Serena Feng had no idea how fiercely the imperial physicians of the Imperial Medical Directorate were fighting and scrambling for a single observer slot. Even if she knew, she wouldn’t care—the five slots were set by Ninth Royal Uncle Nolan and William Wang Jinling, and she had neither the right nor the intention to change them.
Tomorrow was the day of the surgery. Serena spent the afternoon in her small cabin—not cramming, but checking every detail.
Serena was never the kind of person to panic and scramble for preparations at the last minute. From the moment she agreed to operate on Victor Yun, she’d been making arrangements step by step. All the instruments and medicines were ready long ago—today’s checks were just routine.
Brain tumor surgeries were nothing new to Serena. Before she ever went to the battlefield, she averaged one surgery every three days. When she wasn’t operating, she was usually assisting in other operations.
Medical resources were always scarce. One doctor had to handle several—or even dozens—of patients. That rule was universal, especially for a doctor with some reputation like her: the busier, the better.
Big-name doctors weren’t available to just anyone, while unknown doctors were too risky for most people to trust. Someone like her—with a bit of fame but no powerful backers—got the most requests. Any official with even a little influence could pressure the hospital or her directly to perform a surgery.
Her record was five surgeries in a single week. If she hadn’t collapsed in her office after the last one, she might have done a sixth.
Doctors—especially those with some reputation but not yet top-tier—weren’t as glamorous as outsiders imagined. Behind the prestige lay blood and tears.
She finished checking all the equipment, even the emergency devices for unexpected complications. Serena sat for a while in the small cabin, making sure no one would disturb her, then finally stepped outside.
It was normal to rush from one surgery to the next when things got busy. But when conditions allowed, Serena still hoped for proper rest. She’d barely taken a few steps when she ran into Victor Yun, waiting for her.
"Can we talk?" Under the moonlight, Victor Yun stood there in dark robes—extraordinary, but a little cold and distant.
"Let’s go." Serena could tell Victor Yun still wasn’t relaxed, so she decided to play the role of confidante and listen to whatever was on his mind.
There weren’t many scenic spots in Feng Manor. After a short walk, they found a pavilion, had the servants light candles, and brewed a pot of tea.
Serena didn’t offer Victor Yun any flowery comfort. She knew he didn’t need it. Instead, she chatted with him about all sorts of things—patients she’d met, random topics that could spark a lively conversation.
Serena wasn’t especially eloquent, but she was honest. As they talked, Victor Yun slowly began to relax. Watching her profile, he finally asked, "Why did you decide to study medicine? It’s a tough road for a woman."
There had always been female doctors, but they usually treated women’s illnesses, and their patients were mostly women too. No female doctor had ever been like Serena—skilled in trauma and all sorts of difficult cases.
"If I said it was for the money, would you believe me?" Serena cradled her teacup, turning her face toward Victor Yun.
Her original reason for studying medicine wasn’t passion, or the urge to save lives, or because people around her couldn’t afford care and she wanted to help. It was simple: everyone said doctors made good money, so she picked medicine as her major.
No orphan ever has enough money. She’d been short on cash her whole life, so she understood its importance. When it came time to pick a major in college, she chose the one everyone said paid best.
Personal interests? Sorry, she never had the luxury to chase anything that lofty. You had to solve your basic needs before you could dream about spiritual fulfillment. If you couldn’t even feed yourself, what was the point of chasing ideals?
Thinking of how the imperial physicians had complained that Serena’s fees were too high to afford, Victor Yun nodded vigorously. "I believe you."
Serena was definitely a doctor who cared about money—hardly the image of a selfless healer. But that wasn’t quite fair, either. During the snow disaster, she’d treated victims for free, never asking for anything in return.
Victor Yun shook his head and stopped worrying about it. Thinking back to Serena’s earlier comments about medicine, he asked, "Serena, besides medicine, is there anything else you like or want to do?"
Rumor had it Serena was multi-talented, but anyone who spent time with her would realize she didn’t seem to have any showy skills—if she did, they were all related to medicine.
"I don’t know. I’ve never thought about what I like. Since the day I was born, all I’ve ever focused on is how to survive, and how to live better." Whether it was her past life or this one, Serena’s world had always been barren, and she’d long since gotten used to it.
Staying alive—and living better—mattered more to her than anything. Still, a faint bitterness lingered in her heart. Not wanting to dwell on it, Serena set down her teacup and smiled at Victor Yun: "Enough about me. What about you? Young master of the Young Clan, is there anything you like, or want to do?"
"Me?" Victor Yun pointed at his own nose, tilting his head with a nostalgic smile. "When I was a kid, I wanted to be a great swordsman and wipe out all the bad guys. Later, I wanted to be a top official and stamp out corruption. Then I dreamed of being the famous Young master, head of the Young Clan. Now? Same as you—I just want to live well."
"I thought your dreams were bigger! Turns out they’re as small as this little lady’s." Serena burst out laughing, her own lingering gloom swept away.
Ideals and interests don’t stand a chance against survival. As long as you can stay alive, anything is fine.
Serena’s laughter was infectious. Victor Yun relaxed completely and laughed out loud, not caring about his image. "I’m just an ordinary person, okay? My dreams are just like everyone else’s."
"Yes, yes, I admit my mistake. You, Young master Yun, are just an ordinary person—I won’t judge you by double standards." Serena played along, rising to bow politely.
They chatted a bit more, but with tomorrow so important, Serena sent Victor Yun off to rest—even though he was eager to keep talking.
Even if Victor Yun didn’t want to rest, she needed it.
"Thank you, Serena." Before leaving, Victor Yun offered a solemn thanks.
He was afraid that if he didn’t say it now, he’d never get another chance. He’d signed off on the treatment plan; his fate was in Serena’s hands, and his life might end tomorrow.
"No need to thank me yet. Wait until tomorrow is over." Serena waved him off, then turned away with easy confidence.
Serena’s relaxed, unhurried manner made Victor Yun let go of his final worries.
If Serena wasn’t worried, why should he be? With so many people watching tomorrow, all he had to do was lie there—Serena was the one who had to treat him. If anyone should be nervous, it was her.
If Serena wasn’t nervous, why should he be? Forget it… He’d just wash up and sleep. Everything could wait until tomorrow—if he still had a tomorrow.
Serena hadn’t said anything comforting or relaxing from start to finish, yet somehow it worked. Victor Yun’s anxious heart finally settled.
Serena was satisfied with that result. Back in her courtyard, she enjoyed a hot bath and went to bed early—slept soundly, dreamless, until someone woke her before dawn…