Chapter 178 Rewrite the Ending of Our Fairytale Story (5k)
In the present world, Starry University, hospital.
“At this point, the nerve stitching surgery is nearly complete.”
“99% of the severed nerve bundles have been bridged; next, it will just take some time for him to recuperate, and his nerve functions should be able to recover to their original state.”
The doctor, dressed in a white coat, was packing up his surgical tools while pushing aside the medical microscope displaying the nerve fibers. He stood up beside the operating table and exhaled a sigh of relief.
He was also a graduate of Starry University but did not belong to the university hospital. After graduation, he chose to serve the royal family in Granville and was highly regarded for his superb medical skills.
In his authentic role as a “court physician”, it was generally deemed impossible for him to return to the Starry University hospital to perform surgery on a current student…
However, the identity of the subject he served this time seemed rather unusual.
There was nothing unusual about the request coming solely from Hiltina… As the royal court physician, he was somewhat aware of some royal insider information and understood that Princess Hiltina had never liked to identify herself as a princess, let alone use such a title to act arrogantly or make unreasonable demands.
Nonetheless, on the eve of this neurosurgery, he had received a vague hint, or rather a warning.
It came from the empire’s second princess, that hint from Princess Ophelia.
As for the content of that hint… It made the court physician seriously suspect that if he botched this surgery, perhaps the next morning, his whole family might be encased in cement and sunk into the bay outside the imperial capital.
Of course, the actual hint he received was not that crude or simplistic.
However, considering the rumors circulating in the imperial capital, that little swan of the empire, the true character of the second princess Ophelia, along with her infamous reputation that could silence any noble’s child…
The physician felt that this was not just his baseless association or ungrounded worry.
In fact, after seeing the patient’s real injuries, the difficulty of the surgery far exceeded this court physician’s expectations.
As a graduate of Starry University, his night blade was called “Molecular kn*fe”. Though named as a kn*fe, this night blade did not have much of a formidable combat effect.
The greatest utility of the night blade “Molecular kn*fe” is that it allows him to conduct ultra-high precision micro-cutting surgery at the molecular level—such as carving a lifelike statue of His Majesty Aaron on a strand of hair is utterly feasible.
Thanks to such a special night blade, he became a medical authority in minimally invasive and neurosurgical procedures that require ultra-high precision, having performed countless surgeries and treated numerous complex conditions throughout his life.
But even so, the surgery performed not long ago was one of the few challenges for this court physician.
Fine plant roots had penetrated through the patient’s entire nervous system. Although they had long since wilted, the nerve fibers throughout the body were still being radiatively torn apart by the plant roots, spreading from the heart to the tips of the limbs.
Every bl**d vessel had been invaded and subsequently shattered by the wilted plant roots, with over eighty percent of the nerve bundles completely severed.
Simply cleaning up the remaining wilted plant roots from the patient’s bl**d vessels and nerve endings using the “Molecular kn*fe” night blade took a whole day and night of surgery.
As for the subsequent procedures of stitching broken organs, repairing shattered bl**d vessels, and bridging severed nerve connections, the complexity increased geometrically.
The surgery lasted a full seven days and nights, with the assistant doctor changing six times. If this court physician had not graduated from Starry University and was truly an extraordinary individual who had experienced the Night World, he might have fainted on the operating table long ago.
Regardless, this surgery, which involved the life and d*ath of two individuals, had finally been completed.
In this way, not only would he not have to face punishment from Princess Ophelia, but he might also earn some reward.
The doctor sighed and packed away the instruments in his hands, seeing that the medical waste bag beside him was littered with bl**d-soaked cotton balls and gauze.
He was organizing the surgical tools and instruments when he saw the medical records filled out with the patient’s information, and couldn’t help but ask,
“Rast, second-year student at Starry University, enrolled for half a year, nineteen years old…”
“Mr. Silver, are you sure this junior of mine is really only nineteen?”
The procedure to stitch the severed nerves and bl**d vessels required extremely high precision; under normal circumstances, the patient needed to be fully anesthetized; otherwise, even the slightest pain response could ruin the progress of the surgery.
However, with about eighty percent of the body’s bl**d vessels and nerves involved, such a wide-ranging neurosurgical operation, even with the physician’s experience, was not without its uncertainties. After one area of nerves and tendons was repaired, the patient had to confirm whether the nerve function was restored in real time to assess the surgery’s effectiveness.
Originally, the physician planned to break the surgery into many segments, applying anesthesia for each small portion of function recovery, confirming functionality before proceeding to the next anesthetic procedure—
But the patient named Rast directly refused this suggestion, instead requesting surgery without anesthesia.
