Zhang Yang could naturally tell that Uncle Long, that sly old fox, was deliberately hiding something.
Were it not for his curiosity about the changes in Uncle Long's body after consuming the Soul Resurrection Grass, Zhang Yang would have left long ago.
At this point, he couldn't be bothered to argue with that crafty old fox.
Uncle Long smiled weakly with a pale face and didn't offer any further explanation, but anxiously said, "Zhang Yang, I know your medical skills are exceptional."
"It's not an exaggeration to call you a National Medical Sage Hand. Ordinary doctors can't even diagnose my illness; now it's all up to you."
"As long as you can cure me, I will surely pay you a fee that satisfies you."
Upon hearing this, Zhang Yang replied noncommittally, "We'll discuss the fee later, but let's get one thing straight first. No one has ever treated your illness, myself included, so whether it can be treated or cured is uncertain. Don't blame me if I fail to cure it."
