Zhao Dong didn't reply, muttering to himself instead, "Your aura seems off. You must have an internal injury that hasn't healed for a long time. This recent pain… it wasn't the first time, was it?"
A look of shock flashed in the young man's eyes, soon turning into admiration.
He smiled faintly. "I'm surprised. For someone so young, your medical skills are truly remarkable."
Zhao Dong shrugged. "It's nothing. I know much more. Even healing that internal injury of yours wouldn't be a problem."
"Impossible!" The young man shook his head. "I've sought out countless famous doctors for this injury, but they all said it was incurable. How could you possibly succeed where they failed?"
Hearing this, Zhao Dong didn't argue. Death is imminent, so why bother with such trivialities? He sighed, lay back down, and quietly waited for his end to come. His face was a mask of humiliation and resentment, but he was utterly helpless.
