Little Pink Starfish

Princess, You Must Be Careful…

Yu Xiaoxiao pinned down State Preceptor Chengguan gently. “You’ll be fine,” she said firmly.

But Chengguan knew better. His injury was grave—he didn’t expect to survive. Taking advantage of his fleeting lucidity, he grasped Yu Xiaoxiao’s hand and whispered, “Princess, you must be careful…”

“Mhm,” Yu Xiaoxiao nodded before he could finish. “I’ll definitely be careful. Don’t worry, I can treat your injury in no time. You’ll be just fine.”

Xiao Wei, however, asked, “State Preceptor, who are you asking Her Highness to be careful of?”

At that moment, Yu Xiaoxiao’s hand brushed against Chengguan’s wound, causing him to pale with pain. He was no longer able to speak.

“You mean Mo Wen?” Yu Xiaoxiao guessed. “He already ran off. Let’s focus on treating your injuries first.” After all, Mo Wen couldn’t flee beyond the planet, and saving lives came first. As she spoke, she began performing a skin test on Chengguan to check for a penicillin allergy.

Chengguan fainted again from the intense pain.

Yu Xiaoxiao frowned. He would need anesthesia. She couldn’t synthesize halothane or isoflurane, but she could make ether.

Xiao Wei looked uneasy. Somehow, he didn’t think Chengguan had been referring to Mo Wen. Everyone already knew to beware of him—why stress it again? But just like when Gu Xinglang fainted on the palace garden path, Xiao Wei dared not pursue the thought. Deep down, he sensed that understanding the truth might bring something terrible.

Granny Wang arrived with Little Sha and some junior eunuchs, carrying the materials Yu Xiaoxiao had requested. “Princess, is there anything else you need?”

Little Sha took one look at the blood-soaked State Preceptor lying on the bed and immediately looked away, too frightened to keep watching.

Yu Xiaoxiao surveyed the supplies. “Start boiling the vinegar.”

Soon, the room was filled with the acrid scent of acetic acid.

She turned to Xiao Wei. “You’re injured too. Take a rest outside.”

Xiao Wei shook his head. “I’m not tired.”

As she boiled surgical hooks and fishing line in hot water, Yu Xiaoxiao looked up. “Xiao Wei, do you want to learn surgery?”

Xiao Wei’s eyes lit up. “Can I learn from you?”

Yu Xiaoxiao nodded. Medical knowledge should never be hoarded. The more who understood it, the better—it wasn’t something one person could shoulder alone. More doctors meant more people saved.

Xiao Wei was thrilled, but soon asked hesitantly, “Princess, I can read a little, but I haven’t studied much. Can someone like me learn medicine?”

Yu Xiaoxiao felt awkward. She was technically illiterate herself!

“I’m just worried I won’t understand.”

“This is surgery,” Yu Xiaoxiao explained. “Setting bones, stitching wounds—that kind of thing. It’s different from traditional Chinese medicine.”

“Chinese medicine?” Xiao Wei asked. “Then what kind of medicine is this?”

“Western medicine. Surgical medicine,” Yu Xiaoxiao replied, watching the tools sterilizing in boiling water.

Those were terms Xiao Wei had never heard before. He hesitated, then asked shyly, “Is Western medicine better than Chinese medicine?”

“You can’t say that,” Yu Xiaoxiao shook her head. Both aimed to heal. There wasn’t a better or worse. She’d heard people say Western medicine treated symptoms and Chinese medicine treated root causes, but in the apocalypse she never had time to explore traditional healing—too busy fighting zombies every day.

Granny Wang glanced at the unconscious Chengguan and asked, “Princess, are we just going to leave him like that?”

“Yeah,” Yu Xiaoxiao said casually. As long as he could breathe on his own, it was fine.

At that moment, Xiao Feng’s voice came from outside. “Princess, the imperial physicians have arrived.”

“I don’t need them,” Yu Xiaoxiao replied. “Let them go see Little Gu and Big Brother.”

Granny Wang asked, “Aren’t the imperial physicians useful?”

Yu Xiaoxiao said, “I already asked Big Brother to bring the civilian doctors who helped me operate on Little Gu last time. They’re better than the court doctors.”

Everyone fell silent. Saying civilian doctors were better than imperial physicians… if the court doctors heard this, wouldn’t that cause trouble?

“Granny, go receive them,” Yu Xiaoxiao instructed without looking up. She was still busy sterilizing tools.

Granny Wang agreed and headed out.

Outside, Daoist Tianxingzi peeked into the room from the corridor.

Granny Wang gave him a side-eye. “What are you doing?”

Tianxingzi turned and tried to run.

“Try running, I dare you,” Granny Wang warned.

The old Daoist froze.

She walked over and said, “Didn’t you say you’re a divine seer? Then tell me—will the State Preceptor survive?”

Tianxingzi began calculating with his fingers.

Granny Wang didn’t wait for an answer. She snorted and headed toward the courtyard, convinced this charlatan had actually taken the bait.

Tianxingzi called after her, “He won’t die!”

Granny Wang didn’t respond or look back.

Meanwhile, the imperial physicians, who hadn’t been deemed worthy by Yu Xiaoxiao, were led by Gu household staff to check on Gu Xinglang.

Xianzong was standing beside his son-in-law’s bed. As the doctors entered, he asked, “Why isn’t he awake yet?”

One doctor checked Gu Xinglang’s pulse, another lifted his eyelids.

Gu Xingnuo, granted a seat by imperial decree, sat silently watching, his face grim.

Seeing this, Xianzong tried to reassure him. “He has no visible injuries. Are you really worried about his life? He seems fine to me.”

Gu Xingnuo forced a smile. “I believe he’ll be alright too.”

Xianzong patted his shoulder. “What’s the diagnosis?” he urged the doctors.

Their conclusion was the same as Yu Xiaoxiao’s: exhaustion-induced unconsciousness.

“Then why hasn’t he woken up?” Xianzong asked.

“We’d like to observe him a little longer,” one replied.

“Do it,” Xianzong said. “Hurry up.”

An elder who had been quiet till now finally spoke. “Your Majesty, what happened here?”

Xianzong sighed. “It’s a long story. Let’s focus on Xinglang first—then I’ll explain everything.”

“Much obliged, Your Majesty,” the elder said.

“He’s my son-in-law,” Xianzong replied. “I hope for his recovery, not his harm.”

The elder began to bow in thanks again, but Xianzong waved him off. “We’re in private. No need for formalities. The child’s well-being is what matters, right?”