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

It seems that in addition to the Daoist roots planted after birth, there are also differences in physical constitution among people. Observing himself and recalling his past experiences, he realized that he probably didn't have much of a constitution.

After a while, the wooden door opened a crack, and Shen Lu poked half her head out to see that it was Song You. She then opened the door completely.

She was wearing a loose, coarse cloth Taoist robe, and she was so thin that she looked unrecognizable, with sunken cheeks, but her eyes had a bit more of a living spirit.

"Senior brother." Shen Lu lowered her head, clutching the hem of her clothes with both hands.

Song You stepped across the threshold and into the room. Shen Lu's room was even more shabby than his. The table was broken, and an old quilt was placed on the wooden bed.

"How's your cultivation going?" Song You stopped by the bedside.

Shen Lu turned to face Song You, speaking somewhat quickly: "I followed the method my senior brother taught me, using my lung qi to wrap the inner flame and burn it. It was faster than before, and my chest didn't feel as stuffy or painful anymore."

Song You looked at her and said, "Words are no proof. Let me take a look for you."

Shen Lu looked up, her face full of confusion: "What do you mean?"

Song You pointed to the wooden bed: "Sit on it, take off your shirt, and turn your back to me."

Shen Lu's breathing became erratic. She gripped her clothes tightly with both hands, took a half step back, and pressed her back against the earthen wall. She had been sold into this cannibalistic Taoist temple by her parents, and in the past two days, she had become accustomed to life and death. She also knew that a woman's body was often used as a bargaining chip.

But Song You had rejected her before, and now he was coming to her in the middle of the night to ask her to take off her clothes, and she couldn't understand it.

Song You didn't urge her or say anything unnecessary; he just stood there watching her.

Shen Lu gritted her teeth, walked to the bedside, took off her shoes, and climbed onto the bed. She sat cross-legged with her back to Song You, and untied the sash of her Taoist robe. Her coarse cloth clothes and undergarments slipped down, piling up around her waist, exposing her entire back to the air.

Too thin. Song You looked at the back; the vertebrae protruded one by one, the shoulder blades stood out high, and the skin and flesh clung to the bones, with no excess fat. The skin had a pale color, as if it had never seen the sun for years, and there were a few light bruises on it.

Song You took a step forward and stopped a foot behind Shen Lu.

"Activate the Lung Fire Technique," Song You commanded.

Shen Lu closed her eyes, her chest heaving, her breathing becoming long and even. A faint gray-white flame lit up inside her body, traveling along her meridians.

Song You mobilized his lung energy, causing the outer flames within his chest cavity to churn. He opened his mouth, and a wisp of grayish-white flame shot out, hovering in mid-air. He controlled the heat, suppressing the temperature of the outer flames to a minimum, retaining only the most basic burning properties.

Song You brought his right index and middle fingers together, guiding the wisp of flame, and placed it on Shen Lu's right shoulder blade.

The outer flame comes into contact with the skin.

laugh.

A slight burning sound rang out. Shen Lu recoiled, gripping the dry grass beneath her tightly with both hands. She didn't flinch, only letting out a suppressed cry of pain.

"It hurts." Shen Lu's voice trembled with sobs, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably, her slender figure appearing extremely delicate in the dim light.

Song You did not stop. He stared at the point where the outer flames came into contact with Shen Lu's skin and flesh. The flames showed no signs of weakening and burned through the skin directly. Shen Lu's body did not show any resistance to the erosion of the outer flames.

Moreover, Shen Lu did not show any special talent in cultivation. Judging from Song You's current level, she was just an ordinary mortal, and even worse than others due to long-term malnutrition.

The test is over. I can only try again when my skill level has improved.

Song You withdrew his finger, and the wisp of outer flame dissipated in mid-air, leaving a charred mark the size of a fingertip on Shen Lu's shoulder blade: "Put on your clothes."

