Blood—thick, dark, and viscous—poured from the Eighth Prince’s mouth, its color nothing like that of a normal human. Yet none of those present were surprised.
The Eighth Prince was infected with Gu poison; blood like this was to be expected. But...
Not just from his mouth—blood was also seeping from the corners of his eyes, his nostrils, and both ears. It was the infamous 'bleeding from seven apertures.'
Was the Eighth Prince going to die from bleeding out of all seven apertures?
At that moment, everyone’s hearts leapt into their throats. They weren’t truly worried about the Eighth Prince’s life; what concerned them more was that Dr. Marcus Guile and the Valley Master might fail to extract the Gu.
Only Imperial Noble Consort Helena Hsieh—out of all those present—was genuinely afraid for the Eighth Prince. Her eyes were wide open, lips bitten bloody to keep herself from sobbing, her palms gouged raw by her own nails, her whole body trembling uncontrollably.
Helena Hsieh was terrified—terrified that her Little Eight would die right in front of her eyes.
“Little Eight...” Helena Hsieh’s voice was so low that only she could hear it.
In stark contrast, as the Eighth Prince’s father, the Emperor watched the scene with nothing but a sharp glint in his eyes.
When his own Gu poison flared up, it looked exactly like this. The Eighth Prince’s current state meant the Gu had been triggered. But what would these two master doctors do next?
Were they going to stop the bleeding, just like the imperial physicians would?
But to the Emperor’s and the imperial physicians’ surprise, Dr. Marcus Guile did not stop the bleeding. Instead, he took out three boneless, jet-black soft worms from a box and placed them on the Eighth Prince’s face.
The three worms, boneless and soft, crawled slowly across the Eighth Prince’s face. Wherever they passed, the dark blood vanished, and his skin regained its original color.
“Are those bloodsucking worms?” one imperial physician whispered. As expected, no one answered his question.
Though the three bloodsucking worms looked small, they moved incredibly fast. In no time, they had sucked every trace of blood from the Eighth Prince’s face. Just as they were about to keep feeding, Dr. Marcus Guile took a silver needle, dipped it in a bit of medicinal powder, and poked each worm.
The three black worms instantly went rigid. Serena quickly plucked them off and tossed them into a porcelain container.
A faint hiss could be heard, but the sound was so quick and soft that everyone thought they must have imagined it.
The Eighth Prince was still crying. Aside from Imperial Noble Consort Helena Hsieh, probably no one cared about his cries—not even Serena.
It wasn’t that Serena was cold-hearted; it was simply that nothing could comfort the Eighth Prince in this state. The pain of Gu poison would be unbearable for an adult—let alone for a child this small.
The fact that the Eighth Prince could still cry was actually a good sign—it meant he still had breath left and wouldn’t die just yet.
Once the dark blood was sucked away, everyone saw the Eighth Prince’s swollen belly visibly deflate before their eyes. At that moment, Serena forced a bowl of medicine down his throat.
Even from a distance, the crowd could smell the strong medicinal scent. No one needed to guess—it was obviously an extremely bitter concoction. Yet the Eighth Prince swallowed every drop without spilling a single one.
As soon as the medicine went down, the Eighth Prince’s cries slowly faded. His tiny hands and body stopped writhing; he nestled quietly in Serena’s arms, his face innocent and peaceful...
Seeing the Eighth Prince’s tranquil expression, with no trace of pain, Imperial Noble Consort Helena Hsieh finally breathed a sigh of relief. Her hands relaxed a little, and her eyes regained some light.
Her Little Eight would survive—he had to.
Serena glanced at Imperial Noble Consort Helena Hsieh, who looked half-crazed, sitting on the floor with unfocused eyes. Serena shook her head slightly.
The truly terrifying part of the treatment hadn’t even begun yet. Both the Eighth Prince and Helena Hsieh were in for much more...
