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

The gate creaked shut behind them, the muffled sound isolating them from the outside world.

Following the crowd, Song You stepped into the interior of Po Cang Temple. The temple's architectural layout was unexpectedly grand, with flying eaves, brackets, carved beams, and painted rafters, revealing its former glory everywhere.

Now, however, large patches of paint have peeled off the beams and pillars, and the grass and trees in the courtyard are withered and yellow, presenting a scene of desolation.

The group was led through several courtyards and finally arrived at a huge, completely black hall.

The hall had no windows, only a tall and narrow entrance, giving it an overall oppressive feel.

Song You stared at the building's outline and clearly felt that it was different from other buildings. A strange sense of familiarity surfaced in his mind. He pondered for a moment, and his heart sank.

"This is clearly a coffin."

The hall was dimly lit, and hundreds of young men and women were ordered to sit cross-legged in complete silence.

Song You sat down next to Jiang Yangjiao. They were both a little out of breath from walking for so long.

Suddenly, Song You heard someone calling his name from behind.

"Song You, I'm so scared."

Looking back, he saw two other villagers standing behind him, their faces filled with terror.

"quiet."

Song You had no way to comfort them, so he nodded and began to observe the high platform in front of him.

The elder from the outer chamber who had led the way was now standing respectfully to one side of the high platform.

Before long, several short, strangely shaped Taoist boys carried a huge sedan chair and slowly walked out from the depths of the hall.

As the sedan chair landed, a huge ball of flesh rolled down from it, its bloated human shape barely discernible.

He was wearing a large Taoist robe, but it couldn't hide his fat.

The outer elder's emaciated figure formed a bizarre contrast with this ball of flesh.

He bowed deeply, his voice hoarse: "Welcome Elder Zhongzao."

He then turned to the hundreds of promising young cultivators below the stage and announced, "The transmission of skills begins."

The fleshy mass known as the Elder of the Seed Stove wriggled its thick lips, trying to speak.

Song You watched from afar, and all that could be heard coming from his throat was a rotten, indistinct sound.

His mouth sounded so ulcerated that he couldn't produce clear syllables.

Upon seeing this, the outer elder relayed the message: "Elder Zhongzao said that the cultivators of our Pozang Temple only seek to remedy their own ailments."

"Illness is a great human desire, a sedimentation of the seven emotions and six exhaustions. Ordinary people fear it like a tiger, but we cultivators regard it as the foundation of the Dao."

"Next, the Elder of the Planting Stove will plant the root of the disease for you and ignite the lesion. This is the planting of the lesion. Only those who can endure the burning pain of the lesion and leave the root of the disease can be the true immortal seedlings of my Soul Hidden Temple."

These words immediately caused an uproar in the hall.

Fear spread rapidly among the boys and girls: Could they survive having contracted the immortal's disease?

"Therefore, to become an immortal, one must first suffer a serious illness; only those who survive can cultivate."

Song You's heart sank to the bottom. He now roughly understood what the immortals in this world really were. No wonder these immortal masters were all emaciated, half-human and half-ghost.

They've all turned themselves into sickly monsters, and Song You doesn't want to become like that.

Song You lowered his head and carefully looked around for a way out. He noticed that Jiang Yangjiao was also trembling, her face drained of color, but there was still an expectation of becoming an immortal in her eyes, and he could faintly hear her words.

"If I can become an immortal, I can avenge my father."

Song You had no intention of interfering in other people's fates. He scanned the dense crowd around him and realized that few of them wanted to stay there.

Just then, before anyone could react, the elder on the high platform suddenly opened his rotten mouth.

He looked down at all the promising young talents below the stage, took a deep breath, his chest and abdomen bulged out in an exaggerated manner, and then he blew it out forcefully.

A grayish-white current swept in like a tidal wave.

Song You felt a rotten smell enter his nostrils, and the next moment, his lungs felt as if they were filled with molten iron, and a burning pain erupted instantly.

He opened his mouth wide but couldn't make a sound. A sharp pain struck, and everything before his eyes began to distort and blur.

This feels like acute pneumonia!