She heard the rustling sound of fabric rubbing against her. Shen Lu hurriedly pulled up her Taoist robe and retied the belt. She turned her head, her eyes slightly red, and looked at Song You expectantly.

Song You looked at Shen Lu and sighed.

The sigh reached Shen Lu's ears, making her heart leap into her throat.

"Senior brother, what's wrong with me?" Shen Lu asked softly.

Song You pulled over a worn-out wooden stool and sat down: "I recently heard about special physiques, so I'm trying to help you. Unfortunately, you don't have any special physiques. With the resources you have now, you probably won't even make it to the mid-stage of the Firewood Realm."

Shen Lu lowered her head, her face pale, tears welling in her eyes: "Senior brother, we've only been here for two days, but it feels like a year has passed?"

Seeing her reaction, Song You asked, "Do you remember how you got to this Po Cang Temple?"

Shen Lu stiffened and looked up. How could she forget? There wasn't enough food at home. Her parents had taken half a sack of coarse grain from the village chief, tied her up, and thrown her into the procession being sent to Po Cang Temple. When she left, her younger brother was in the yard eating a coarse grain pancake.

"Do you want to live, to get out of this mountain and go back to your village? Didn't you want to ask your parents if it's a good deal to trade half a bag of coarse grains for your life?" Song You spoke faster, each word stabbing at Shen Lu's sore spot.

Shen Lu gritted her teeth, clenched her fists, and held back her tears, which stubbornly crept onto her face.

"I want to live," Shen Lu said hoarsely, staring at Song You. "I want to go back and ask them."

"Since you want to live," Song You pulled out the "Compendium of Toxicology" from his pocket and threw it directly onto the bed in front of Shen Lu. "This book records basic toxicology. Memorize everything in this book within a month. If you can do that, you can help me, and I can get you into the inner courtyard of the pharmacy."

Song You stood up, ignoring Shen Lu's blank stare as she looked at the book, and walked straight out the door.

"If you can't memorize it, you're just waiting to die."

With those words, Song You stepped out the door and returned to his room. He was content as long as he could ignite the other party's fighting spirit. Time was of the essence, and he couldn't waste too much energy on Shen Lu; he still needed to cultivate himself.

Shen Lu picked up the book, her eyes filled with a goal. Looking at Song You's back and touching her prominent collarbone, she made up her mind.

For the next three days, Song You's life became extremely regular.

Every morning, he would go to the inner hall of Baicaotang to report for duty. Jia Chunfang seemed to be busy with her own things and was neither warm nor cold towards him. She would only occasionally ask him a few questions about pharmacology. Song You answered fluently, and Jia Chunfang would wave him away.

The rest of the time, Song You stayed in his room.

Taking advantage of the opportunity to draw qi into his body, he frequently traveled between the two worlds to learn knowledge. In the cold storage room of Bharat's warehouse, he consumed large amounts of high-calorie food.

After returning to the bungalow, he activated the Lung Fire Technique, transforming the food into abundant lung energy. His initial cultivation level steadily improved, and the gray-white flames within his chest cavity grew increasingly intense.

The fourth opening in the body was suppressed by his massive replenishment and never took shape.

It was the afternoon of the third day when Jiang Yangge arrived.

Song You sat at the table, turned to the last page of "Illustrated Catalogue of Herbs", glanced at the last line of text, and closed the book.

Thanks to his enhanced mental strength, the entire contents of the book are now etched into his mind, and he can recite them fluently.

Song You tucked the book into his pocket, stood up, and stretched his limbs. His bones cracked as he reached his peak physical condition, but he then suppressed his aura and appeared weak.

He made a plan in his mind: this afternoon he would attend the gathering of the outer disciples to exchange for some wild herbs. After the gathering, he would try to brew the medicine for the first time tomorrow. It was time to get started and put it into practice.

Footsteps crunching on withered bamboo leaves came from outside the door, and the footsteps stopped in front of the door.

Knock knock.

A knock came at the door.

"Junior Brother Song, it's me." Jiang Yangge's voice came from outside the door.