I Snatched the Male Lead’s "Cool Novel" Script - Chapter 5

Yan Yu forced herself to quickly digest the current situation. The most urgent matter now was Lu Jia’s safety.

“Can you take me to see Lu Jia now?”

“In such a hurry?” Yin Beiqing slowly rose from the bed, taking over ten seconds just to stroll to the table. She poured herself a cup of tea. “Rushing to see it for the last time?”

“I might be able to save it.” Yan Yu felt her heart clench at Yin Beiqing’s unhurried demeanor. Summoning courage from who-knows-where, she grabbed Yin Beiqing’s wrist and pulled her toward the door. “Hurry up, please. You can drink tea anytime.”

Yin Beiqing detested others touching her body casually, but when Yan Yu took hold of her wrist, she didn’t immediately shake it off. Instead, she froze for a moment.

This person’s hand was completely different from her own—no calluses, with soft fingertips and palms, though they felt somewhat cool.

“You’re quite bold, sickly one.”

If this had been said during their first meeting, Yan Yu would have already shown weakness and begged for mercy. But now, her mind was solely focused on saving Lu Jia. She would dare not only to hold Yin Beiqing’s wrist but even to climb on top of her head if necessary.

She still remembered during her internship when a gangster pressed a dagger against her waist, threatening her to call an experienced senior doctor to treat their leader’s external injuries. Even then, she had continued treating the wound without changing her expression.

“It’s only because you are kind-hearted and approachable that I, a mere girl, can speak frankly without delaying important matters.”

Yin Beiqing raised an eyebrow, finally understanding the meaning behind Yan Yu’s words. By praising her with those two phrases, Yan Yu was trying to box her in, making it easier to overstep boundaries—after all, Yin Beiqing couldn’t harm her now.

Everyone knew that the Langdie Valley’s seal was more effective than the Empress’s life-saving talisman.

“It’s not dead.”

Even if it isn’t dead now, after a few rounds of your treatment, it’s bound to meet its end.

“I know… cough!” Yin Beiqing’s strides were too long, and Yan Yu followed too hastily, unable to hold back a few coughs as she lowered her head. A metallic taste of blood rose in her throat.

Hearing this, Yin Beiqing frowned and stopped. Thinking Yin Beiqing was disgusted, Yan Yu quickly said, “I covered my mouth. I didn’t spit on the ground.”

“Raise your hand.” Yin Beiqing’s face was cold.

“Huh?”

Seeing that Yan Yu hadn’t followed her instruction, Yin Beiqing lost her patience and hoisted Yan Yu over her shoulder, carrying her horizontally.

The familiar position once again assaulted Yan Yu’s fragile abdomen, nearly causing her to breathe her last and depart this world.

Do you people from Langdie Valley have a unified method of carrying people just to torment me?

…

Yin Beiqing showed some conscience when dealing with non-human creatures. Not only did she promptly give Lu Jia qi-replenishing and blood-staunching pills, but she also called someone to treat its injuries.

Sitting by the bed behind a curtain was a silver-haired woman named Ruan Yuemin, known by the title Puppeteer.

Langdie Valley had two chief guards and five elite warriors, all of whom were A-rank Animal Art Masters. However, the former were superior, with Spirit Power very close to that of S-rank Animal Art Masters. Promotion was only a matter of time for them.

Ruan Yuemin was one of the two chief guards. She possessed a naturally unique constitution, much like a gecko, with a powerful self-regeneration ability at astonishing speed. If her arm were cut off, a new one would instantly regrow.

She ground her own bones into several fine needles and used threads soaked and dried in her blood to assist in reattaching severed limbs of living people. Whether hands, feet, or heads, as long as the wound was stitched up and allowed to heal for a few weeks, the injured could move as flexibly as before. Hence, she was given the nickname Puppeteer.

Four or five medicine jars sat on the table. Yan Yu walked over and sniffed each one, frowning and shaking her head. They were all potent tonics. With Lu Jia having lost too much blood and suffering heart and lung damage, taking these medicines would accelerate blood flow—like adding fuel to the fire. If nothing was done, it probably wouldn’t last until evening.

“Is it stitched up?” Yin Beiqing stood behind Ruan Yuemin with her hands clasped behind her back.

Hearing the voice, Ruan Yuemin turned around. Her delicate eyebrows, high nose bridge, and pale, thin lips gave her a cold, aloof demeanor. Her black eyes were as pure as if soaked in ink, with no discernible boundary between the pupil and iris, making them unsettling to look at for too long.

“Yes.” She calmly packed up her tools. “But it won’t survive.”

Outsiders might mistake Ruan Yuemin for a healer, attributing to her an image of compassion and kindness. In reality, the opposite was true. She was especially indifferent to life and death. Even if it were her own blood relative lying there, uttering the words “won’t survive” wouldn’t stir any emotion in her.

