Do You Have Evil Fire Too?

"But what?"

Grandmaster Wu shook his head and did not continue.

He had wanted to say that the temperature of that arm was wrong.

But on second thought, he felt that description was too vague. Saying it aloud would only invite criticism.

"I'm telling you, there's definitely something wrong with that patient."

Grandmaster Zhou had far fewer reservations.

He glanced around, confirmed that no one from the City Lord's Mansion was nearby, then leaned in and said it.

"What's wrong?"

The others asked.

"I can't put my finger on it, but my intuition isn't wrong.

"My Martial Soul is the Spirit Healing Grass. My perception of vital signs is far sharper than yours.

"That patient's bodily functions are indeed all normal—heartbeat, breathing, Soul Power circulation, all of it. But—"

Grandmaster Zhou's expression was grave.

He paused, as though organizing his thoughts.

"But his body temperature is too high."

"Not the scorching heat of a high fever, but a... very strange warmth."

"I can't explain it, but that definitely isn't the temperature a normal person should have."

After Grandmaster Zhou finished speaking, he shook his own head.

After all, that explanation sounded rather far-fetched.

"Next, Grandmaster Shao Xin, please."

Shao Xin strode toward the inner hall.

The inner hall was much quieter than outside.

When Shao Xin entered, the first thing he saw was dark purplish-red drapes hanging all the way to the floor.

The drapes were thick and nearly impermeable to light, dividing the inner hall into two sections.

There was only one chair outside the drapes, clearly intended for the healing-type Soul Master.

An arm extended from the edge of the drapes.

From wrist to fingertips, its skin was lustrous and pale like warm jade.

It did not look like a man's hand, but rather a woman's.

The City Lord's Guard Captain stood beside the drapes and, expressionless, gestured for Shao Xin to proceed.

"Grandmaster Shao, please."

Shao Xin looked at the arm and frowned slightly, but said nothing.

He sat down in the chair, extended his right hand, and placed it on the arm's pulse.

His Soul Power slowly probed inward.

His expression changed from calm to surprise.

Then his brows gradually furrowed.

Shao Xin withdrew his hand and directly summoned his Martial Soul.

Sugar Bean!

He then used his Soul Power to create several amber-colored candies.

"These are antidote candies I made. They can neutralize any poison that isn't especially troublesome."

Shao Xin spoke.

There was no movement behind the drapes.

"Ah..."

After roughly the time it took to drink half a cup of tea, a faint sigh came from behind the drapes.

The candies were not taken and remained where they were.

"You don't like candy?"

Shao Xin raised a brow.

The person behind the drapes did not answer.

The smile on Shao Xin's face faded somewhat, and he turned around and walked out of the inner hall.

"Grandmaster Shao, how was it?"

Grandmaster Zhou and Grandmaster Wu both crowded over, their faces filled with curiosity and expectation.

"It's nothing. Just say there's no illness."

Shao Xin's expression was calm.

"No illness again?"

"We've already said 'no illness' four times. The City Lord's face is practically as black as the bottom of a pot."

Grandmaster Zhou's expression fell.

"Then just say you don't know."

Shao Xin waved a hand indifferently.

"What do you think it is?"

Grandmaster Wu frowned and asked in a low voice.

"His body temperature is wrong, but I can't say exactly what's wrong with it."

Shao Xin gave an answer that left everyone baffled.

"Wrong again, but you can't say what's wrong."

Grandmaster Zhou and Grandmaster Wu exchanged a glance and sighed in unison.

"Next—"

Jiang Ming stood at the end of the corridor.

His intuition told him that something was not quite right here.

A patient had invited so many healing-type Soul Masters, yet every one of them said there was no illness.

But the City Lord's expression did not seem fake, and those healing-type Soul Masters did not appear to be lying either.

That left only one possibility.

These healing-type Soul Masters truly had found nothing.

But how was that possible?

So many people had said the same thing.

The body temperature was wrong!

What was going on?

The steward of the City Lord's Mansion stood at the entrance to the inner hall, holding a roster with a long string of names already crossed out.

Nearly all the healing-type Soul Masters who could be invited had gone in. Those who came out either shook their heads or sighed.

Not a single one had been useful.

The City Lord's face could not possibly have become any darker.

"Is there any Grandmaster who has not examined the patient yet?"

The steward closed the roster and raised his head to ask.

No one answered.

The healing-type Soul Masters looked at one another.

Some pretended to straighten their sleeves, while others simply turned their gazes toward the window, as if the eaves outside had suddenly become incredibly fascinating.

What a joke!

Soul Emperors and Soul Saints had gone in and come out looking utterly defeated.

What use would people like them be if they went in?

Had they not humiliated themselves enough already?

Just then, a voice suddenly sounded from the corner.

"May I give it a try?"

Everyone turned their heads at once.

Jiang Ming stepped out from the corner.

"Young man, your Soul Power doesn't seem to have reached level twenty yet."

"Even Soul Kings and Soul Emperors like us couldn't find anything. What are you going up there for, joining the fun?"

"This young man must be desperate to show off. Is this the kind of occasion you can meddle in? You should weigh your own capabilities first."

"Exactly. Even Grandmaster Zhou couldn't find anything. What can a little Soul Master who knows where you came from possibly do?"

The expressions of the healing-type Soul Masters present immediately became colorful when they saw Jiang Ming.

The steward also frowned.

He looked Jiang Ming up and down.

He was just an ordinary-looking youth.

He did not resemble a disciple from any great clan at all.

The steward remembered him.

When registering earlier, he had asked about him.

Jiang Ming had only said that he was passing through the area, heard that the City Lord's Mansion was looking for healing-type Soul Masters, and came to take a look.

The steward had not wanted to let someone of unknown origins in.

But today's situation was unusual. The City Lord had said that anyone, regardless of who they were, could come in if they were interested.

But being allowed inside was one thing. Going in to examine the patient was another.

"You?"

"So many Grandmasters before you couldn't make heads or tails of it. What can a tiny Soul Master like you find out by going in?"

The steward's tone carried obvious suspicion.

"Everyone on the roster has already gone in, and no one else is willing to try now."

"Let me have a try. It won't waste much time."

Jiang Ming glanced at the steward, his tone neither servile nor overbearing.

The steward opened his mouth, wanting to say something.

But he also felt that Jiang Ming's words made sense, so he could only turn back to look at the City Lord.

The City Lord sat at the seat of honor, his face livid.

He had spent nearly half the day hearing "no illness," "I don't know," and "can't find anything." His patience had long since run out.

But Jiang Ming was right.

Everyone who could be invited had been invited, yet no way to deal with the problem could be found.

He knew perfectly well what was wrong with the person inside, but there was simply no way to deal with it.

The people in the hall did not even have the courage to go inside.

Rather than let them sit around here doing nothing, he might as well let this young man take a turn.

It was already a dead horse anyway—who cared who treated it?