Another female voice sounded: “Thanks to that idiot Henry Cooper, eighty percent of our southern foundation has been destroyed. Now, let alone any grand plans—if we don’t come up with a solution, the entire sect will soon be left with nothing to eat. Your martial uncle is still trapped in the Six Gates, waiting to be rescued, which will also require a huge amount of silver. How could Master possibly be at ease?”

　　This voice was nice too, carrying an indescribable charm, making one feel tingles all over just listening to it...

　　John Smith finally managed to open his eyes with difficulty. He turned his head slightly and saw a young married woman sitting cross-legged to the side, gently arranging her cloud-like hair, her eyes as clear as autumn water, holding a book in her hands. Even just a fleeting glance at her veiled profile was enough to make John Smith secretly gasp.

　　This woman is really beautiful... Before falling into the water, I saw someone bathing—was it these two? Damn, what a pity. Back then, it seemed like neither of them was wearing clothes, but I didn’t see anything clearly at all!

　　A young girl in white was angrily waving her little fists: “Next time I see Henry Cooper, I’ll cut off his thing with my own hands and send it off to be a catamite!”

　　“This isn’t the time to assign blame... If you have that much energy, you might as well help your master with the accounts.”

　　The girl’s fist froze in midair: “Uh, uh, what accounts?”

　　“Last month, the Hundred Flowers Courtyard in the capital lost 1,320 taels, the Rouge Workshop in Lingzhou lost 415 taels, and the Xunfang Parlor in Wuzhou made a profit of 74 taels... So, what was our total loss last month?”

　　“...” The girl quietly took a few steps back, her eyes darting around. Her awkward look made John Smith want to laugh.

　　“You really think just practicing martial arts is enough to support a sect? Sooner or later, you’ll have to handle these things. What’s the point of running away?”

　　“Well... haha... Oh right, Master, I just remembered I haven’t done my morning practice yet. I’ll go train first...”

　　“Stop! Go fetch the counting rods for me first!”

　　John Smith finally spoke: “No need to get the counting rods. The total loss is 1,661 taels.”

　　The girl looked at John Smith curiously, blinking her big eyes a few times, and said with a smile, “Bragging as soon as you wake up, that’s not good. Just you wait!” She clearly hadn’t wanted to fetch the counting rods, but now that John Smith had given an answer, her curiosity was piqued, and she really did run out.

　　John Smith still felt pain all over his body. He struggled to sit up and gave a slight bow to the young woman: “Thank you, madam, for sav—”

　　He hadn’t even finished expressing his thanks when the young woman suddenly turned her head. The gentle, slightly sorrowful look in her autumn-water eyes vanished in an instant, replaced by a sharp, icy glare, her gaze radiating with power.

　　John Smith felt as if her eyes contained some immense force. His blood and energy surged chaotically, and he couldn’t help but cough up another mouthful of blood, shocked to his core.

　　Damn, killing with just a look? Isn’t this a bit much?

　　The light in the young woman’s eyes faded. She frowned and muttered to herself, “Truly not a trace of cultivation? How is that possible?”

　　Seeing John Smith’s blood surging and his inability to speak, she pondered for a moment and then said coolly, “Who are you? How did you suddenly appear in midair? What’s with the strange poison in your body?”

　　John Smith was baffled by the questions: “What strange poison?”

　　“You have over a thousand types of toxins in your body, and you’re carrying a contagious plague source. You’re basically a plague man. Speak—who are you, and what is your purpose?”

　　John Smith was stunned for a long time, muttering to himself, “A walking periodic table of elements?”

　　Carrying all sorts of infectious viruses, many of them even mutated—none of which existed in ancient times. Plus, a body raised on gutter oil, toxic milk powder, and all kinds of additives... Someone once said that if you flattened a modern person, you’d get a complete periodic table of chemical elements. Now, having traveled to ancient times, he himself had become a mobile source of plague. Was it really true?

　　He had no idea how to explain this. He scratched his head for a long while, speechless, and finally asked in return, “Madam, do you have a way to solve my problem?”

　　The young woman almost laughed in exasperation: “You really are something.”

　　John Smith said, “Could it be that madam wants to learn how to make a plague man like me?”

　　The young woman’s smile faded, and a cold light flashed in her eyes again. “You’re very clever.”

　　John Smith thought to himself, as expected, these two master and disciple are not good people. He shook his head and said, “I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed, madam. My situation is one of a kind. You absolutely can’t replicate a second one.”

　　The young woman said lazily, “Since you won’t talk, then you can go die.”

　　As she spoke, she raised her hand, about to strike. John Smith hurriedly shouted, “Just one of me is enough to help madam create a plague!”

　　The young woman’s beautiful eyes flickered. She pondered for a moment, slowly lowering her hand, as if considering how best to use this plague man.

　　At that moment, the girl Lily came running in, all excited: “Master, I’ve brought the counting rods.”

　　John Smith broke out in a cold sweat—truly a brush with death. This woman was definitely a ruthless demon who wouldn’t bat an eye at killing. She was seriously considering using a biochemical plague for her own ends. Saving him was clearly just because she was curious about his poisonous body and thought he might be useful, not out of any kindness. The moment she found him useless, he wouldn’t even know how he died.