To her, people and objects differed only in that the former could move and were more troublesome.

“Let me take a look.” Yan Yu stepped forward and lifted the curtain.

Lu Jia was curled up, its lips discolored and breathing labored. The scales on its back had lost their luster, dry and damaged, signaling its failing vital signs.

The broken horn on its head had been stitched up, and thanks to the elixirs, the surface wounds had improved somewhat. Yet it still appeared to be in great pain.

Yan Yu first examined the broken horn by touch. Ruan Yuemin’s skill was proficient but her style somewhat rough; it would likely leave an unsightly scar once healed.

The wound carried the scent of disinfectant herbs, which functioned similarly to alcohol.

Lu Jia’s injuries were too severe, and its low Spirit Power meant poor healing ability. Ruan Yuemin could do nothing more, having only given it a few pain-relief pills as a final act of mercy.

Yan Yu pressed several spots on Lu Jia’s abdomen and found no significant pain reaction, nodding in acknowledgment.

Considering the urgency and the lack of time to delay, Yan Yu decided to perform an emergency non-sterile surgery. She rolled up her sleeves, gently laid Lu Jia flat, covered its mouth and nose with a handkerchief, and habitually stretched out her hand to the person beside her.

When nothing was placed in her palm for a while, Yan Yu suddenly realized something and looked up. She wasn’t in a hospital, and the person standing beside her wasn’t a colleague passing tools.

Sure enough, Yin Beiqing and Ruan Yuemin were staring at her with expressionless faces, their looks as if they had already concluded that something must be wrong with her mind.

“I meant to ask if there’s a small dagger or blade I could borrow.”

Ruan Yuemin replied bluntly, “No.”

All her medical tools were made from her own bones, and she never lent them to outsiders casually.

Yan Yu turned hopeful eyes to Yin Beiqing, who let out a light chuckle, flicked her wrist, and from her wide sleeves—like Doraemon’s pocket—clattered out several blades, daggers of various sizes, and an assortment of hidden weapons.

The Lu Jia’s entire body was covered in scales, especially on its back, which were as hard as stone. Even its soft abdomen had a thin layer of scales. Yan Yu cleared a patch of skin, gently lowered her wrist, and the blade sank into the flesh. The skin was thick, making the incision somewhat laborious, but fortunately, the knife Yin Beiqing had provided was sharp, so it didn’t hinder her movements too much.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Ruan Yuemin spoke up.

Yan Yu’s expression remained unchanged, her hands moving swiftly and steadily. “Saving it.”

Her face was stern, and her focused profile carried an air of seriousness and detachment.

Catching the scent of blood, Yin Beiqing frowned and took a step back. Perhaps having witnessed this sickly girl’s ability to swiftly change expressions, she was no longer surprised by any outlandish actions Yan Yu might take.

“I’ve seen no fewer than a hundred beast tamers, but never one who saves lives like this. Are you trying to make it die faster?” Ruan Yuemin remarked.

Yan Yu didn’t respond. She used clean cotton cloth to absorb some of the accumulated fluid, lowering her head to carefully search for the wound in the lungs.

The Lu Jia had several broken ribs, along with a significant amount of fluid in its chest cavity. Most likely, its lungs had been punctured. An ordinary person probably wouldn’t have lasted half an hour with such injuries, but fortunately, the original owner had never neglected this beast companion, feeding it all sorts of rare spiritual herbs and elixirs, which gave it a self-healing ability far superior to that of ordinary beast companions. That was why it had held on until now.

“Needle and thread.” Yan Yu extended her hand again.

Ruan Yuemin looked at the fair palm stretched out before her, hesitated for a moment, then turned to Yin Beiqing with a questioning glance.

Each of her bone needles was crafted through excruciating pain from broken bones and meticulously ground over a week. A single finger joint could only yield five needles, and she used them with extreme care and reverence.

In the past, she wouldn’t have paid Yan Yu any mind, but now that Yin Beiqing had given her the seal, signifying her acceptance as one of their own, her attitude toward Yan Yu depended entirely on Yin Beiqing’s mood.

“Give it to her.” Yin Beiqing tilted her chin slightly. She wanted to see what tricks this sickly girl could pull off—whether she was truly a divine savior or just putting on an act.

Yan Yu took the needle and thread, thanked Ruan Yuemin, and began suturing the Lu Jia’s wounds.

The bone needle was somewhat thick, affecting the flexibility of her movements. Suturing the skin wasn’t much of an issue, but stitching the lung wound required extra caution. By the time she carefully finished, her forehead was beaded with sweat again.

This time, she was wiser and didn’t dare ask either of these two formidable figures to hand her a handkerchief to wipe her sweat. Instead, she lowered her head and rubbed the sweat off on her shoulder. Then, using the bone needle as a makeshift support, she secured it to the ribs to stabilize the area.

