No Disturbances, Just Enjoy the Moment

As soon as Zuo An entered the operating room, Serena Feng was entirely focused on explaining her requirements to him, completely ignoring his theatrically solemn and extremely reluctant demeanor.

In fact, even if Serena noticed, she would have ignored it. Right now, Zuo An was the only person she could rely on. Whether he liked it or not, he had to do the job. If she could lure him all the way from Xiling, she could certainly rope him into other tasks.

“Zuo An, look at this transparent flexible tube. Can you find the materials to make one like it?” Serena produced a plastic tube from her Med-Pack and handed it to Zuo An.

Whether it’s drawing blood, transfusions, or IV drips, this long soft tube is essential. Compared to other equipment, this is relatively simple. If Zuo An can’t manage even this, then there’s no hope for anything else.

Zuo An took the tube, examined it from end to end, then from end to start. Serena and her disciple Simon Sun watched him anxiously, waiting for his verdict. When Zuo An finally looked away, Serena quickly asked, “Well? Well? Can you make it?”

Simon Sun stood beside Serena, his clear eyes full of hope and his handsome young face so earnest that one couldn’t help wanting to pinch his cheeks.

Ahem... Zuo An coughed lightly, withdrew his gaze, and said seriously, “Hard to say. For this transparent material, just analyzing its composition isn’t difficult. But making it into a transparent tube like this is really tough.”

Such a long tube, made entirely by hand, would be exhausting. Serena understood this, too. But isn’t every industrial reform a step-by-step process? Human ingenuity is limitless—starting with handcraft, you can gradually develop toward industry.

“Just try your best; who knows, maybe you’ll succeed. Of course, if you can’t make the tube, it’s fine. Take a look at this small knife—can you forge steel as refined as this?” Zuo An said it was too hard, but Serena assumed that meant he could do it, and handed him a surgical scalpel.

The blade of a surgical knife is disposable and gets used up quickly. Serena hoped Zuo An could forge suitable surgical blades, so she wouldn’t have to keep worrying about rationing her Medical Ethics Points.

“I’m not a smelter,” Zuo An grumbled, pushing the scalpel away. Serena was about to persuade him, but Simon Sun spoke up: “But Brother Zuo An, you’re good at everything! Maybe you can smelt steel too. If you’ve never tried, how do you know you can’t?”

Simon was completely earnest, and Zuo An nodded obediently, his suppressed research enthusiasm flaring up again: “Simon’s right. If I haven’t tried, how can I be sure I can’t do it? Maybe I’ll figure it out by tomorrow.”

“I believe in you, Brother Zuo An. You can definitely do it. Here, look at this bottle—pretty, isn’t it? Master says it’s glass, and it’s spotless inside, perfect for storing medicine. Do you think you can make one?” Simon picked up a glass bottle and offered it to Zuo An like a treasure.

Zuo An examined it carefully, tapped it for a while, then suddenly smashed the bottle, picking up the shards to study them. After fiddling for a long time, he told Simon that he’d made something similar before, though not as clear or pure. He’d try again to meet the standard.

Simon’s eyes sparkled with admiration as he gazed at Zuo An, who was quite pleased and began telling Simon about his past experiments with glass-making.

Simon listened with rapt attention, then began handing Zuo An items from the worktable one by one, discussing their materials. The two fell into a perfect rhythm—one speaking, one listening—completely forgetting about Serena.

Serena stood there watching the two chat so happily. At first she could follow along, but soon she realized, to her dismay, that she couldn’t understand a word. All those technical terms and processes were beyond her.

Well, as someone being ignored and completely clueless about industry, Serena felt both frustrated and aggrieved. She quietly withdrew, leaving Zuo An and Simon to their deep discussion.

Sniffling, she decided to go find Ninth Royal Uncle.

“Serena? What brings you here at this hour?” Ninth Royal Uncle looked up from a pile of official documents, surprised to see her at the door.

At this hour, Serena should have been in the operating room. Why would she have time to visit him? Had something gone wrong?

“What happened?” Ninth Royal Uncle immediately set aside his paperwork and stood up.

“Ninth Royal Uncle, my disciple doesn’t want me anymore.” Serena walked in, putting on a pitiful face.

“Doesn’t want you? What do you mean?” That brat Simon Sun—could he be thinking of switching masters? If so, he’d definitely have the dark guards teach that kid a lesson.

Serena had no idea what Nolan was imagining. She told him the story with exaggerated grievance, then looked at him pitifully. “That’s how it is—my disciple has Zuo An now and doesn’t need me anymore.” She wasn’t truly upset; she’d just neglected Nolan these past few days and used this as an excuse to comfort him.

Honestly, if Serena hadn’t explained so clearly, Nolan could have comforted himself that she came because she missed him. But with her candid explanation, he couldn’t fool himself anymore.

The worry in his eyes faded into calm. Nolan looked Serena up and down, finally resting his gaze on her aggrieved little face.

“You’re the one feeling wronged? Your disciple ignores you, so you finally remember me. If you’re aggrieved, what about me?” He was actually the one most neglected—but he couldn’t complain, since he’d forced Serena to take on the Crown Prince’s case, and her exhaustion was for that mission.

“Aren’t you busy? I usually don’t dare disturb you. Men should prioritize their careers—I’ve said I dislike weak, love-struck types.” Serena tugged Nolan’s sleeve, rocking it as she spoke, insisting she was blameless.

“You always have an answer for everything.” Nolan looked at her, treating her like a little wife, and gently rubbed her head. “Alright, I know you’re busy. I haven’t been angry. As for your disciple, he’s an adult now.” In other words, you don’t need to hover over him all the time.

“Disciples really can’t be relied on—it’s still Ninth Royal Uncle who’s the best.” Serena’s aggrieved look vanished; she wrapped her arms around Nolan’s waist and leaned into his chest, all gentle affection.

Nolan’s lips curved in a faint smile as he hugged Serena back, resting his forehead against hers. The two stood quietly together. “I’ll always be good to you.”

Peaceful days, gentle present—even if such tranquility was brief, they cherished the moment.

But... there are always those who can’t stand their happiness. Just as Nolan and Serena finally stole a half-day of leisure, a horn sounded outside the villa.

“There’s an unidentified intruder.” At the urgent two-quick-one-slow signal, Nolan knew trouble had come. He quickly let go of Serena and pulled her outside...