Tomorrow, Ninth Royal Uncle of Eastlyn will arrive in Lyndaria. Tonight, however, under their protection, Serena Feng was injured. When the Emperor fails to find the culprit to appease Eastlyn's wrath, he'll naturally need to vent his anger on someone else.
"Wonder if I'll be unlucky enough to get pushed out as a scapegoat by His Majesty, sigh..."
"It shouldn't come to that, right? Didn't Miss Feng say she'd petition for rewards on our behalf?" The man didn't realize he'd blurted out his true worries, making his companions anxious.
"Miss Feng's petition still needs the Emperor's approval. They say Ninth Royal Uncle of Eastlyn values her highly. When he heard she was attacked in Lyndaria, he dropped state affairs and rushed over."
The two countries' information networks aren't so quick. Eastlyn's officials will come up with a 'perfectly reasonable' excuse for Ninth Royal Uncle, while Lyndaria will paint him as a fool who puts beauty above the nation—nothing strange about that.
The Lyndarian Emperor certainly doesn't want Ninth Royal Uncle's reputation spreading among the people—lest ordinary citizens hear how formidable and bold he is, so powerful that even other emperors dare not speak up against him.
...
As soon as Serena Feng's group arrived at the envoy's temporary residence, they received the best hospitality. The Eastlyn envoy was there specifically because of Serena, and seeing her show up covered in blood, he dared not be negligent. He immediately opened the main wing originally reserved for Ninth Royal Uncle and welcomed Serena inside.
"Miss Feng, the hot water is ready. Please freshen up— the doctor will arrive soon." The envoy was a clever official, neither arrogant like the sons of noble families nor stubbornly proud like poor scholars who refuse to bow to the powerful. People like him, given the chance, always rise to success.
From the moment Serena entered, the envoy hovered around her group, but with just the right sense of distance—never too close, yet never out of earshot for her orders.
Being good at reading people isn't a bad thing; at least Serena Feng felt this official was efficient and easy to work with.
"You picked a fine official—capable and perceptive. Polish him up and his future will be limitless." Scholars usually dislike slick, worldly types, thinking they lack principles, but Serena believes that as long as they don't harm others, being smooth and savvy isn't a flaw.
For an official, only those who are worldly and adaptable, able to navigate up and down, can go far. Only by going far can they achieve their ambitions.
"I'll remember to put him to good use." With Serena's endorsement, even if the envoy lacked ability, Ninth Royal Uncle would make sure he had a promising future.
"R-Regent Prince!" The envoy stared blankly at Ninth Royal Uncle. With a thud, before his mind could catch up, his knees buckled and he knelt, repeatedly begging forgiveness: "Your Highness, forgive me! I didn't know you were present, I..."
Although the envoy saw Ninth Royal Uncle, since he wasn't injured and deliberately concealed his presence, the envoy hadn't paid attention. Now, with Ninth Royal Uncle speaking up, the young official was terrified.
"Get up." Ninth Royal Uncle coldly interrupted his apologies. "Arrange for a doctor to treat the others. You're not needed here. Leave."
"Y-Yes, yes! I'll leave right away." The envoy broke out in a cold sweat, deeply regretting his earlier eagerness to please Serena Feng, now knowing Ninth Royal Uncle was present.
Everyone in the court knows the Regent Prince gives the eldest young master a hard time, just because he likes to hang around Miss Feng—much to the Regent Prince's displeasure.
"Hopefully the Regent Prince won't remember a minor official like me." The envoy knew the odds were slim, but still held out hope.
Later on, when he was promoted, he still wondered if Ninth Royal Uncle had simply forgotten him, never realizing it was Serena Feng's single word of praise that gave him more opportunities than others.
Before leaving, the envoy took all the servants with him, leaving only Serena and Ninth Royal Uncle in the room.
Truly someone who knows how to get things done.
"I need to dig out the arrowhead. Find someone to help me." Serena leaned weakly on the long couch, activated her smart kit, and took out her medical box.
"The wound's on your chest. I'll help you," Ninth Royal Uncle said. It wasn't the first time, but seeing Serena pull something out of thin air still made his lips twitch.
If anyone saw that, they'd want to burn Serena at the stake. Who knows how powerful that Lyndarian National Preceptor is—how could he not be worried?
"Get me a mirror. I can do it myself." Ninth Royal Uncle's hands were steady, but not made for scalpels—he could wield a pen or a sword, but a scalpel felt truly awkward.
"You don't trust me?" It was his first time, but Ninth Royal Uncle was confident he'd do fine. He'd dug out arrowheads from himself before and survived.
"I do. But I'm a doctor, and I can still operate myself." Serena would never admit she was afraid of pain.
Whether Ninth Royal Uncle helped remove the arrowhead or she did it herself, she couldn't use anesthesia. It was his first time; even with talent, mistakes were possible and he'd be slow. To spare herself some agony, Serena firmly refused to let him do it.
There was once a doctor who performed his own appendectomy in primitive conditions—what's digging out an arrowhead compared to that?
In the end, faced with Serena's determination, Ninth Royal Uncle had no choice but to be her assistant, left doing odd jobs for her.
"Cut away the clothes near my wound."
"Alcohol..."
"Tweezers."
"Scalpel..."
"Hemostat."
...
"No, I can't go on. I need to rest." The arrowhead wasn't out yet, but Serena was exhausted, drenched in sweat, and slumped against the bed, gasping for air.
Stabbing your own flesh with a knife—even for self-treatment—most people can't do it. After one cut, you never want to make a second; that pain is enough to sear itself into memory.
Serena could stab herself without blinking while fully conscious, earning Ninth Royal Uncle's respect.
Ninth Royal Uncle watched Serena silently, saying nothing...
Alright, he admitted it—he couldn't have removed the arrowhead as well as Serena. In treating external injuries, he'd never seen a doctor better than her.
After a brief rest, Serena resumed the procedure. Fifteen minutes later, she'd dealt with every blood vessel caught by the arrowhead, slumped weakly against the bed, and pointed at the bloody hole in her chest: "It's ready. Help me dig it out."
Seeing Ninth Royal Uncle frown, Serena added, "Relax, it won't gush blood." She wasn't a Snow Wolf—just licking wouldn't stop the bleeding—so she wouldn't risk her own body.
"Mm." Following Serena's instructions, Ninth Royal Uncle pressed gently and pulled the arrowhead out.
Splurt—there wasn't a fountain of blood, but it still splashed all over Ninth Royal Uncle's face. Serena curled up, nearly biting her tongue.
Damn, that hurt. If I ever find out who did this...