Using his medical knowledge from his previous life, Song You made a diagnosis for himself in the last moment before his consciousness faded.

"Just reborn and died again, damn it."

Lung function is rapidly deteriorating, and the brain is stagnating due to lack of oxygen.

His vision was completely swallowed by darkness, and his body fell backward.

......

"Song You! What are you standing there for! The patient's blood oxygen level has dropped. Have you finished writing the residency training report that Director Wan asked you to write? Look at you, dawdling like that, you have no sense at all!"

The harsh reprimands exploded in my ears.

Song You suddenly opened his eyes, and what came into view was the familiar white ceiling, and his nostrils were filled with the smell of disinfectant.

He was standing in the hospital corridor, and Zhang Lihong, the attending physician in his department, was pointing his finger at him from across the room.

Did I fall asleep at work?

Song You was about to apologize in his usual way when a familiar dull pain shot through his lungs, reminding him of the pain he had just experienced.

He remembered that people say that before they die, their eyes will reflect their entire life, so this is not reality.

This was a final burst of energy in his dying moments.

He was currently at the Soul Treasury Temple, participating in the perilous Immortal Seed Trial, a trial with a slim chance of survival.

I'm dying and I still have to come back here to work overtime, and I still get yelled at by this idiot boss.

An unnamed rage surged from the depths of Song You's heart to the top of his head. Since he was going to die anyway, what was there to worry about? Did he have to act like a grandson in his hallucination?

He looked at his boss, who was still rambling on and on, and suddenly spoke up: "Enough, Baldy Zhang. Didn't you say last Wednesday night that you were going to help the director work overtime on a research project?"

The leader paused, not following his train of thought: "Yes, what's wrong?"

Song You's voice carried clearly throughout the corridor, attracting the attention of the nurses and patients' families around him.

"Then why did you end up downstairs at the director's house? And you even knocked on the director's wife's door. Oh, I forgot, the director was at the hospital that day and had an all-night surgery scheduled by you, so he didn't go home at all."

The leader's face instantly turned a deep liver color.

"What nonsense are you spouting!"

"I'm lying?" Song You stepped forward, staring intently at him. "Last year during the performance evaluation, you changed my paper to your name and published it; last month, someone died because you missed work. And don't think I don't know, that bag you bought for the head nurse, you used a kickback from a pharmaceutical representative, didn't you?"

He poured out all his pent-up resentment and grievances, along with all the messes and troubles this leader had caused.

The surrounding colleagues all looked astonished, and the way they looked at their leader changed.

The leader himself was trembling with rage, his finger shaking as he pointed at Song You: "Are you crazy! Security! Where's security! Throw this lunatic out of here!"

Seeing his furious outburst, Song You felt refreshed and invigorated.

However, at that moment, the tearing pain in my lungs struck again, more intense than ever before.

"No, I can't just die like this."

He began to think of a solution. Since this sudden resurgence was so real, the hospital should also have medication to treat acute pneumonia!

Whether it's useful or not, it's my only hope for survival.

Ignoring the enraged Baldy Zhang and the crowd of onlookers, he turned and ran wildly toward the pharmacy he remembered.

"Stop him! Stop him now!" came the leader's furious roar and the sound of security guards chasing after him from behind.

Song You sprinted down the hospital corridor, shoving aside doctors and patients who were blocking his way; all he wanted to do now was get to the pharmacy.

The hallucination was so realistic that he could even feel the wind as the security guard's stun baton brushed against his back.

He used all his strength to turn a corner, shake off the pursuing security guards, and rushed into the pharmacy, then locked the door behind him.

The intense pain and shortness of breath made Song You feel dizzy and disoriented.

The pharmacist on duty in the pharmacy was so frightened by him that he turned pale and huddled in a corner, trembling.

Song You ignored her and rushed to the medicine cabinet, frantically searching for the medicine using his memories from his past life.

Glucocorticoids! Antibiotics!

He found it, grabbed several boxes of medicine, tore open the packaging, and stuffed them all into his mouth without caring whether they were injections or pills, swallowing them down in one gulp.