As the heirs of the Daoist medical families all departed, the waterside pavilion regained its quiet tranquility.
Inside the elegant attic on the second floor, Ling Feng didn't immediately perform acupuncture on Yue Zhonglian. Before starting the treatment, he had some questions that needed clarification.
Yue Zhonglian lay flat on the bed, his face as gaunt as his body, carrying a very unhealthy pallor.
Despite being just a middle-aged man in his forties or fifties, he already resembled a withered old man of advanced years.
"Sect Master, may I presume to ask a few questions?"
"Speak freely."
Yue Zhonglian turned his head towards Ling Feng. Although he was extremely weak, each word he uttered carried an imposing aura that did not need anger to be awe-inspiring.
Perhaps this was the supreme confidence cultivated only by those who had long held positions of power.
"Sect Master, when did you begin to age rapidly?"
"It's been three years."
