Mo Ting frowned and was about to say something when the person behind him whispered something into his ear. His expression immediately changed and he smiled faintly. "So you're Marshal Xiao's grandson. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Young Master Xiao, don't worry. I'll definitely investigate as soon as possible."
Xiao Han snorted coldly and did not say anything else.
Mo Ting hurriedly asked the Daoist priest to serve tea to Xiao Han. "Young Master Xiao, please sit."
Xiao Han sat on the stool and asked with his legs crossed, "What's the problem with the strange illness spreading here? My Xiao family has top-notch herbs."
Mo Ting's eyes darted around, and he said slowly, "Starting from noon today, many people on the mountain have developed red tumors. They're densely packed and extremely painful to the touch."