After the time it takes for one stick of incense to burn, the Eighth Prince fell asleep curled in Serena’s arms. The Valley Master checked him again, then signaled Dr. Marcus Guile with a look. Dr. Guile stepped forward and removed the golden needles, and Serena immediately turned and put the Eighth Prince into the water.
The water was still uncomfortably hot—at this point, soaking in it was anything but pleasant. The moment the Eighth Prince hit the water, he started struggling, but with his tiny strength, how could he possibly fight an adult?
Serena gripped the Eighth Prince by the armpits, holding him down in the water. Whether or not he was comfortable was not the concern right now.
The Gu parasite was inside the Eighth Prince; if he was comfortable, so was the parasite. But the process of drawing the Gu out was anything but comfortable—a soothing environment would only lull the parasite into staying put.
Dr. Marcus Guile took a porcelain bottle out of the box, uncorked it, and poured the liquid into the water.
Plop—the contents of the bottle hit the water, and the whole barrel instantly turned black, writhing and shifting nonstop.
“What is that?” An imperial physician craned his neck to look but couldn’t make sense of it.
Serena was closest—she could see everything most clearly.
What was in the water wasn’t medicine—it was worms. Countless black worms floated on the surface, and the sight was anything but pleasant.
At that moment, the Eighth Prince started crying again in the water, his small belly pulsing and swelling, the bulge shifting and gradually moving upward...
The bulge rose at his chest, then a little higher, bit by bit, until it reached his throat...
At that moment, the Valley Master suddenly stepped forward, pressing down on the Eighth Prince’s forehead and tilting his head back to expose his neck.
Everyone could clearly see the bulge at the Eighth Prince’s throat—even Imperial Noble Consort Helena Hsieh, who knew nothing of medicine, understood that whatever was swelling there had to be the Gu parasite.
No one dared blink, hoping the Gu parasite would keep moving up and leap out from the prince’s mouth.
But that was impossible. The corpse-devouring Gu was extremely sensitive to the outside air—it would never jump out from the mouth. If it sensed anything amiss, it would instantly retreat, making it even harder to lure out next time.
So Dr. Marcus Guile wouldn’t give it a chance. When the Gu parasite reached the throat, his eyes turned razor-sharp—less like a physician, more like an assassin.
At some point, a sharp dagger had appeared in Dr. Marcus Guile’s hand. The instant the bulge rose at the Eighth Prince’s throat, he slashed at it with the blade...
With a sickening squelch, the Eighth Prince’s cries stopped. A spray of crimson arced through the air, leaving everyone frozen in shock.
This—this was murder...
“Ah... Little Eight!” Helena Hsieh cried out in anguish and collapsed.
The Emperor stumbled, drenched in sweat from head to toe.
But Serena and her two companions remained unmoved. Serena swiftly pulled the Eighth Prince out, while the Valley Master sprinkled medicine onto his wound, stopping the bleeding almost instantly.
Dr. Marcus Guile stood off to the side, a faint, exhausted smile on his face.
“Old Guo, are you alright?” The Valley Master stepped up to support Dr. Marcus Guile, pulled a bottle from his belt, and tossed it to him. “Take one pill.”
“I’m fine,” Dr. Marcus Guile replied weakly. His grip loosened, and the dagger clattered to the floor.
Everyone jumped in fright. Once they recovered, they glanced at each other, wanting to approach but too afraid. Seeing Serena bandaging the Eighth Prince’s wound—and even sticking needles into his buttocks—they wondered: Was the Eighth Prince not dead after all?
The imperial physicians were intensely curious, all turning to the Emperor in hopes he would step forward and ask, to resolve their doubts.
The Emperor hesitated for a moment but chose not to interrupt. He simply stood by and watched, while his attendant carefully wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief.
After swallowing the pill and catching his breath, Dr. Marcus Guile could just barely stand. He asked, panting, "How is the Eighth Prince?"
Everyone craned their necks, looking expectantly at Serena. They wanted to know the answer too...