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He sat back down, asking, “Why did you treat his hand?”

“Because if his hand is healed, he can save more lives,” Si Fuqing explained, taking a sip of water. “It’s worth it.”

Yu Xiheng looked at her and sighed once more, “Mhmm.”

Si Fuqing’s healing abilities were indeed strong; by the next day, she was already lively and bouncing around.

She then went back to filming the show.

“You’re not well, don’t play the hero,” Sang Yanqing tried to dissuade her, but to no avail. “You don’t know, you really scared us this time.”

“I’m not a hero, and Great Xia has no heroes,” Si Fuqing replied nonchalantly. “There are only ordinary people who step up at every moment.”

Sang Yanqing was taken aback, “Where did you hear that?”

Si Fuqing blinked, “I heard it from Marshal JIANG. He was actually quite handsome in his youth, not as rough as depicted in the history books. A handsome uncle indeed, no wonder everyone wanted to marry into the JIANG family back then.”

But in those times of war, none of the nine JIANG sons had wed.

The youngest, the ninth son, died in battle at just fifteen.

He had the potential to surpass his father, but alas, he had no future.

Such was the cruelty of history.

Sang Yanqing had not yet recovered when Si Fuqing had already donned her white coat and entered the intern room.

It took a few seconds for Sang Yanqing to catch up.

Marshal JIANG?

Grand Marshal JIANG Haiping?

How did she suddenly think about this person.

But her artist’s love for history really could secure her another variety show directed by Director Qin.

Si Fuqing had taken three days off, which naturally could not be hidden from the crew.

Director Qin was anxious, “Your agent said you suddenly fainted from low blood sugar. Are you alright now?”

His life, he would say, was saved by Si Fuqing.

During the sudden sea tornado last year, he thought he was a goner, but Si Fuqing had saved everyone.

“I’m already better,” Si Fuqing reassured him, even hopping twice for emphasis. “Sorry for making you worry.”

“That’s good to hear,” Qin Director breathed a sigh of relief. “When you’re not here, filming this variety show feels so bland. Only Lu Xingheng can bring a few laughs.”

Si Fuqing’s expression flattened, “Are you saying I’m a walking punchline, Director Qin?”

“More than that,” Director Qin chuckled, “You’re the king of punchlines! You’re a genius. You wouldn’t believe how badly the interns have been scolded these past few days.”

Si Fuqing headed to the intern room.

As she entered, everyone looked up.

Wu Wanying’s expression was mocking.

A big star is still a big star; she takes leave whenever she pleases.

A few minutes later, Qin Yusong entered.

“You few don’t need to intern today, there’s an international seminar,” Qin Yusong announced as he walked over. “Wei Chengyun, Lu Xingheng, two postdocs, and Si Fuqing, come with me to the international seminar.”

The group left.

Chen Wenxin was incredulous, “Has Teacher Qin lost his mind? Why choose Si Fuqing?”

Si Fuqing was a celebrity, and she hadn’t participated in the variety show for three days!

Bai Jinxi responded, “She has privileges; it’s not the first day we’ve known this.”

Wu Wanying pursed her lips.

How could the show continue to be filmed with such unfairness?

Today’s international seminar was crucial.

Doctors from the Western Continent had come for the conference, inviting Qin Yusong and other chief physicians.

“Yusong, you don’t need to operate,” one chief physician said, “Just handle the theory.”

Qin Yusong’s hand had long been ruined. How could he participate in such a critical event?

Wouldn’t that be like sending a lamb to the slaughter, presenting a flawed performance right before the Western Continent?

If Qin Yusong’s hand trembled even slightly during the surgery, it could result in a fatal error.