In a secluded courtyard somewhere on Hundred Refinement Mountain, a heavy medicinal aroma filled the air. An old man with white hair, wearing a green robe with a pill furnace embroidered on the chest, stepped out of the main room.
Zheng Yunshu followed anxiously. Behind the screen, Zheng Bingzhong lay with a weak breath.
Closing the door, before Zheng Yunshu could speak, the old man sighed, "Ah, Xiao Shu, Bingzhong's condition, I am afraid this old man is powerless."
"Master Liu, is there really no way?"
Zheng Yunshu's expression was anxious.
"Alas, a skillful woman cannot cook without rice, and even a famous doctor is troubled with no medicine."
