The crowd pushed the two protagonists, who were about to undergo what would become the most shocking head transplant in medical history, to the operating room on the third floor.
Yuan Qingli was waving leisurely from the doorway, indicating that the operating room was available.
but.
The twisted doorknob and broken glass suggest that this operating room was not always peaceful.
Once inside, Lu Xingyun tied the counterfeit goods to the operating table, and Yuan Qingli slapped the carotid artery with a palm strike, the effect comparable to that of an anesthesiologist.
Fang Zhiyou squinted. That palm strike had just the right amount of force; any more would have been an injury, any less would have caused him to wake up. This woman was just too... adorable.
"Alright, Mr. Butler, you may proceed." Yuan Qingli stepped aside in a friendly manner and put on her gloves.
She even picked up a nurse's cap from the ground and put it on, preparing to do a cosplay.
The old butler looked at the familiar face and the unfamiliar body before him, slowly closed his eyes, and felt his chest swell.
What I learned in the army came to mind.
When I opened my eyes again, all the hardships of life had vanished, leaving only an unyielding determination.
The old butler reached out, his thin fingers acting as an invisible support, holding the object in mid-air, motionless.
"The knife." The voice was old, yet carried the glory of the past.
Yuan Qingli moved quickly and handed over the scalpel.
The butler shook his head: "A large knife."
Lu Xingyun: ...
Yuan Qingli:......
Fang Zhiyou: Is it really that perverted?
"Xingyun, the fire hydrant at the door," Yuan Qingli reminded him, and Lu Xingyun turned and left.
"Grandpa Butler, no! I'm afraid of pain." Wen Yuning trembled upon hearing the words "big knife."
"Miss, don't be afraid. After you get your head done, Grandpa Butler will take you to buy your favorite food."
The butler transmitted a message in his mind, and his resolute face instantly transformed into that of a gentle and loving grandfather, leaving Yuan Qingli and the others stunned.
"Here it is." Lu Xingyun said, carrying a sharpened axe. "Are you sure you want to use it?"
The butler even gave her a grateful look. It couldn't be better that the young lady, who had been lonely since childhood, had a group of teammates who cared about her.
"Who can ask?" The steward took the axe and raised it high.
His withered hands gripped the axe handle, his knuckles white and his yellowish calluses seemed to roar.
"Lian Po is old." The protective oil on the axe blade reflected the dazzling light of the shadowless lamp, and with a whooshing sound, it pierced through time and space and fell steadily.
Whoosh~ Puff.
A sharp weapon pierced his body; the axe sliced through his neck and tore the operating table apart along with it.
Wen Yuning's head was pushed away by the force of the splitting motion and rolled onto the headboard.
Yuan Qingli quickly took it and put it aside.
Guan Chang let out a long sigh of relief, his face looking several years older, clearly indicating that the actions he had just taken had taken a lot of effort.
Without a moment to rest, the butler took the scalpel and began to repair Wen Yuning's neck.
Just now, the cut was made three-tenths of an inch below Wen Yuning's original neck—after all, we can't let the young lady's neck be shortened.
But if it gets too long, it won't look good either.
The old butler's demeanor changed again as he held the scalpel, though this didn't seem to affect Yuan Qingli and the others.
This is not a housekeeper, but an undiscovered folk artist.
And that knife was not a simple scalpel, but a carving knife that would be used to carve for millennia.
"Miss, it might be a little itchy. Please bear with it, or you'll look like a giraffe." The old butler's voice was kind and gentle, and Wen Yuning's breathing gradually became steady.
The squeaking sound was like a mouse grinding its teeth.
Below Wen Yuning's head, pale skin, dark red blood vessels, pale yellow muscle, and deathly white bone fragments kept falling.
Lu Xingyun counted his breaths; no more than forty. The old butler had already finished the artwork in his hands and brought it to the bedside.
"Miss, do you remember how you pretended before?"
Wen Yuning's voice echoed in the butler's mind: "I don't know, I remember pressing it down hard and then it would be usable."
Then the three of them saw the old butler press his hands on Wen Yuning's temples and press hard on her empty neck.
Then it twisted and turned a few more times before letting go and leaving.
Yuan, Lu, Fang: It's... that simple?
This is no different from using a bamboo dragonfly.
"Cough cough cough..." Wen Yuning suddenly exclaimed, "My head hurts so much..."
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