The Bamboo Horse clattered at the town entrance. Zhao Xing tied the Mechanical Sick Beast behind the saddle, then the horse leaped forward and raced toward Medicine Mountain.
On the way, Zhao Xing saw large numbers of Bamboo Horses leaping along the other ridgelines as well, far more than the two hundred and sixty expected. He did not know whether other halls had chosen the same examination content.
The ride uphill was bumpy for nearly half an hour. By the time they untied the Bamboo Horse, they had reached the vicinity of the beginner herb fields and medicinal grove.
The Mechanical Sick Beast behind Zhao Xing freed itself from the Bamboo Horse's restraints, jumped down, clutched its stomach, and rolled around on the ground.
It was not just Zhao Xing's mechanism beast. Looking into the distance, all the Mechanical Sick Beasts had come to life at once and fallen ill together, though their symptoms differed.
Some collapsed onto the ground, some clutched their stomachs and dry-heaved, while others held their heads.
It was practically a massive outbreak of illness.
Since the symptoms would only last half a quarter-hour, Zhao Xing had no time to watch how the others handled their mechanism beasts.
He immediately crouched down to inspect it. He found that the bronze skin on the Mechanical Sick Beast's head and face had reddened and grown hot, its eye-lamps had turned orange, its breath scorched his hand, its throat rasped, and its forehead was burning to the touch.
Hearing its low rasp, Zhao Xing immediately asked, "How do you feel? Where does it hurt?"
"Hot. Dizzy. My eyes hurt," the Mechanical Sick Beast replied in human speech.
It was not intelligent. Its creator had simply preset its voice.
The voice sounded rather old, and Zhao Xing immediately recognized Zheng