At that moment, Zheng Changguo's voice came from beside him. "Little Friend Lu, have you found any leads?"
Lu Chen suddenly came back to himself and slowly shook his head. "Not for now."
"Then let's talk outside." With a wave of Zheng Changguo's hand, everyone followed him out of the room.
Before leaving, Lu Chen caught sight of several magical artifacts hidden in the room's four corners, divine radiance flowing across them.
Presumably, those artifacts were what had temporarily suppressed the miasma on Madam Zheng's body.
The group returned to the first-floor living room and removed their masks.
Secretary Fan served the tea.
Elder Zheng forced a smile. "Little Friend, do you find this difficult?"
After pondering for a moment, Lu Chen answered frankly, "Madam's illness truly is something I've never heard of. The miasma around her is soaring to the heavens—it looks as though she has contracted some kind of plague."
Elder Zheng let out a long sigh. "Call it a plague, yet it isn't contagious. Call it an ordinary illness, yet no medicine or remedy works. To be honest, Little Friend, before you came, no fewer than a hundred Spirit Cultivators who worshiped Medicine Immortals came to treat her. Even the imperial physicians were helpless. Only later did the Imperial Astronomical Bureau calculate her fate and identify the crux of it as 'Heavenly-Triggered Killing Intent.'"
As he spoke, his eyes reddened, and his voice caught slightly. "But so long as my wife still draws breath, I will not give up. No matter how great the price, I am willing to pay it."
Secretary Fan explained softly from the side, "The leader and Madam have shared a deep bond, standing by each other through fifty years, keeping each other afloat through hardship. Since Madam fell ill half a year