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

The sedan chair disappeared into the darkness, leaving only Song You, the dying girl, and the outer elder who had been standing by the high platform in the main hall.

The elder from the outer chamber, his body hunched over, slowly descended the high platform. He came before the two men, his cloudy eyes sweeping over them before finally settling on Song You's face.

"Cough cough cough!"

He coughed violently, his voice still hoarse and grating.

After he finished coughing, an ugly smile actually appeared on his ashen face.

"Congratulations on embarking on the path to immortality."

As he spoke, he took out two thread-bound booklets from his wide sleeves. The booklets had dark red covers with three words written on them: "Lung Fire Technique".

He tossed the booklets in front of Song You and the girl respectively.

"You have just planted the roots of the Dao, and your foundation is not yet stable. The lesions in your body are like fire without roots, which may turn back on you at any time."

The outer elder spoke slowly, and every word was clearly heard by Song You.

"You can all read, right?"

Both nodded. The schools in the surrounding villages would teach all the children some basic characters to facilitate the selection of future immortals.

"This book, 'Lung Fire Cultivation,' is the introductory cultivation method for disciples in the outer chambers of the temple. You must begin practicing it immediately, drawing upon the fire from the ailments to temper your bodies and thoroughly transform your Dao roots into your own."

He paused, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

"You have three days. If you cannot ignite the Dao within three days, the root of the Dao will completely penetrate your bones, and then even immortals will be unable to save you."

His gaze swept over the girl on the ground and then turned to Song You.

"Your accommodations have been arranged in the outer courtyard. I will come to check in three days. Those who succeed will become outer disciples of the Po Cang Temple, and those who fail need no further explanation."

He didn't continue speaking, but simply stretched out his withered finger and pointed to the darkness deep within the hall that had swallowed hundreds of corpses.

Having finished giving his instructions, he ignored the two men and turned to walk out of the hall, coughing as he went: "Follow me."

Song You picked up the "Lung Fire Technique" from the ground, and without even looking at it, stuffed it into his pocket. He glanced at the girl next to him who was still trembling; her eyes were filled with only confusion and despair.

It will either be completed in three days, or you will die.

The flame in his lungs, named Dawgen, felt the pressure and burned even more fiercely.

The elder from the outer chamber walked ahead, his cloth shoes making a soft, rustling sound as they trod on the bluestone slabs.

Song You followed, the warmth in his lungs expanding and contracting with each breath, sending out streams of energy that kept him from collapsing. This warmth traveled through his blood vessels, easing the muscle soreness wherever it passed.

The girl heard the sound of clothes scraping against the ground behind her. She scrambled to her feet and stumbled after them.

After passing through two archways, the girl's breathing gradually calmed down, and she quickly took two steps to get closer to Song You's side.

"My name is Shen Lu," the girl said in a low voice. "I'm from Dongyuan Village."

Song You turned to look at her. Shen Lu was not tall, her hair was disheveled, and the ashen look on her face had faded, revealing the color of a living person.

"Song You," he said, only giving his name.

Shen Lu reached out and covered her chest, pressing it hard.

"Did you just throw up? I almost couldn't hold it in, and now I feel like there's a fire burning in my lungs."

"I didn't vomit, but I also felt hot," Song You replied.

"How big?" Shen Lu pressed, holding up her right little finger to indicate, "I feel like it's about the size of a fingernail, and it's very hot."

The size of a fingernail?

Looking inward, Song You saw a ball of heat in his lungs, the size of a baby's fist. It radiated heat steadily with each rhythmic heartbeat.

"A little bigger than you," Song You said calmly, "about the size of a copper coin."

The tallest tree in the forest is bound to be felled by the wind. In this eerie place, the more trump cards you have, the better. The boy who was taken away alone is probably the biggest fireball.

Shen Lu sighed and lowered her head, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes.

"My parents sold me to the village chief." She suddenly changed the subject, speaking faster, "In exchange for half a bag of brown rice. They said I was a money-losing commodity, and it would be better to exchange me for some grain to make porridge for my younger brother."

She looked up, staring wide-eyed into the darkness ahead.

"Once I become an immortal, I must go back and ask them if half a bag of brown rice is delicious."

Song You didn't respond; such things were all too common in remote, impoverished areas.

The elder from the outer chamber who was walking ahead suddenly stopped.

"Hehehe."

He forced a laugh and turned around, his eyes sweeping over Shen Lu's face.

"To become an immortal, with your meager lung fire?"

Shen Lu was so frightened that she took a step back and tightly shut her mouth.

The elder coughed violently a few times, then sighed.

"You think that surviving the cultivation process will make you an immortal?" The elder stretched out his withered finger and pointed at the air. "There are countless Daoist lineages in the world, divided into different grades: immortal, superior, middle, and inferior."

"What level is the Lung Fire Dao Root of our Soul Treasury Temple?" Shen Lu asked boldly.

"Lung fire indicates a medium-level Dao root," the elder replied slowly and deliberately, "which gives you a chance to ascend to the path of immortality."

He craned his neck and leaned closer to Song You.

"Your Dao root is only the size of a copper coin, barely qualifying you as below average. You'll need an extraordinary stroke of luck to become an immortal."

He then turned to look at Shen Lu, grinning withered lips to reveal yellowish-black teeth.

"As for you, there is absolutely no chance. At most, you will be a disciple of a concubine in this lifetime."

Shen Lu's face turned deathly pale instantly, her body swayed, and she fell silent.

Neither of them spoke.

Song You remained expressionless, but his mind was racing.

The elder's words revealed a lot: a Dao root the size of a fist probably wouldn't even reach the top level. The boy who was taken away alone might be the true genius.

If you don't have the qualifications, you have to find another way.

The modern hospital he returned to when he was near death had antibiotics and hormones in its pharmacy that could suppress the backlash from his Dao root. If he could actively trigger that state, using modern drugs or leveraging medical knowledge to aid his cultivation, that would be his greatest reliance.

Near-death is the trigger condition, but how to control the degree of near-death, and what to do if one actually dies, requires experimentation.

After passing a dead bamboo grove, a row of low bungalows came into view.

There were about a dozen bungalows, and dim light shone through the paper windows of three or four of them. Suppressed coughs and painful groans could be faintly heard, indicating that the earlier batches of fairy seedlings were not having an easy time either.

"We've arrived." The elder in the outer room pointed to two adjacent empty rooms. "One room for each person, with water and food inside."

He turned around to leave, then paused for a moment.

"Don't think that just because the Dao roots in a temple are poor, it's bad." The elder's voice drifted in the night wind. "The better the type of Dao root, the stronger the Qi, the faster it dies when it's planted. It's questionable whether the immortal seedlings in those celestial-grade Daoist temples can even survive the first night."

"Go inside. I'll come back in three days to collect the body, or perhaps to take you as an apprentice."

The elder, his back hunched, disappeared into the darkness.

Shen Lu stood in front of the door and looked at Song You.

"Song You, I hope to see you again in three days." She pushed open the door and went inside.

Song You pushed open another door.

The room was small, with a wooden bed, a table, a pot of water, and two cold steamed buns on the table.

He went over and bolted the door shut.

He walked to the bedside and sat down. After a long while, and after confirming that no one was watching him, he took out the things he had found from his pocket and placed them on the rough bedding.