Yue Mingxuan shook his head.
In these past few days, besides adjusting the prescriptions for Shang Qinghua and Rong Qinglei, all of his thoughts had been consumed by this issue.
Even after racking his brain, he had yet to come up with a good plan.
Shang Qinghua pondered for a moment. "If I still had my martial strength, I could take you and break in myself."
Yue Mingxuan rolled his eyes internally. That statement was meaningless; he was bedridden now, struggling even to stand or walk.
Seeing Yue Mingxuan's indifferent expression, Shang Qinghua continued, "Then perhaps we should leave it for now. Once I recover, I'll personally take you to confront them."
Yue Mingxuan spoke with resignation, "The medicine only delays the problem. By the time you're well enough, grass will be growing over your grave."
Shang Qinghua raised an eyebrow. "Are you cursing me?"
Yue Mingxuan fastened his cloak. "Not a curse. It's a fact."
