The wound had split open!
Ninth Royal Uncle looked at the blood seeping from his wound and gave a bitter smile.
Some people die beneath the peony, their ghosts remaining charming; but what about him? He’d gained a little advantage, nearly lost his life in the process—no matter how he calculated it, this was a losing deal.
Ninth Royal Uncle took a breath, pulled out a strip of white cloth from a hidden compartment, and wrapped it around his waist several times. Only after confirming the blood wouldn’t seep through did he let out a sigh, tie a tight knot, and straighten his undershirt.
After finishing all this, Ninth Royal Uncle was so exhausted he could barely breathe. His steps faltered, and he leaned against the wall, regulating his breath with slow, careful inhales and exhales. Only after a long while did he open his eyes—fatigue plainly visible, his complexion ghostly pale. He didn’t need a mirror to know his condition was far from good.
He’d been injured again and again lately; worst of all, he hadn’t had a proper chance to rest after each wound. Even a body forged from iron couldn’t withstand this.
Ninth Royal Uncle dragged a chair over and sat down heavily. He didn’t get up until a servant reported that Serena Feng had finished changing the wounded soldiers’ dressings. Only then did he put on his outer robe, pinch his cheeks to make sure he didn’t look too ghastly, and head out the door.
The moment he stepped outside, Ninth Royal Uncle’s expression was as calm as ever. His dark eyes were as deep and still as a dried-up well. Serena Feng didn’t look closely at him either—she just gave him a quick glance and boarded the carriage.
Though she acted indifferent, what had happened in the carriage still left her awkward and unsure how to face Ninth Royal Uncle.
The ride back was unusually quiet. Serena Feng deliberately kept her distance from Ninth Royal Uncle, and he had no energy to provoke her. Each occupied their own side of the carriage, and so they returned to the city in leisurely silence.
Ninth Royal Uncle escorted Serena Feng straight back to the West District courtyard. As expected, several people were lurking suspiciously outside the gate. When they saw both Ninth Royal Uncle and Serena appear together, they quickly scattered, sneaking off with ambiguous looks in their eyes.
Serena rolled her eyes. She knew that coming and going with Ninth Royal Uncle was bound to cause trouble. Sure enough, she gave a perfunctory thanks, didn’t wait for him to say more, and headed straight inside—only then realizing she’d forgotten to bring her medicine chest down from the carriage.
She considered going back for it, but thought better of it. With so many eyes openly and secretly watching, carrying the medicine chest in and out would only invite more trouble. Leaving it with Ninth Royal Uncle was fine; there was nothing too unusual inside anyway.
The moment Serena entered the house, Mira and Jada came up to her, ready to report everything that had happened since she left the city.
“Miss, the effect of Master Marcus Wynn’s marriage proposal was starting to fade, but after today’s calligraphy contest, the rumors have flared up again. Now everyone’s saying you only won because Master Marcus Wynn and Ninth Royal Uncle like you. People everywhere are claiming you didn’t win fairly, and that Su Wan lost unjustly.”
“Miss, a few hotheaded people have gathered to make trouble, demanding you and Su Wan compete again. Luckily the authorities sent men to suppress them, so it didn’t get out of hand.”
“There are still people watching outside, and some bold ones even tried to break in. Fortunately, the guards from Prince Samuel Manor are here.”
“Miss, how should we handle this? Should we try to quash the rumors?”
You couldn’t really blame those outside for going overboard. After all, Serena’s win or loss affected the betting pools—and their money. Some were just stirred up by others, but most were shouting for their own interests. If things really got out of hand, they wouldn’t care; after all, the law can’t punish everyone at once.
Serena had already done her best to keep a low profile, but so many things were out of her control. With events having reached this point, there was nothing more she could do to change them.
Serena’s principle was always: do everything she could, then leave the rest to fate. At this point, she felt she’d already done all she could; if the outcome was disappointing, there was nothing more to be done.
“Don’t bother with it—let them gossip. All you need to do is keep the house safe. Once the duel is over, we’ll go live outside the city for a while.” If she couldn’t fight them, she could at least avoid them. Things had gotten so messy, she’d offend someone no matter what; Serena didn’t want to make things harder for herself.
Now, as long as Master Marcus Wynn didn’t make trouble for her, she wasn’t afraid of anything.
“Don’t worry, Miss. With me and Mira here, the house is absolutely safe.” Jada finally relaxed at those words. Turning the whole capital’s public opinion around wasn’t something that could be done overnight.
“Good, I’ll leave security to you. Heat some water—I need a bath.” Serena didn’t go to her bedroom, but headed for the study instead. She’d just changed dressings for patients and didn’t want to track hospital grime into her sleeping quarters.
“Yes, Miss.” Mira left at once, while Jada cleaned a towel and helped Serena wash her hands. After Serena sat down, Jada fetched a box from the study’s display shelf.
“Miss, I found this under the low couch while cleaning the study today.”
“What is it?” Serena was almost certain it was something Lance Quinn had left behind. She hadn’t wanted to look, but Jada’s odd expression made her open the box anyway. The moment she saw what was inside, Serena’s face changed; she snapped the lid shut with a loud ‘clack.’
