maybe Prince Nolan unifying the Nine Provinces would truly be a blessing for the people.