Night Visit to Finally See Ninth Royal Uncle

As a doctor, Serena Feng considered herself quite responsible—she played five games of chess with Holden Clay, won all five, and felt invigorated by the victories.

Seeing Holden’s face turn green with every loss, Serena’s mood soared. There’s nothing more satisfying than crushing arrogant nobles—a day’s fatigue and hunger vanished instantly. The greener Holden’s face, the more relaxed she felt.

"One more game," Holden demanded. At this point, he wasn’t even thinking about the surgery in five days—he just wanted to win back some pride.

It was humiliating. As the dignified Young Master Clay, he’d actually lost in chess to Serena Feng—a mere woman. He simply couldn’t accept it.

He’d learned to read at two, recite poetry at three, received elite education since childhood, and mastered every refined art—especially chess, where he’d rarely lost even to national champions.

Today, Serena Feng had really shaken his confidence.

"No more. You’re not my match—the gap is too wide. You’re simply not qualified." Serena swept her hand across the board, scattering all the pieces.

Chess was mentally exhausting. She was tired.

Serena’s words were truly infuriating. Losing was bad enough, but to be told she didn’t even consider him a worthy opponent—that was pure humiliation.

Holden took a deep breath, doing his best to maintain his noble composure. With restraint, he said, "Just one more game. Only one."

He couldn’t balance his mind without at least one win. The first two games, he could excuse—maybe he was distracted. But what about the last three? He’d been completely focused, yet still lost miserably.

"Forget one game—even ten, you wouldn’t win. This isn’t real chess, you’re just following the textbook, every move by the book, no aggression or edge." Serena didn’t bother sparing Holden’s pride, her critique was sharp.

Watching someone play chess is like reading their character. Both Holden and William were raised as noble heirs—elegant, refined, and courteous. But William had a spark Holden lacked: a true love of life.

Holden wasn’t really a young man at all—he was like a tired middle-aged uncle in a youth’s skin, missing all the wildness and freedom young people should have, living as if already old.

At his age, he should be carefree, riding fine horses and living boldly—not scheming all day, calculating everyone’s worth.

"Lost my edge, huh?" Holden paused, picking up a chess piece and holding it in front of him. "Years bedridden have drained my spirit and drive—even my desire to survive."

If not for the unexpected trip to Eastlyn and meeting Serena, he’d probably be lying on the Clay family estate, waiting to die.

"No matter what, you should never give up the will to live. What’s the point of living like this? If you really want to die, go find a scenic mountain and wait for the end—instead of seeking me out as your doctor." Serena lifted her tea and ate two pastries.

Good mood only makes you forget hunger for a while—it doesn’t actually fill your stomach. Serena focused on eating, while Holden focused on thinking, pondering Serena’s words and whether his path as Young Master Clay had been a mistake.

Holden was so deep in thought he nearly struck a pose like The Thinker.

A quarter hour later, Serena was full and Holden was done thinking. Calmly, Holden gathered the chess pieces and handed the white ones to Serena: "Let’s play one more game."

Now that she’d eaten, Serena had the energy for another round, but chess wasn’t really her thing—it was mentally draining, and she hated losing, which made it even worse.

Earlier, she’d played to comfort the patient. But now...

If Serena was going to play chess, there had to be a price.

"Another game isn’t out of the question..." Serena teased. Holden, now clear-headed, knew exactly what kind of person she was—she’d accept anything except a loss.

"What’s your condition?"

"If I win, you arrange for me to see Ninth Royal Uncle. If I lose..."

"And if you lose?" Holden wondered what he could demand from Serena, but she just said something that nearly made him spit blood: "I won’t lose."

"So sure of yourself? What if you do lose?" It was a blow to his pride—Serena clearly didn’t see him as a threat at all.

Serena shook her head. "No ‘what if.’ I wouldn’t dare say that with anyone else, but with you, I’m confident. Make your move, Young Master Clay."

Holden gritted his teeth and asked, "Serena Feng, if I win, do I get to name any condition I want?"

"Win first, then talk. Someone who’s lost five games in a row has no right to make demands."

That one line stirred a pride in Holden he’d never felt before. This time, he was determined to give it his all—he had to win at least one game against Serena.

Losing six games in a row—utter humiliation!

What Holden didn’t know was that he’d keep breaking that losing record in the future!

Ahem, whatever the future holds, let’s finish this game first. Whether it was Serena’s words that woke Holden up, or his own sudden insight, Holden’s chess style changed—no more playing it safe, he started taking risks.

Which played right into Serena’s hands—her style was always aggressive and unconventional. By imitating her, Holden was practically asking to lose.

Of course, Serena wasn’t clueless—she still needed Holden’s help, so she wouldn’t let him lose too badly.

That left Serena with a headache—how could she win by just a little, without making it obvious?

Holden was a skilled chess player himself. If Serena made it too obvious she was going easy on him, he’d definitely feel insulted.

Serena really did have a headache now.

This was the most agonizing chess match Serena had ever played. They didn’t finish until dawn, and she only won by three pieces.

Three pieces was still a win, but compared to the dozen she’d won by before, it was a huge improvement for Holden.

"I lost." This time, Holden was genuinely convinced—and happy. Losing by just a few pieces felt like a victory to him.

"A bet's a bet. Thank you, Young Master Clay." Serena stifled a yawn, eager for a chance to meet Ninth Royal Uncle.

Ever since Ninth Royal Uncle was imprisoned, Serena had tried everything to see him. Betting with Holden was her last resort.

She trusted the power of the Clay family.

Sure enough, the Clay family didn’t let her down. When Serena woke up after a good sleep, Holden delivered an imperial handwritten permit allowing her to visit the Imperial Clan Prison—a favor straight from the Emperor himself. How Holden got it wasn’t Serena’s concern.

A woman always dresses up for the one she loves! No matter how anxious she felt, Serena bathed, changed, and made herself radiant before heading out...

Before leaving, Serena reminded Holden to have Owen Yuan move into Feng Manor that day—and to call Victor Yun over too. She had something important to discuss with him.

Holden wasn’t surprised Serena mentioned Victor Yun. If she hadn’t, he’d have questioned her medical skills—Victor’s illness was impossible for other doctors to diagnose, but Holden believed Serena could do it.

The carriage rolled toward the Imperial Clan Prison. Inside, Serena tried to calm her excitement.

Finally—finally she could see Ninth Royal Uncle. Serena wondered how he was holding up in prison. Had he lost weight? Had he... been tortured?