The fever has broken!
Prince Titus of Lyndaria is recovering impressively. Serena nodded in satisfaction—finally, a patient making good progress. It soothed, if only a little, her battered sense of professional pride.
Seeing that the tension in Prince Titus's expression had vanished, Serena knew he had shaken off his inner demons. With his strong psychological resilience, she no longer worried her words might upset him.
"Your Highness, your overall recovery is excellent. If it weren’t for the injury to your feet, you could have gone home by now." Praise before criticism—classic doctor’s strategy.
Hearing Serena’s words, Prince Titus’s face lit up with joy. But before he could savor it, Serena’s tone shifted sharply: "Your Highness, your general health is fine. Now let’s talk about your leg injury."
I’m not interested in how you got hurt, or what you went through—that’s your private business, and I have no right or desire to pry. As your doctor, I just want you to understand: don’t think that having prosthetic limbs means you can live and move exactly like a normal person.
Both your legs were amputated. What you have now are prosthetics—no matter how well they fit, or how advanced they are, they’re still artificial limbs.
When I fitted you with them, I told you: these aren’t natural limbs growing from your body—they’re installed after the fact. They’ll need a period of adjustment, and they’ll never function quite like your original legs. You have to take good care of them.
I distinctly remember warning you: no long periods of standing or walking, no running or jumping, no excessive weight or stress. So tell me, how have you been following those instructions?
By the time Serena reached her second sentence, Prince Titus’s face had turned pale. Her words shattered his secret hope—ever since he could walk again, he had refused to admit to himself that he was a disabled man without real legs.
At first, he was cautious—afraid to walk fast or run. But after his first sprint went smoothly, he started ignoring Serena’s warnings.
Driven by stubborn pride, he treated himself as perfectly normal—insisting that the prosthetics were just like real legs. He pushed himself to prove he was no different from anyone else. Even when his legs ached, he ignored it, convinced he was fully healed. But Serena’s blunt words reminded him: prosthetics or not, he was still a man whose legs had been lost.
"I..." The joy froze on Prince Titus’s face, replaced by deep sorrow and unwillingness.
He could walk—he had legs again. Why couldn’t he be just like everyone else?
Serena snorted coldly. "Your Highness, human desire knows no bounds, but you need to face reality. This is my last warning: take care of your legs. If you keep pushing yourself like this, in less than ten years your prosthetics will fail. Don’t expect me to find another pair for you—even if I could, there might be no way to replace them. You won’t just lose the ability to walk; you won’t even be able to stand."
With that, she didn’t care whether Prince Titus could accept the truth—she simply turned and left.
She could only speak so bluntly because it was Prince Titus; with anyone else, Serena would never be so direct. But he was clever—only by confronting reality could he truly understand what needed to change.
When Serena rushed back to the cabin, the IV drip was nearly finished. She dismissed the shadow guard maid and changed out two bottles of medicine for William Wang Jinling.
Looking at the peaceful, unmoving William, Serena couldn’t help but sigh—then went right back to work.
Just as Serena expected, the servant who’d brought William tried to sneak out during the night guard shift. But Feng Manor’s guards were ready—they caught him at the gate, knocked him out to avoid trouble, and tossed him into the woodshed.
Early the next morning, Serena emerged from the little cabin, her eyes bloodshot and her expression so grim that the servants tiptoed around, terrified of provoking her.
But Serena wasn’t one to lash out at others. Exhausted as she was, she still held on—ordering the steward to deliver a formal request to the Young Clan, asking Victor Yun to lend her two senior physicians.
Two minds are better than one. As a Western-trained doctor, Serena was out of options. She knew William’s case had to be kept quiet—drawing the Wang clan’s attention could be fatal—but she couldn’t just let William sleep himself to death.
Before the Young Clan’s physicians arrived, Serena cleaned herself up and tried to nap on the bed. But anxiety kept her from sleeping soundly—she jolted awake in less than half an hour.
She barely had time to freshen up before a servant reported that Victor Yun had arrived with the Young Clan’s physicians.
"Serena, what’s happened? Why would you need to borrow doctors?" Victor Yun asked with concern—after all, Serena was the last person anyone expected to run short of medical help.
The request from Feng Manor had startled Victor Yun; he was terrified something had happened to Serena. As her ally, her downfall would hit him hardest. Seeing her alive and well, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.
"I’m fine. I’ve just run into a tough case I can’t solve alone." With so many people around, Serena didn’t dare mention William Wang Jinling.
"A disease even you can’t handle?" Victor Yun was baffled—and worried. If Serena couldn’t solve it, could his own physicians really help?
The Young Clan wasn’t what it used to be. Their best doctors now were about equal to imperial physicians—respectable in the medical world, but far from the top tier.
"I only know the basics." Faced with two senior physicians, Serena was humble—she wouldn’t dare act superior.
She was asking for help, after all. Both men were old enough and experienced enough to be her teachers—respect was only proper.
The two physicians appreciated Serena’s attitude. They didn’t make things difficult for her—stroking their beards, they followed Serena toward the small cabin she’d prepared.
Serena had already cleaned the operating room—nothing inappropriate would be left out. Still, the cabin’s design left the two doctors speechless in awe.
It was so thoughtfully arranged—every detail considered for the patient’s comfort. Fresh air, pleasant temperature, no smoky charcoal fires. Whatever Serena’s medical skill, her care for patients proved she had a true healer’s heart.
The doctors were even more impressed, their gazes growing kinder. Few outside the Young Clan knew Serena was their patron doctor, so the two had no reason to treat her as a rival.
These senior doctors devoted themselves to medicine and rarely met outsiders—they had no idea the patient on the bed was William Wang Jinling, the Wang clan’s eldest son.
The doctors didn’t know, but Victor Yun did. Seeing the patient was William, Victor’s expression grew complicated—he quietly tugged Serena aside, signaling her to step outside.
He hadn’t expected William Wang Jinling to be here...