Upon hearing this request, the physician nearly blacked out, thinking it was finally over for him after so many years of practice; he pictured himself as a cement post sunk to the sea if the surgery failed.
After all, as a court physician, he had seen too many seasoned military officials bragging before surgery, swearing off anesthesia after downing a bottle of spirits, only to cry like a two-hundred-pound child when the kn*fe was brought out.
But no one expected that during the entire surgery process, the patient, let alone rolling on the ground in pain, hadn’t even furrowed his brow—he merely silently watched as his vessels were pulled, the severed ends peeled from the neural sheath, and then stitched together.
“Well, maybe, probably, should be nineteen years old…” On the windowsill not far away, a large silver weasel swished its fluffy tail, “Anyway, that’s what’s recorded on the obelisk at Starry University.”
According to standard procedures, such a significant surgery must have a guardian or relative present, and it was uncertain how it happened… The weasel dean, whom the physician had encountered during his student days, unexpectedly occupied the identity of the patient’s relative.
It increasingly piqued his curiosity about the real identity of this junior named Rast, who had just undergone surgery.
To actually be connected to two princesses and Mr. Silver.
“In any case, just assume he’s really nineteen years old.”
Mr. Silver threatened harshly, “Don’t ask anything you shouldn’t know; just remember not to speak carelessly after you go out. Of course, feel free if you’re not afraid of some scheming little princess’s retaliation.”
Rast’s identity and background directly involved the secrets of the Night World, possessing the highest level of confidentiality; even in the entire present world, truly knowing the truth was no more than five people, so of course, Mr. Silver could not reveal the truth to this court physician—
Rast’s true age remained a mystery to this day, even he himself couldn’t be certain.
“Understood, understood.”
“Even though I have graduated from Starry University, the saying goes, ‘Once a teacher, always a father,’ so I will surely listen obediently to Mr. Silver’s teachings.”
The physician nodded and bowed, revealing that he had probably been bullied by Mr. Silver during his student days.
“I’ve never seen you so adaptable and slick before; it seems once you became the royal court physician and got closer to that old guy Aaron, there’s nothing good about it.” Mr. Silver flicked his tail, “Dismissed.”
“Understood.”
The physician finished packing up the instruments and prepared to leave. However, before exiting, he couldn’t help but glance back at the black-haired youth quietly resting on the bed.
So-called “pain” is a stimulus nerve impulse evolved by higher organisms to pursue benefits and avoid harm, an instinct engraved deeply within the human gene.
Therefore, every person is innately tender and afraid of pain.
But some people, due to having endured more hardships and faced pain numerous times, become accustomed to suffering… It’s not that they are not afraid of pain, but they can endure it.
It’s hard to imagine what this “nineteen-year-old” youth, who in Mr. Silver’s words appeared as just that age, has gone through to maintain such composure when his nerve endings were tugged.
If he had not personally opened up the other’s body, stitching every inch of tendons, bl**d vessels, and organs… the physician might even suspect the other was a robot.
A machine wearing a human exterior.
…
After the physician left the university hospital, Mr. Silver leaped down from the window and onto the bedside table beside Rast’s bed.
“You, rascal…”
Mr. Silver sighed, unsure of what to say: “Every time you end up in this battered state, I feel like the hospital is almost becoming your home.”
Its tail casually rested on Rast’s shoulder: “Staying here so long, my little fish treats are now tainted with the scent of disinfectant, and I’ve lost all appetite. Make sure to treat me to a feast when you’re discharged.”
On the hospital bed, Rast paid no attention to Mr. Silver’s complaints.
He only slightly closed his eyes and, after a long moment, spoke softly, “How’s Akshia? How is she?”
According to his last memory in the Night World, Akshia should have successfully left the Night World and returned to the current time node; the correct history, of course.
However, that was merely his speculation. Whether the Night World would create any troubles similar to what happened with Queen Helen, nobody could be certain.
“Well, Young Xiya has also returned safely.”
“Her physical condition is much better than when you returned, in that state where all her bl**d vessels and organs were shattered, barely clinging to life… She just appeared somewhat weakened due to extended slumber, but after a few days of recovery, she was discharged smoothly.”
Mr. Silver stood at the bedside like a cat, extending a tongue to lick its little paw: “She and Young Tina have visited you several times, but you were undergoing nerve repair surgery at the time, so I kept them outside.”
“As for her identity, we’ve investigated it and have gained some leads.”
