No Need to Feel Guilty About Striking Back

Leaving the Emperor’s bedchamber, Dr. Marcus Guile and the Valley Master were both silent, their faces dark and forbidding. The aura they gave off screamed 'stay away,' so much so that the imperial physicians waiting outside didn’t dare approach.

Serena quietly followed behind them. She was long used to the Emperor’s ways and felt neither anger at his actions nor any urge to defend the Eighth Prince.

Serena had always known: for the Eighth Prince, having a father was worse than having none. If not for this Emperor, the boy—with a mother who truly loved him—could have lived happily.

Sadly, no one gets to choose their birth.

Once inside the carriage, Dr. Guile could still hold back, but the Valley Master could not. He spat, "In all my years as a doctor, I’ve never seen a father this selfish. Does he really take us for fools? How can he say such fake, hypocritical things with a straight face?"

"Why not? Anyone who can become Emperor has to be thick-skinned and black-hearted." Serena chimed in, her mood heavy from the Valley Master’s words.

Ninth Royal Uncle wouldn’t treat his own blood like the Emperor does, would he?

"Even thick skin and a black heart should have limits. That’s his own son! He’s scared of dying—who isn’t? I’m afraid of death too. But no matter how scared I am, I’d never shove my own child forward to take the risk. What he did is truly despicable." The Valley Master was so furious his beard nearly stood on end. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got, itching to jab the Emperor with a few needles and leave him half-paralyzed in bed, unable to harm any more children.

"You don’t have a son, so that argument doesn’t hold." Dr. Guile retorted stiffly. "None of us have children; we’re in no position to criticize the Emperor’s fatherhood. We’re doctors—just do our job, that’s enough."

It doesn’t matter what the Emperor does—what matters is how they choose to act. Could the Emperor really control them?

Blocked by Dr. Guile’s logic, the Valley Master could only grumble, "You’re right. We just need to do our job. We’re doctors—meant to heal, not to change how he thinks. I used to worry that sabotaging the Emperor with medicine would violate a healer’s ethics, but now I see I was overthinking it."

Dr. Guile nodded repeatedly in agreement. "With a character like the Emperor’s, we can feel a lot less guilty. Works out perfectly."

They weren’t saints, but neither were they willing to ruin their own reputations by using their skills to harm people. When Ninth Royal Uncle first asked them to sabotage the Emperor’s treatment, they’d hesitated. Now…

Now, they truly didn’t see anything wrong with it. They weren’t trying to kill the Emperor—just making sure he couldn’t hurt anyone else.

Serena kept silent, gazing out the carriage window at the palace growing more distant. Her thoughts drifted further and further, until she finally just smiled faintly.

She was just worrying for nothing. Never mind that Ninth Royal Uncle isn’t like the Emperor—even if he were, she wouldn’t be afraid. She’s not Imperial Noble Consort Helena Hsieh; if Nolan ever tried to harm someone she’s decided to protect, he’d have to get past her first.

After a few more complaints about the Emperor, the three turned to planning the Eighth Prince’s treatment for tomorrow. Really, it was just the Valley Master and Divine Doctor Guile discussing—Serena was only there to listen.

At first, everything was normal—until the two started plotting how to sabotage the Emperor during treatment. The whole topic veered off course; as their ideas grew wilder and more ruthless, Serena had to cut in: "The Emperor isn’t stupid. If you do this, he’ll notice."

"With our skills, no doctor could ever find proof," the Valley Master vowed. Serena threw cold water on him again: "The Emperor doesn’t need proof. If he even suspects you, he won’t let you go. Even if he finds out you didn’t mean it, he’ll still take his anger out on you. Getting yourself dragged into this over something so small isn’t worth it."

Better to kill the wrong person than let one guilty party escape—that’s how those in power always think. It’s been that way both now and in the past, even in her so-called era of "human rights."

Human rights? Just a tool for those in power to rule the world. Any rights ordinary people have are given by their rulers—and you only get as much as they allow.

Want more? Sorry, that’s a crime.

"Serena’s right. Anyone allowed to treat the Emperor has to have their family background checked for three generations. If not for the special nature of the Emperor’s illness, he’d never let us near him. Just look at how many imperial physicians he called in—you can tell how wary he is of us," Dr. Guile said gravely.

Serena gave a light laugh and reminded them, "You were invited by Ninth Royal Uncle. Of course the Emperor is on guard."

"So you’re saying we can’t do anything during treatment?" The Valley Master was frustrated—if he couldn’t make the Emperor suffer a little, he’d never get this out of his system.

"Not only can’t you mess with him during treatment, you have to heal him so well his energy is like when he was young." Serena beamed, but to the Valley Master and Dr. Guile, there was something sinister behind her smile.

"Let’s hear it…what’s your plan?" The Valley Master and Dr. Guile exchanged a glance, then turned to Serena.

Young people really do think faster than they do.

"This isn’t the place. We’ll talk when we get back to Feng Manor." Serena wasn’t being mysterious—there just wasn’t enough time between the palace and home to explain.

"Fine, we’ll discuss it in detail at Feng Manor." The Valley Master and Dr. Guile had no objections, but they did urge the coachman to hurry up.

Once at Feng Manor, the Valley Master dragged Serena into a small cabin. "So, tell us—what’s your plan?"

"When you treated the Emperor, did you notice anything unusual about his body?" Serena didn’t answer directly, her eyes glinting with mischief.

The Valley Master and Dr. Guile exchanged looks, thinking it over. Suddenly, they realized, "The Emperor’s vital essence is damaged—was that your doing?"

They’d wondered before—how could a corpse-eating gu harm someone’s vital essence? Turns out, it was just excessive indulgence.

"‘Tampering’ sounds so ugly. I’m a doctor—how could I do that? I’m just looking out for the happiness of the harem consorts. The Emperor is getting on in years, and while his heart is willing, his body can’t keep up. But his consorts are all young and lovely—how could I bear to let them live like widows?" Serena looked utterly sincere. If the Valley Master and Dr. Guile didn’t know her so well, they might have been fooled.

"Brilliant," praised the Valley Master. "This method is safe and reliable. It may take some time, but it won’t arouse suspicion."

If the Emperor’s abilities improved, he’d only be pleased—not suspicious. The imperial physicians wouldn’t dare cross him, and even if they suggested he show restraint, would the Emperor admit weakness in front of his young, pretty consorts?

Serena’s words gave the Valley Master and Dr. Guile a whole new perspective. Instead of tampering and risking exposure, just heal him so well he’s bursting with energy every day—until…

It won’t take long before his body is completely drained. By then, even if the Emperor wants to investigate, he won’t know who to blame…

The Valley Master and Dr. Guile rubbed their hands together, eyes gleaming.

They were determined to make the Emperor pay!