Inside the secret chamber, Lu Chen accepted the jade slip and sent his true essence into it.
Yun Qingyue's handwriting emerged in his mind:
"Lu Chen, there is news of the Ten-Thousand-Year Soul-Returning Grass. Three days ago, a team of herb gatherers from Medicine King Valley discovered an ancient ruin deep within the Hundred Thousand Mountains of the Southern Frontier. Outside the ruins lies a patch of land of extreme yin, where three Ten-Thousand-Year Soul-Returning Grass plants grow. But the place has already been occupied by the remnants of the Ten Thousand Gu Sect. More than half the herb gatherers were lost, and only one escaped."
"An extremely dense death aura permeates the depths of those ruins. It shares the same origin as the lingering soul aura you encountered in the ancient tomb. I suspect that place may be connected to the Undead Monarch."
"I have reported this to Master. She told me to go with you once you emerge from seclusion. If your injuries have healed, come to Medicine King Valley at once so we may discuss this."
"Also: how is the injury on your right shoulder?"
After reading it, Lu Chen fell silent for a moment.
He handed the jade slip to Mo Qianqiu. After reading it, Mo Qianqiu frowned. "The Hundred Thousand Mountains in the Southern Frontier? Remnants of the Ten Thousand Gu Sect? The Undead Monarch's aura?"
"Mm." Lu Chen answered softly, his gaze falling upon his right shoulder.
There, a faint trace of barely perceptible ghostly green light seeped out.
Ever since he had read the words "Undead Monarch," it had twitched slightly.
It was light, faint, yet it had undeniably moved.
Lu Chen stared at that spot without immediately doing anything.
That lingering soul mark had lain dormant within him for over a month,