Once everything was handled, the Lu Jia’s breathing noticeably eased, and the sound of its breaths no longer seemed as heavy and labored.

Yan Yu asked for another thread to close the surgical incision.

After completing all this, she finally let out a sigh of relief. The pill Ruan Yuemin had given the Lu Jia not only relieved pain but also induced drowsiness. It wouldn’t start waking up until late into the night, so Yan Yu estimated she’d have to stay by the little creature’s side without leaving for the rest of the evening.

Yin Beiqing and Ruan Yuemin exchanged a glance. The former, shedding her previously languid demeanor, now had a glint of interest in her eyes.

Her actions were so bold, and she herself showed no hesitation, appearing highly skilled—indicating she had done this many times before. Yet even the well-informed Ruan Yuemin had never heard of such a treatment method. Could it truly be as recorded in ancient texts—that this sickly woman before them possessed the ability to bring the dead back to life?

“What kind of needle technique is this?” Ruan Yuemin leaned closer to Yan Yu, her dark eyes fixed intently on her.

Yan Yu, caught off guard by her pitch-black gaze, nearly cried out in fright. After catching her breath, she asked, “Do you want to learn?”

Ruan Yuemin fell silent, her dark eyes staring at Yan Yu for a few seconds before coldly turning away.

“One bone needle costs ten lu coins. You used three, so thirty in total.” Ruan Yuemin clasped her hands behind her back and walked out. As she passed Yin Beiqing, she tilted her head and said, “Deduct it directly from her monthly allowance.”

Yin Beiqing shrugged. “Aren’t you the one in charge of money matters?”

“Just let her know.”

Yan Yu pointed at herself. “I’m right here.”

Ruan Yuemin acted as if she hadn’t heard anything and left directly.

Yan Yu was about to ask Yin Beiqing what Ruan Yuemin meant, but in the blink of an eye, the spot where Yin Beiqing had been standing was also empty.

She shook her head, deciding not to dwell on the unpredictable nature of these two strange individuals. Instead, she fetched a basin of water to clean the blood and dirt from Lu Jia’s body.

It wasn’t until evening that a maid brought her food and a bottle of medicine.

Yan Yu ate a few bites and applied medicine to Lu Jia once more. The room seemed hastily converted from a storage space, and the bed was small. With Lu Jia already occupying it, Yan Yu had to curl up to lie down. She lay on her side, facing Lu Jia, and only felt at ease when she heard its steady breathing.

She remembered how, in high school, she had picked up an orange cat from the roadside and secretly kept it in a warehouse without her parents’ knowledge. But it didn’t take long for the cat to pass away due to parvovirus.

Although she hadn’t spent much time with that cat, the feeling of helplessness as she watched it gradually weaken and die stayed with her for a long time.

Fortunately, things were different now.

She gently tapped Lu Jia’s twitching nose with her finger. “You’ll definitely get better, don’t be afraid.”

As if hearing her words in its sleep, Lu Jia opened its mouth slightly, letting out a few unconscious murmurs—pitiful and helpless, as if seeking its owner’s comfort.

“She’s gone. From now on, I’ll stay with you.” Yan Yu picked up its scarred little paw and held it in her palm. “Are you scared?”

In the story, the original owner had been captured and fed to wolves on the day she attempted to assassinate Yin Beiqing. There was no reversal, no surprise—just a minor character whose fate was sealed in two sentences by the author.

Perhaps it truly understood Yan Yu’s words, as a tear slid from Lu Jia’s eye. Yet its body instinctively sought the familiar scent, leaning closer to Yan Yu.

Yan Yu softened her breathing, not wanting to disturb it. Suddenly, she recalled that in the original book, Lu Jia had loved the lullabies the original owner sang for it. Clearing her throat, she began to hum softly.

Yan Yu herself hadn’t heard the song since before elementary school, and the lyrics were hazy in her memory. So, she simply hummed the melody with her voice.

“Panpan!”

It was like a child’s voice, crisp and lively.

After waiting a long time with no further sound, Yan Yu guessed she might have been hallucinating and resumed humming her song.

“Paaaaa! Pan!”

This time, Yan Yu was one hundred percent certain she had heard it.

“Who are you?” She sat up, alert.

No one answered, but the Animal Spirit mark on her forehead suddenly burned as if something was forcefully trying to break out.

Recalling how Yin Beiqing’s Animal Spirit had made its entrance in a similar way, Yan Yu immediately looked up. Sure enough, a white mist was rapidly taking shape in the air.

It swirled around, spinning quickly, swaying left and right. As the outer layer of mist drifted away, it revealed inside… a fleshy little ball?

Author’s Note:

Golden Finger No. 2 acquired! Tomorrow and the day after will both be 5,000-word chunky chapters (hands on hips).