On the Knife’s Edge, Serena Is Harsher on Herself

It was as if the two of them had made a secret agreement. The moment Serena Feng turned around, Ninth Royal Uncle Nolan also looked up—their gazes locked, entwined with endless longing and unspoken emotion. In their eyes, there was no one else but each other…

With a scene like this, no one would believe there was nothing between them. Thinking of the rumors spreading through the city, Victor Yun and Holden Cui exchanged a knowing smile—both understood the truth now.

Rumors never start without a reason. This time, the talk was probably true—Ninth Royal Uncle Nolan and Serena Feng's relationship was anything but ordinary.

Su Wan lowered her head, hiding the unwillingness and murderous intent in her eyes.

Serena Feng, everything you have now should have been mine. I will take it all back, no matter what.

Her hand, hidden inside her sleeve, clenched into a fist—fingernails digging deep into her palm until it was slick with sweat. But Su Wan didn’t feel any pain; her heart hurt far worse than her hand ever could.

How could an orphan like Serena Feng win the favor of Ninth Royal Uncle Nolan, while she—a dignified daughter of the Su family—was abandoned by her clan and traded like merchandise? She refused to accept this fate!

Cough, cough…

Dominic Zhai made a displeased sound, breaking up the "deep, loving gaze" between Ninth Royal Uncle Nolan and Serena Feng.

This was just too much. With so many people present, Ninth Royal Uncle Nolan and Serena Feng were treating everyone else like air—ignoring them completely.

Dominic Zhai ground his teeth, his eyes sweeping back and forth between Serena Feng and Ninth Royal Uncle Nolan, clearly waiting to see them embarrassed. He didn’t believe for a second that they wouldn’t feel shy, but…

He was disappointed. Ninth Royal Uncle Nolan and Serena Feng acted as if nothing had happened, calmly looking away. Serena was even generous enough to give Dominic Zhai a smile, then pulled out a large surgical scalpel from her boot and turned to the Night City Lord. "City Lord, those hidden weapons mean a lot to me. Please allow me to retrieve them."

Without waiting for his reply, Serena Feng stepped forward and knelt beside the corpses.

"Serena Feng, what are you doing? That’s disrespectful to the dead!" The Night City Lord stood up, trying to stop her.

He’d already seen how powerful Serena Feng’s hidden weapon was and wanted to keep a piece to study, maybe even try to copy it. There was no way he’d let her take them back. But just as the Night City Lord got up, several broadswords blocked his path.

The way he had threatened Serena Feng before—Ninth Royal Uncle Nolan was now threatening him in exactly the same way.

If you have soldiers, you have the right to play the boss.

"Ninth Royal Uncle, what’s the meaning of this?" The Night City Lord was furious, but outnumbered and outmatched, he had no choice but to sit back down.

"City Lord, calm down. These men died in Eastlyn, so Eastlyn will take responsibility. Whether it’s one death, ten, a hundred, or a thousand, we’ll handle it. I don’t mind killing a few more if necessary." Ninth Royal Uncle Nolan’s words were a direct threat—if the City Lord made a move, Nolan would wipe out every single man he’d brought.

Serena Feng was just about to start extracting the bullets when she heard Nolan’s words and couldn’t help but laugh.

Let the wicked deal with the wicked. Anyone who dares to bully her must be tired of living.

"Pfft—" The scalpel plunged cleanly into the wound. With a flick of Serena Feng’s wrist, there was a crisp sound as the bullet popped right out. Not a single drop of blood spilled, and the incision was nearly invisible.

Such precise technique.

Holden Cui’s eyes flashed with amazement, and there was something new in the way he looked at Serena Feng.

Before this, he’d only had thirty percent hope that Serena Feng could cure his illness—he was dying anyway, so he’d take his chances. Now, he was fifty percent sure. Experts can tell at a glance: Serena Feng’s bullet extraction was swift and seamless, her scalpel avoiding blood vessels and any secondary damage.

She treated even a corpse with such care—not out of respect or caution, but because it was second nature. Serena Feng knew the human body inside and out, and her movements showed she’d done this thousands of times. The moment she picked up the scalpel, she found the exact spot every time, never missing by a hair.

As expected, Victor Yun’s eyes also flickered at Serena Feng’s actions. Both Holden Cui and Victor Yun were no amateurs—when Serena made her move, they immediately understood her true worth.

Serena Feng was fast and skillful; she extracted all eleven bullets, then took out a piece of white cloth, picked up the bullets one by one through the cloth, and carefully wiped them clean.

No one rushed her. They just waited and watched, curious to see what trick she’d pull next.

She didn’t disappoint. As she finished cleaning the last bullet, Serena Feng stood up, idly playing with her scalpel—then, suddenly, she moved, pointing the tip of the blade straight at her own chest.

What was Serena Feng trying to do?

At that moment, not even Ninth Royal Uncle Nolan understood her intentions. But he trusted Serena Feng—she would never joke with her own life.

"City Lord, how many days do you think it would take for a stab wound to the chest to heal?" Serena Feng smiled sweetly, but to the Night City Lord and Su Wan, that smile looked positively demonic.

"Serena Feng, don’t do anything crazy." The Night City Lord was startled; compared to Nolan, he was even more worried about Serena getting hurt.

If Serena Feng was injured, who would treat his son? Earlier, when he ordered his men to seize her, it was only on the condition that she wouldn’t be harmed—so she could still save lives.

"Don’t worry, City Lord. I’m a doctor—I know the human body well. If I stab myself, I can guarantee I won’t hit any vital structures or leave lasting damage, but I’ll still be bedridden for half a month." Half a month—by then, Reid Yale would be long dead.

City Lord, don’t blame me for being ruthless—blame yourself for being shameless, pinning every ridiculous charge on me. You should remember, you’re the one who needs my help.

"Serena Feng, put down the knife. We can talk this out." The Night City Lord was truly alarmed by her threat and hurried to soothe her, afraid she’d actually go through with it. He didn’t care about her life—but his son’s life was another matter.

"There’s nothing left to say between us, City Lord." If the atmosphere weren’t so tense, Serena Feng would’ve laughed outright.

The scene looked just like a cop trying to talk down a suicide—but she wasn’t a mentally unstable victim.

Serena Feng kept the tip of her scalpel aimed at her own chest, walking gracefully. The distance and position never shifted for a moment.

Everyone’s eyes were glued to Serena Feng’s knife, afraid she might slip and stab herself—or lose control and get hurt.

Everyone present was sweating with worry for her—even Ninth Royal Uncle Nolan, who felt a hint of reproach. With him around, there was no need for Serena Feng to take such risks.

Serena Feng looked utterly calm, as if the blade wasn’t pointed at her heart. She walked straight back to her seat and sat down.

She was ruthless—even to herself. Yet she could sit there, smiling, utterly composed, as if the knife weren’t aimed at her at all.

A woman like that was terrifyingly resilient. If you wanted to make her your enemy, you’d better strike true the first time. If you couldn’t destroy her in one blow, don’t provoke her—she was trouble incarnate.