Zheng Fan had forgotten how he managed to get out of the hot soup pool. He felt as if his entire being was floating in the sky. Even lying on the bed now, he still had a dizzy sensation of drifting with the waves. His soul and body felt as if they had been severed; everything seemed so unreal.
"My lord, My lord, are you okay?" Xue Three stood by the bed, his face close to Zheng Fan's.
He didn't dare tell Blind Man and the others that their lord had genuinely developed a problem from soaking in the bath; he was afraid they would beat him to death.
Zheng Fan's thoughts finally began to return. He turned his head, looked at Xue Three standing beside him, shook his head, and said, "I'm fine now."
The sensation was like having just undergone ten rounds of acupuncture. His muscles twitched, and his body felt not just empty, but as if its very foundations had been knocked out.
"My lord," Xue Three ventured, "I suspect that my body and yours might differ in some aspects."
