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

Song You sat on the wooden bed, his head throbbing and his temples throbbing from the constant switching between worlds and the intense memorization.

He raised his hand to rub his temples, pressing his fingers against his skin to relieve nerve fatigue.

In contrast to the fatigue in his head, his limbs and bones were full of energy and blood. The high-calorie meat he had eaten in the warehouse was being digested in his stomach, and the heat was spreading through his intestines, providing a continuous supply of nutrients.

It was pitch black outside the courtyard. There were still two hours before he had to go to the Hundred Herbs Hall for his shift. Lying down and sleeping to recover his energy would have been the simplest solution, but Song You didn't do that. The Lung Fire Technique primarily targets the affected areas; the burning of the outer flames nourishes the spirit. Since his body could withstand the strain, the benefits of practicing the technique would be even greater.

Sitting cross-legged, Song You closed his eyes.

Guided by his will, the grayish-white outer flames in his chest cavity grew stronger, and the nutrients in his body were forcibly extracted and transformed into new lung qi, which was added to the fire membrane inch by inch. The growth of the outer flames far exceeded that of the previous night.

After two major cycles of circulation were completed, Song You opened his eyes, his brows furrowing as he sensed something was wrong.

Logically, with so much energy consumed, the thickness of the outer flame should have increased by two points, but now it's only one and a half points, meaning the newly refined lung qi has been reduced by a significant amount.

Song You closed his eyes, slowed his breathing, and focused his senses into the most subtle meridians of his body.

With his cultivation reaching the early stage of the Firewood realm and his mental strength improving, his internal vision ability is much stronger than before.

I sensed that as the Qi and blood flowed throughout my body, there was stagnation in the flow of Qi and blood below my left ribs, in the gap between my right scapula and my lumbar spine.

Several tiny, hidden gaps appeared between the skin, flesh, and meridians in these three areas.

The newly generated lung fire flows through this place, then dissipates along the gap, disappearing deep into the flesh and blood, turning into useless things.

Is this a leak in the body?

Song You did not act rashly and maintained the operation of his cultivation technique.

He stared at the three gaps. As the outer flames burned and lung air rushed in, the edges of the gaps showed a tendency to widen. At his left knee, there were also faint signs of a fourth gap forming.

Stopping his cultivation technique, Song You dispersed the flames from the outer edge, and the expansion of the breach ceased.

What exactly is going on?

After thinking it over, he pulled out the "Lung Fire Technique" from under his pillow and began to read it. The pages turned and rustled.

"When the Qi circulates throughout the body, it burns the entire body like fire; prolonged exposure will cause damage."

This line is printed in the chapter about the mid-stage breakthrough of Chai Xin. The book does not directly mention the words "body leakage", but this sentence refers to the end of the body's decay.

He had previously thought it referred to physical weakness, but he never expected it to be like this.

Song You closed the book. The essence of the Po Cang Guan's practice was to heal the sick. The disease was treated as fuel, and the body was the furnace.

The stronger the fire, the faster the furnace cracks. Immortal seedlings with poor aptitude have smaller inner flames and need more time and more lung energy to fill them. The longer the fire burns, the more cracks will naturally appear on the furnace.

The more cracks there are, the faster the lung qi is lost, and the slower the cultivation speed becomes. For them, this is a dead end.

He turned to the second half of the book. Although there were no further cultivation methods, there was a simple record of the Furnace Realm.

"The lungs are like a furnace, forming their own stove, impervious to all harm."

This means that once you reach the Furnace Realm, the effects of these physical leaks are essentially negligible.

Song You tapped his fingers on the bed board. The person who created the technique hid its flaws between the lines, leaving behind only the promise of the Furnace Realm. If someone with poor aptitude actually believed this, they would be reduced to a dried-up corpse before even reaching the Furnace Realm.

However, the book mentioned a powerful medicine. Song You looked down at his abdomen. The food he had eaten earlier had supported his intense cultivation and even delayed the formation of the fourth gap to some extent.

With a continuous and efficient supply, the impact of leakage can be minimized.

This is a luxury at Po Cang Temple. The outer disciples can only get enough to barely sustain their lives and basic cultivation each day, let alone repair their bodies.

But he was different; Song You stuffed the "Lung Fire Exercise" back under his pillow.

He cleared his mind, trying to capture the sparse spiritual energy around him. As the spiritual energy entered his body, a great terror struck.

When their gazes refocused, Song You was sitting in the cargo hold of the Gulfstream business jet. He rolled over and crawled toward the insulated box with the Sanskrit label, reached into the hole, and pulled out two more vacuum-packed bags of smoked meat. He tore open the film and swallowed them in large gulps. The meat was rather tough, and he chewed and swallowed the whole two pounds of meat into his stomach.

Then he opened a bottle of pale yellow liquor and tilted his head back to gulp down half of it.

His abdomen was bloated, but Song You didn't linger. He closed his eyes and waited for it to end.

After the feeling of falling subsided, he returned to the bungalow.

As the food in his stomach began to digest, heat was released to his limbs. Song You immediately sat cross-legged and began to circulate his lung fire energy.

The grayish-white outer flames reignited. This time, with a large amount of food as a base, lung qi was generated extremely quickly. Song You stared at the three gaps.

With ample nutrients replenishing the area, the growth of the fourth puncture wound that was about to form at the left knee was forcibly halted.

The other three old gaps have not disappeared and are still consuming some of the lung qi.

It seems that as long as one cultivates, the formation of these bodily leaks can only be slowed down, not eradicated.

The elders and disciples in the Po Cang Temple may have other ways to resolve the leakage of bodily fluids.

But Song You has no better option at the moment and can only rely on sheer numbers.

For the next hour, Song You repeatedly channeled his Qi, shuttling back and forth between the two realms.

The food in the warehouse became his reserves; he ate about a tenth of the meat in the insulated box to ensure the weight didn't change too much. He then opened two unsealed wooden crates next to it, which contained Indian nuts and high-sugar pastries.

Each time he went there, Song You would stuff his stomach with high-calorie food, and then return to the Po Cang Temple to refine it.

The outer flame gradually increased in thickness, while the body was completely suppressed by sufficient nutrients.

On his last trip back to the cargo hold, Song You leaned against the bulkhead and ate about a tenth of the contents of the several boxes.

The fuselage tilted, the engine roar changed frequency, a feeling of weightlessness came over me, the plane was descending, it was about to land.

Song You steadied himself, grabbed the securing straps beside him, and hid behind a box. The mechanical screeching of the landing gear as it lowered echoed beneath his feet. A few minutes later, the wheels touched down, the fuselage shook violently, and then it slid down the runway to slow down.

The plane came to a stop, the engine noise subsided, and the sounds of approaching vehicles and footsteps could be heard outside the cargo hold.

"Let's go," Bharat's voice came from the cabin above.

The metal doors of the warehouse hissed as air pressure was released, and light from the outside shone through the cracks.

Song You's gaze pierced through the gaps in the wooden crates. Several Indians in ground crew uniforms stood outside, preparing to move the goods.

Barat descended the gangway, followed by several entourage members.

"This shipment doesn't need to go through airport security," Bharat ordered the lead ground crew member in English. "Load it directly onto the truck and take it to my private warehouse."