"Save me!" The general's voice was extremely weak, but I could see that there was half a poisonous scale embedded in his wound - this was the technique used by border assassins. The silver needle ignited on the fire, and I opened his shirt: "General, bear with me." He groaned in pain, but stared at my trembling hands: "You are not weak."
Three days later, I had just been divorced by the prince and was taken into the general's mansion by the general's eight-carriage sedan. After ten years of hiding, I finally found the person who held me in the highest regard, who took off the label of "sick and weak" for me, and made everyone who stepped on me kneel down and call me "Medical Immortal Shen".