“While the Night World is mysterious, it definitely wouldn’t act up for no reason; the reason Young Xiya suddenly acquired Queen Helen’s identity after entering the historical echoes of the Sixth Epoch… there must be some underlying cause.”
“From my speculation, Young Xiya and that Queen Helen are not merely past life or reincarnated entities.”
“But because they are the same person.”
“That Queen Helen—was Young Xiya’s identity before losing her memories and powers during the Sixth Epoch.”
Mr. Silver shook his tail: “Indeed, within Young Xiya flows the bl**d of the ancient God of d*ath; she is a perfect vessel created by that ancient God of d*ath and lived in the world with the identity of Queen Helen as early as the Sixth Epoch.”
“However, in true history, that ancient God of d*ath did not get the chance to revive, and the Sixth Epoch ended.”
“And Young Xiya subsequently fell back into the Abyss, trapped in a long slumber and self-sealing, until the Sixth Epoch ended… The Seventh Epoch, which we now inhabit, was then established.”
“You see, Young Xiya was discovered and adopted by the old dean while exploring some ruins… It seems that the location where Young Xiya was discovered was perhaps the Paradise City from the Sixth Epoch as well as the Abyss, the place where she performed self-sealing and slumber.”
Mr. Silver’s words paused a moment: “Although we’ve had speculations for a long time, for instance, the organization ‘Graveminder’ has endured to modern times, it was merely conjecture and had never received true confirmation.”
“And Young Xiya is the first individual we have confirmed to have truly crossed that period of the ‘Pale Era,’ surviving from the old era reflected in the Night World, all the way to today.”
At this point, a serious glimmer flickered in Mr. Silver’s ruby-like beast eyes.
This was an unprecedented discovery, even qualifying as a milestone in Starry University’s exploration of the Night World.
Through this discovery, Starry University was finally able to confirm that the numerous historical reflections projected from the Night World were not illusions occurring in another time and space, but genuinely intertwined with the world they lived in, connected to the present world.
This is a tangible reality, a real history that has been passed down to this day, and Akshia is the historical witness experiencing both the Sixth and Seventh Epochs, possessing extraordinary value for historical research.
“It’s just a pity that Young Xiya seems to have, in that slumber spanning an entire epoch, also lost the vast majority of her powers and almost all of her memories.”
While saying this, Mr. Silver couldn’t help but shake his head with some regret.
“Not only powers have faded with time, but she has long forgotten everything she experienced in the Sixth Epoch… If it weren’t for that, we might have been able to discover some secrets beforehand.”
“For example, the final fate of Sixth Epoch civilization, and what that epoch ultimately faced as the end catastrophe, what exactly it looked like.”
Mr. Silver shook his head for some time before suddenly recalling something, speaking again:
“By the way, Young Xiya asked me to tell you…”
“After you’ve recovered from your injuries and been discharged—”
“She wants to meet you, at ‘that place’ again.”
While saying this, Mr. Silver shook his tail in confusion: “Yes, that’s what she meant by ‘there’… I didn’t pay attention because you were in surgery, and I don’t know what Young Xiya was referring to.”
The little silver weasel took out a smart terminal from its sub-dimension, coiling it with its tail, unlocking it with its paw prints, and was about to open the chat software to send a message: “I’ll go ask again…”
“No, Mr. Silver, that won’t be necessary.”
However, the little weasel’s actions were softly stopped by Rast.
He looked at the smart terminal in his hand, the map application on the touchscreen displaying: “I roughly know what place Young Xiya was talking about.”
The Sixth Epoch and the present world of the Seventh Epoch.
An entire epoch, spanning thousands, if not tens of thousands of years, indeed can change many, many things.
Enough to cause a once-prosperous kingdom to perish, degrading into a ruin hidden beneath the dust… also enough to fade away noble, radiant ideals into a stark, ugly distortion.
Yet, some things will not change.
Rast’s gaze fell on a corner of the map application.
He had already noticed since entering the Sixth Epoch that although the place names had gone through many iterations with the changes of civilization and times,
The geography and outlines of many parts of the real world still vaguely resembled those of the Sixth Epoch; for example, the Broken Coast, the Endless Sea…
And the outskirts of the Paradise City, that cliff shrouded in the faint golden glow of sunset.
Even though the Paradise has fallen, and the royal city has returned to dust, that mountain quietly stood there, enduring through the tides of time, unperturbed by the ebb and flow of history.
“On that cliff…”
Rast’s murmur was very soft, unheard even by Mr. Silver beside him.
“Once again, rewrite the story of the caged bird and the young man, the story between you and me…”
“The final, fairytale ending?”
(End of this chapter)