“Besides you, who else knows about this?” Serena demanded sharply, her eyes blazing with anger. But her fury wasn’t aimed at Jada—it was all for that bastard Lance Quinn.
Bastard. Bastard. Such a complete bastard. She’d thought he was a good person, but—
That bastard Lance Quinn—he actually took advantage of her when she was down and stole her things. Hmph... Lance Quinn, any debt I owed you for saving my life is cancelled. If you hadn’t taken my gun, I wouldn’t have ended up in danger.
Serena ground her teeth. If Lance Quinn were standing in front of her right now, she’d definitely beat him up just to vent her anger.
Looks like that incident in the bamboo grove was connected to Lance Quinn. She’d gone there to investigate the Duchess of Duke Zhen and her child, but found nothing—and ended up fainting in a strange patch of woods, losing her pistol in the process.
(Irrelevant webnovel system message skipped.)
Serena refused to believe Lance Quinn just happened to find her gun. He was definitely there that day. Could he really be the direct heir of Duke Zhen? The ages matched up.
Serena’s face darkened. Jada was startled and dropped to her knees with a thud. "Miss, no—no one else knows. Just me."
“Good. You may go. Remember, you found nothing in the study.” Serena warned her sternly.
If word got out about the pistol, the fallout would be no less than what thunder-blast grenades caused. She’d gone to great lengths to get rid of Liam Li, and Serena really didn’t want any more weapon-related trouble.
“Yes, Miss.” Jada breathed a sigh of relief, secretly thinking that her mistress was growing more and more like someone in power. Most days she wore a smile and seemed easygoing, but when she got serious or angry, she was truly intimidating.
Serena put the pistol away, thinking again about Lance Quinn and Duke Zhen. The more she considered it, the more convinced she was that Lance Quinn was almost certainly Duke Zhen’s direct heir—otherwise, how could he show up right where the Duchess used to live?
The moment she realized this was possible, Serena felt the world was incredibly small. The legitimate heir to the House of Duke Zhen she’d been searching for was right beside her all along.
Still, that chess piece was probably useless now. Given Lance Quinn’s pride, he’d never stoop to claim the House of Duke Zhen. If she wanted to deal with that estate, she’d need another plan.
Thinking about the House of Duke Zhen brought up Yongchang Manor. Because of her duel with Su Wan, the execution of Marquis Yongchang and his household had gone almost unnoticed.
When it came to Yongchang Manor, Serena genuinely felt she’d done a good deed. If not for her, Marquis Yongchang would have kept harming innocent people.
Anyone who could raise a son to be such a spoiled brute couldn’t be much better himself. Marquis Yongchang bullied men and women alike, and even preyed on court officials.
Once, to seize a subordinate’s wife, Marquis Yongchang accused the man of being a traitor from the Former Dynasty, had his family executed, and then brazenly took the widow for himself.
Marquis Yongchang and Duke Zhen were truly two of a kind. Duke Zhen liked little boys; Marquis Yongchang preferred young girls and pregnant women. During the confiscation, they found a ‘little black room’ in Yongchang Manor, packed with more than twenty naked girls.
The oldest was twelve, the youngest just six. All of them were pale, thin, vacant-eyed, and covered in wounds—left there to die after Marquis Yongchang tired of them.
When Serena learned about this, her heart twisted painfully. She remembered Xavier, the boy who died in the Bloodcloak Guard’s dungeon—he’d traded his eyes for her promise of revenge, but she’d never managed to fulfill it.
Serena never thought of herself as kind, but after hearing all this, she couldn’t just do nothing. She had Mira and Jada quietly buy a courtyard outside the city, then bought every unclaimed girl from Yongchang Manor and sent them there to recuperate.
After her duel with Su Wan was over, Serena planned to visit the girls. If possible, she would try to treat them. They were just as pitiful as Xavier—only luckier, because they were still alive.
Serena sat in her study, brooding over all these messy, troubling things. The more she thought, the worse she felt. She knew that no matter the era, there would always be darkness and cruelty she couldn’t fix—but as long as she didn’t encounter it, that was fine. If she did, she absolutely couldn’t just stand by. It wasn’t about heroism or kindness; she just didn’t want to live with a guilty conscience.
Only when Mira came in to tell her the bath was ready did Serena finally pull herself out of her thoughts and stop dwelling on what made her so upset.
After bathing, it was time for dinner. She’d already eaten plenty of snacks in Ninth Royal Uncle’s carriage, so Serena barely touched her evening meal—just half a bowl before having Mira and Jada clear the table.
Mira and Jada were worried. Their mistress never ate much, but tonight she’d eaten even less. Mira wanted to say something, but Jada tugged her sleeve and signaled her to keep quiet.
Mira asked Jada what was wrong, but Jada just shook her head and refused to explain.
Jada guessed their mistress was in a bad mood—probably because of that strange thing in the study. But since Serena had told her not to talk about it, she kept silent.
Knowing Serena was upset, the two maids didn’t dare say much. They tidied up and left, reminding the rest of the household not to disturb her unless necessary.
Serena paced outside for a while, only returning to her room after nightfall. The moment she opened the door, she saw Lance Quinn sitting there, waiting for her...