The Ghost-Faced Doctor is eccentric and saves people entirely based on his mood.

If he's in a good mood, he'll be willing to save people without asking for a penny; if he's in a bad mood, he won't budge even if you shower him with gold and silver.

"Yesterday, some villagers went up the mountain seeking medicine, and when they came down, they said that the masked doctor had something to convey to you, sir..."

It had rained during the night, and the mountain path was a bit slippery. Song Ting walked in front, with Shiyi and the others following behind.

Song Ting waited for what was to come, but nothing came, so she turned her head and asked, "What is it?"

"This..." Eleven hesitated, wanting to say something but stopping herself.

Song Ting's gaze was dark and unfathomable: "Speak."

Eleven then stammered, "That masked doctor is incredibly wicked. He actually sent a message through the common people, saying that the lord... he wants the lord to come and perform the three kneelings and nine kowtows ceremony for him, and to travel all the way from the foot of the mountain to the top before he will see the lord."

Song Ting stopped in her tracks.

Eleven swallowed hard, secretly glancing at the man's face, afraid that the latter might accidentally chop off his head.

But in the end, Song didn't say anything and just silently continued on his way.

Laojun Mountain is very high and steep. By the time the group reached the top, it was almost noon.

Just as Qi Zhou said, there was only a small thatched hut on the mountaintop, surrounded by wooden stakes of varying heights.

A plot of land in front of the house was planted with unknown herbs, and there was also a large, cracked vat containing dozens of centipedes.

At this moment, the centipedes are tearing each other apart and killing one another.

As soon as they stood still, someone was thrown out of the thatched hut, landing right at Song Ting's feet, spitting out a mouthful of bloody saliva.

He was a middle-aged man with a large belly, his forehead was dark and his lips were purple; it was obvious at a glance that he had been poisoned.

But this man was dressed in gold and silver, and the jade thumb ring on his hand was almost as good as the one Song Ting gave to Huai Xu, so he looked like a rich man.

"I don't care about your filthy money. If I'm not going to help, I'm not going to help. The person I hate most in my life is the Song family. Get out of here!" someone cursed from inside the thatched hut.

Song Ting's expression changed slightly.

The middle-aged man struggled to turn over and crawled back, supporting himself on his elbows.

"Miracle doctor! Please, miracle doctor, save me! If you save me, you will be my second parents!"

"From now on, I'll take your surname, not Song! Please, please save me! Please, miracle doctor, save me!"

The people inside became even angrier: "I already said—get out—"

As the last note faded, a rustling sound came from the thatched hut.

A moment later, hundreds of centipedes crawled out of the house and scrambled to climb onto the middle-aged man.

"Ahhhhhh—ah—" The man was in so much pain that he screamed and stumbled down the mountain.

"Who goes outside? I'm in a bad mood today. If you don't want to deal with my precious things, you'd better get lost!"

Song Ting seemed not to have heard the warning and bowed towards the room: "Sir, I have something to ask of you, and I humbly request that you grant me an audience."

"..." The room fell silent for a moment, then the masked doctor's voice came through, "Is your surname Song?"

His tone had changed significantly compared to before, now calm but tinged with barely concealed hatred.

Song Ting's brow twitched, and he admitted, "Yes, my name is Song Ting. I humbly request an audience with you, sir."

“Song Ting…hahahahaha…Song Ting…” The person inside the room immediately burst into laughter, a strange and terrifying laugh that sent chills down one’s spine.

The next instant, a dark figure flashed out at an extremely fast speed, and with a wave of his hand, scattered a handful of white powder outwards.

Having learned his lesson from the masked man, Qi Zhou covered his face and warned, "This is bad! Hold your breath!"

"Cough cough cough... cough cough..." The powder was colorless and odorless, yet it fell directly into people's noses and eyes. Song Ting barely dodged it, but the Ghost-Faced Doctor had already gotten close and slapped him hard on the chest.

Song Ting could have dodged it, but she took the blow head-on.

"grown ups!"

"grown ups--"

The masked man used at least 80% of his strength in that palm strike. Song Ting's blood surged and he almost lost his footing. After regaining his balance, he shouted sternly, "All of you, step back!"

The masked doctor stood very close to him, the half of his face visible beneath the mask displaying a half-smile.

Song Ting wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth and bowed again:

"It is our presumption to disturb your meditation, sir. Please do not take offense. We have come here to ask you to come down the mountain and heal a friend."

The masked man was dressed in black, with half of his face covered by a fierce-looking bronze mask, which was truly frightening at first glance.

His eyes, however, were sharp like a hawk's, fixed on Song Ting.

"Song Ting, the commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, who is second only to the emperor, actually has to ask for favors?"

Song Ting bowed even lower: "As long as you are willing to help me, I will agree to any request you make, even at the cost of my life."

"What a fine 'willing to die ten thousand times' statement." The masked man said coldly, "It's a pity that Lord Song didn't hear me just now. I hate people with the surname Song more than anything in my life."

His throat was hoarse and unpleasant, as if it had been injured somewhere. "Don't even mention a mere commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard. Even if the Heavenly King himself came, I'd still tell him to get lost!"

Song Ting seemed not to hear him: "I beg you, sir, to lend a helping hand."

The masked man narrowed his eyes, his expression strange: "I'm quite curious, what kind of person is worthy of your groveling?"

"He is a close friend of Song."

"A close friend?" The masked man laughed maniacally. "I think he's more like a lover..."

He scrutinized Song Ting, his expression growing increasingly strange: "Isn't your close friend a remnant of the Prince Duan's mansion who should have died five years ago?"

As soon as he finished speaking, a cold light flashed before his eyes. Before the masked man could react, he felt a chill on his neck and a slight stinging sensation.

Looking down, he saw a long sword pressed against his throat. There were already faint traces of blood on the blade.

That was his blood.

If he struggled even slightly, the sword could slit his throat at any moment.

The masked man, however, was not afraid at all; on the contrary, he laughed loudly again.

"Hahahaha... It's been many years since we last met. I never expected that Lord Song's skills have improved so much. I am truly impressed."

“I, Song, have no intention of offending you, sir, but I ask that you do not cross my bottom line.” Song Ting’s voice was extremely cold.

His martial arts skills had reached a state of perfection, and he was virtually unmatched in the world. Even though the masked man was skilled in using poison, he was not afraid.

But he didn't want to use force against the masked man unless absolutely necessary.

The latter's temperament was unpredictable, and he dared not gamble with Chu Huaixu's safety.

Unexpectedly, the masked man seemed to know Chu Huaixu's identity perfectly well.

This was completely beyond Song Ting's expectations and made him wary.

Moreover, the masked man said "it's been many years since we last met," which suggests that they had dealings before.

Song Ting frowned, then thought of the message the masked man had asked Eleven and the people he had treated to convey to him, which clearly indicated that they had some kind of grudge against him.