The Immortal of Plague begins by establishing the root of lung fire.

"Dear Mr. Bharat, are you satisfied with this survey?"

The terminal announcements, mixed with the sound of baggage cart wheels rolling over the marble floor, reached Song You's ears.

He opened his eyes.

The view is of towering glass curtain walls, the night outside is deep, and the red indicator lights on the runway flash regularly.

The cold air blowing down from the overhead vents caused tiny goosebumps to form on my skin.

Song You straightened up. In front of him stood several Indians with darker skin tones, their suits tailored to fit their figures, and the gold watches on their wrists gleaming.

The young man who spoke stood beside Song You, wearing a dark gray custom-made suit and with his hair neatly combed. Song You scrutinized the man's profile, noting that his eyebrows and eyes somewhat resembled Meng Meng's.

This is Meng Meng's brother, Meng Wenyuan, the head of Ruikang Pharmaceutical.

Bharat, the leader of the Indians, put his hands together in a standard gesture of greeting: "Mr. Meng, your company is excellent. We will host you in Khalidwa, India tomorrow and look forward to meeting you."

"I look forward to meeting tomorrow." Meng Wenyuan returned the greeting with his hands clasped together.

Barat turned around and led his entourage toward the VIP passage.

As the Indians walked away, Meng Wenyuan let out a long sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing. Several of his accompanying employees clapped their hands, the applause echoing in the empty waiting area.

Song You clapped along.

A distinct downward pressure came from my stomach, and a hard, foreign object pressed against the stomach wall, rubbing up and down with each breath.

It seems the book was brought over, and the rule for items traveling between the two worlds has been successfully verified this time.

Meng Wenyuan turned around and looked at Song You: "You're lucky."

Song You lowered his hands and looked at Meng Wenyuan.

"Zhang Lihong, the one you reported by name, suddenly fell ill in his office a few days ago." Meng Wenyuan took out a pack of cigarettes from his suit pocket, pulled one out and held it between his fingers without lighting it. "He didn't die, but he's in a terrible state. I heard the whole department is in chaos."

"What specific symptoms?" Song You asked.

"Coughing up large amounts of blood, the cause can't be found. Two rounds of expert consultations have been conducted, but there's still no conclusion." Meng Wenyuan put the cigarette back in the pack. "Luckily, it's not some highly contagious disease, otherwise, as a close contact, you would have been forcibly quarantined, and you wouldn't be able to go to India tonight."

Song You nodded.

Before leaving the hospital in the afternoon, he removed the suppression of the inner flame and precisely directed the lesion towards Zhang Lihong.

The characteristics of the Lung Fire Root still apply in the spiritless world; it only targets Zhang Lihong, and the lesions do not spread outwards.

Just like when Jia Chunfang led the Xianmiao team, she was able to accurately knock down that chubby boy, which shows that the spread of the lesion is completely under control.

Meng Wenyuan took a step forward, closing the distance between the two.

"I don't care what your relationship with my sister was before, or what it is now," Meng Wenyuan said in a low, harsh voice. "Ruikang Pharmaceuticals is a business; the company's profits come first. If you can't do your job well in India, you'll still be fired."

"I understand," Song You replied.

"I had someone check your academic background." Meng Wenyuan took a half step back, restoring normal social distance. "Your academic transcript and clinical records from your residency training at the Second Municipal Hospital are flawless. Your professional qualifications are up to standard, so I agreed to take you with me."

Several employees around them exchanged glances, then quickly looked away.

They looked at Song You with more wariness. Someone who was parachuted into the seagoing team through his relationship with the boss's sister was someone who would easily be ostracized in the workplace.

Song You ignored their actions.

"We're getting ready to board." Meng Wenyuan glanced at his watch. "We'll arrive in New Delhi tomorrow morning, then transfer to a bus to Khalidwa."

"Mr. Bharat and his group aren't on the same flight as us?" Song You looked in the direction the Indians had left.

"They have private jets," Meng Wenyuan said, pointing to the outside of the glass curtain wall.

Following Meng Wenyuan's finger, Song You saw a Gulfstream business jet parked on the tarmac in the distance.

The gangway had been lowered, and several Indians wearing reflective vests were carrying black suitcases into the cargo hold inside the plane.

The feeling of something stuck in my stomach intensified, and my stomach acid secretion increased as I tried to digest the "Illustrated Compendium of Herbs" encased in flames. A sharp pain shot through my abdomen.

Song You bent over and covered his abdomen with his hands.

"My stomach hurts a little," Song You said to Meng Wenyuan, looking up. "I'm going to the restroom."

Meng Wenyuan frowned and glanced at the boarding gate sign.

"We'll wait for you here," Meng Wenyuan urged. "Hurry up, we need to act as a group later, don't fall behind."

Song You nodded and turned to walk towards the restroom sign not far away.

I quickened my pace, pushed open the glass door of the restroom, and found it empty. The cold light shone on the white tiles, reflecting a blinding glare.

Song You went into the innermost cubicle and locked the door.

He stood in front of the toilet, his hands supporting the tank lid.

The abdominal cramps reached their peak, and Song You mobilized the external flames within his chest cavity. The grayish-white flames traveled down his esophagus and enveloped the mass of matter in his stomach.

He bent over, opened his mouth, and gagged from deep in his throat. His esophageal walls were forcibly stretched open, and a stinging sensation came from the friction.

Song You gripped the water tank cap tightly with his fingers, his fingernails scratching white marks on the plastic surface.

"vomit--"

A cylindrical object enveloped in grayish-white flames was spat out of the mouth and fell into the toilet, splashing a few drops of water.

Song You, panting heavily, straightened up and grabbed a few tissues to wipe the drool from his mouth.

He reached into the toilet and scooped the object out. The flames subsided, and the book returned to its original size.

The cover of "Illustrated Compendium of Herbs" was wrinkled, covered with transparent gastric juice, and emitted a pungent, sour smell.

Song You walked to the sink and turned on the tap. The water washed away the sticky residue on the pages of the book. The book was made of a special material, and the Po Cang Guan items were not afraid of water immersion.

Water droplets slid down the rough paper, revealing the tiny characters and line drawings clearly without any smudging.

Song You turned off the tap and adjusted the outer flame slightly. The flame covered the surface of his palm, but it had no heat and could forcefully dry the moisture.

Place your palm on the book cover.

The moisture quickly disappeared under the firelight, and within a dozen breaths, the "Illustrated Compendium of Herbs" dried out, the paper regained its rough texture, and even the previous musty smell faded considerably.

Song You rolled up the book and stuffed it into the inside pocket of his suit. The suit was loosely tailored, so there was no visible flaw from the outside.

He straightened his tie, opened the stall door, and prepared to leave the restroom.

Suddenly, the sound of high heels clicking on the marble floor came from outside the restroom door.

Song You stopped and stood in the shadows behind the door. His body, tempered by the initial firewood tempering, had hearing and vision far exceeding those of ordinary people. Even through the wall, he could clearly hear the conversation outside.

"Hello, Mr. Meng," a woman's voice rang out, speaking quickly. "I'm Li Man, a pharmaceutical representative from the Second Municipal Hospital. Is Song You with you?"