Cannot Afford to Lose, This Is the Last Day

Ninth Royal Uncle never told Serena Feng about the pressure he was facing at court. He left her entirely free to deal with Jason Lan as she saw fit—live or die, he would bear the consequences.

William Wang Jinling understood why these officials refused to let go of Ninth Royal Uncle’s mistake. After some thought, he quietly sent Serena Feng a message: keep Jason Lan alive for now, at least until the trial.

Since Nolan Dongling took over as regent, he’s issued several reform edicts that benefit both the people and the country, but inevitably hurt the interests of old aristocratic families and powerful nobles—especially with the current road construction project.

Anyone with half a brain knows road construction is a goldmine. As soon as word got out, everyone scrambled to pull strings and grab the job. But...

Nolan Dongling quietly finalized the personnel list and even set up a supervisory office. This office was staffed by sons of humble families, noble heirs, great scholars, upright gentry, and eccentric talents from the public—such a mixed group that no one could show favoritism or buy them all off. Their people couldn’t profit here.

Watching the easy money slip away, how could the officials not be furious? Those who missed out held grudges against Nolan Dongling, and now that they’d caught him in a mistake, of course they wouldn’t let it go—they pressed him hard, hoping to force concessions. With the factions of the Taishang Emperor and Prince Zhou stirring up trouble, things only got messier.

Road construction is a major project for the country and the people. William Wang Jinling didn’t want it derailed by power struggles, so he quietly tipped Serena Feng off: as long as Jason Lan is alive, Nolan Dongling can find a reason to smooth things over and suppress the opposition.

“Jason Lan really is hard to kill.” Serena Feng couldn’t help but sigh. When it comes to power struggles, there’s no right or wrong—unless she exposes Jason Lan’s identity as a Lan heir, she truly can’t just kill him.

Every nation has its laws; every clan has its rules. Jason Lan’s case had already shocked the authorities and become public knowledge. If she killed him in secret, it would be murder, a capital crime.

“As long as you’re in Eastlyn, I refuse to believe I can’t take your life.” Serena Feng scribbled quickly on the paper, listing out the prescriptions one by one. She then sent them to the Imperial Medical Directorate’s physicians for diagnosis.

She could use advanced instruments to analyze the toxin’s components and match medicines accordingly, but traditional prescriptions aren’t just one plus one equals two. When these herbs are combined and decocted, the effect can be completely different. That’s why she needed the Imperial Medical Directorate’s physicians to diagnose and confirm whether the formula was usable.

And so, day after day, Serena Feng and the Imperial Medical Directorate’s doctors worked like this: she’d draft a prescription, they’d diagnose it, and if it passed, they’d decoct it and test it on Jason Lan. If it worked, they’d record the results. If not, they kept going...

After being used as a test subject by Serena Feng and the Directorate’s physicians over and over, Jason Lan was a shadow of his former self—haggard and shrunken, so much so that even acquaintances wouldn’t recognize him.

Medication takes time to work, and five days isn’t long. It took Serena Feng and the doctors four days just to find a barely effective method—the medicine’s effect was about equal to the Valley Master’s diluted Mystic Valley Antidote, but much cheaper and suitable for mass use among the poisoned commoners. Still, it was nowhere near enough...

“This won’t do. This prescription might fool outsiders.” Serena Feng called the imperial physicians for a meeting. “Handing in a formula like this only buys us time—it doesn’t solve the real problem. If it doesn’t cure, the authorities will still hold us accountable.”

“Time is short. We can submit this prescription first and figure out a real solution later.” Several white-bearded imperial physicians pleaded hopefully with Serena Feng.

It’s not that they didn’t want to be thorough—they just couldn’t think of a better way. If they had a true cure, they wouldn’t be stuck like this.

“This formula still feels one herb short.” An old man with a white beard stared at the prescription, muttering to himself. His words lit up the room: “Which herb is missing?”

“No idea.” The white-bearded elder replied bluntly, and everyone, including Serena Feng, was left disappointed.

After four days and nights of work, Serena Feng finally identified the structure of Ancient Corpse Poison. Using Western medicine, she could clear the toxin from patients’ bodies, but...

This won’t work.

There were simply too many poisoned people. In just four days, several thousand more were infected—over ten thousand in the Capital alone. If she had to treat each one individually with Western medicine, she’d drop dead from exhaustion before she finished.

Even with her medical ethics, there was no way she could pull this off.

“Let’s keep thinking—there’s still time. We have one day left.” If they truly couldn’t find a better solution, Serena Feng would submit the current prescription just to protect the imperial physicians’ lives.

Whatever their character, these imperial physicians were genuinely skilled. As for character? Serena herself wasn’t exactly a saint, so how could she expect them to be paragons of virtue?

With so many imperial physicians stationed at the Capital Prefecture Court, Nolan Dongling couldn’t come in person. The two could only exchange occasional updates through Serena’s people. Once Nolan knew she had a passable prescription, he was relieved.

The final day arrived. Serena Feng and the imperial physicians still hadn’t found a better formula. The physicians kept urging her to submit the prescription, but Serena held out, telling everyone to wait a little longer.

“Nolan Dongling said five days. Until night falls, the fifth day isn’t over—I believe we still have four hours. Let’s keep searching; maybe we’ll find a real solution.” Submitting the prescription would save lives for now, but it was also a hidden risk.

If—just if—a truly skilled doctor discovered the prescription was only a stopgap, they wouldn’t just lose their reputations; they’d be guilty of deceiving the throne.

Medicine is a high-risk profession. Make one fatal mistake, prescribe the wrong formula, and your medical career is ruined. Serena Feng couldn’t gamble her own career, nor the imperial physicians’—because she couldn’t afford to lose.

Though the imperial physicians grumbled, they knew Serena Feng meant well. No one objected—they just watched her in silence.

Four days without a solution, and now only four hours left—could they really pull it off?

Whether it was possible or not, Serena Feng had to try. At worst, things would stay as they were.

Serena Feng returned to Jason Lan’s sickroom. He lay motionless on the bed, thin as a skeleton. Serena felt no pity—there were countless patients outside just like him, and all of it was Jason Lan’s fault.

Serena Feng deftly drew a tube of blood from Jason Lan, not sparing him a glance, and turned to leave. Compared to the Valley Master’s medicine slaves, Jason Lan was already getting merciful treatment.

Jason Lan lay on the bed, eyes dull. Only when Serena Feng appeared did his gaze shift, locking onto her with a look that could drip poison...