Chapter 253 - 252: Strange Illness

"You’re not streaming? Why didn’t you say so earlier? I told the girls you were going to be on tonight."

Xu Qian was very displeased.

Recalling the steamy scene from last night, she felt a fresh pang of jealousy.

She had thought Yang Xun was taking a break from streaming for something important, but it turned out he was just having fun with his wife and her best friend.

"Sorry, my mistake. I really do have something urgent to attend to. I’ll make it up to you when I get back, okay?"

He said helplessly, trying to placate her.

"You said it, not me. When you get back, I’m going to work you from morning till night!"

A glint flashed in Xu Qian’s eyes; she was determined to squeeze Yang Xun dry.

He shivered, quickly gathered his things, and walked out the villa’s front door.

Just as he reached the entrance, he saw a black van already parked and waiting for him.

The door slid open, and Zhou Yuan leaned out, smiling and waving. "Mr. Yang! Morning!"

"Morning."

Yang Xun walked over quickly and got in.

The van drove smoothly out of the city and onto the highway.

Zhou Yuan, sitting across from him, handed him a file. "Here’s the detailed file on Zhao Hongshan. Have a look."

Yang Xun took the file and opened it. It contained detailed information on Zhao Hongshan’s family background and business holdings, as well as his daughter Zhao Linglong’s medical file.

"We’re still not exactly sure what her illness is. We’ll have to wait until we get there."

Zhou Yuan had done his best to gather as much information as possible to help Yang Xun prepare for the diagnosis and treatment.

Yang Xun flipped through the medical file and lab reports page by page, his brow furrowing ever deeper.

The file chronicled nearly three years of medical history, from initial symptoms of mild dizziness and loss of appetite, to later developing a pale complexion and listlessness, and finally to frequent fainting spells in recent months.

But the results of all her tests showed the same thing—every indicator was within the normal range.

No tumors, no infections, no organic diseases.

And yet, she grew weaker day by day, and even her doctors couldn’t explain why.

Yang Xun closed the file, gazing thoughtfully out the window at the scenery whipping by.

’If modern medicine can’t find the problem, then it’s likely not a purely physiological illness.’

’Perhaps it’s something that instruments can’t detect.’

「Three hours later.」

The car pulled into an elegant estate.

After passing through an ornate iron gate, they drove for a few more minutes along a tree-lined avenue before finally stopping in front of a Chinese-style villa.

Zhou Yuan and Yang Xun got out of the car, where a middle-aged man dressed as a butler was already waiting by the entrance.

"Young Master Zhou, Mr. Yang, our master has been waiting for you in the living room. Please, follow me."

The two followed the butler through the foyer and into a spacious, well-lit living room.

A middle-aged man in a gray Mandarin-collar shirt rose from the sofa and strode forward to greet them.

Zhao Hongshan appeared to be in his early fifties. His posture was ramrod straight and his aura was composed, but while he wore a smile, his eyes held a deep, unconcealable exhaustion and worry.

"Young Master Zhou, this must be Divine Doctor Yang?"

Zhao Hongshan’s gaze fell on Yang Xun, sizing him up from head to toe.

He had heard that Yang Xun had cured Zhou Kunlun’s illness, but he hadn’t expected him to be so young. A seed of doubt was inevitably planted in his mind.

"Hello, Mr. Zhao."

Yang Xun said politely, extending his hand.

Zhao Hongshan shook it, then dispensed with the pleasantries and got straight to the point. "I assume you’ve read my daughter’s file. She’s upstairs. Let’s go see her now."

"Alright."

Yang Xun nodded.

Zhao Hongshan turned to lead the way. He took the two of them up to the second floor, down a hallway, and stopped in front of the door to the room at the very end.

He raised a hand and knocked gently on the door, his voice much softer than before. "Linglong, I’ve found another doctor to come help you."

’Hearing that word, "another," tells me something,’ Yang Xun thought. ’Zhao Hongshan has brought in plenty of doctors, but all of them have been powerless...’

After a moment, a faint, weak voice came from inside the room. "Come in."

Zhao Hongshan pushed the door open and stepped aside, letting Yang Xun enter.

The room was large and cozily furnished. The curtains were half-drawn, filling the space with soft light.

In the center of the room was a large bed where a young woman sat, hugging a pillow. She looked up slightly as they entered.

Yang Xun stopped short.

The woman was in her early twenties, her skin so fair it was almost translucent, glowing with a porcelain-like sheen in the soft light.

Her features were as exquisite as a finely carved work of art, with gracefully arched brows, a delicate, straight nose, and pale lips. She exuded a sickly yet fragile beauty.

But it was her eyes that truly captured Yang Xun’s attention.

Her amber pupils had a strange lucidity in the light, as if they could reflect everything around them, yet they held a serenity that belied her age.

"You’re the doctor who’s come to treat me?"

Zhao Linglong tilted her head, her gaze lingering on Yang Xun’s face for a moment. "You’re pretty young."

Yang Xun sat in the chair by her bed, his tone gentle. "Can you tell me how you’re feeling? What’s been bothering you?"

Zhao Linglong thought for a moment, her fingers gently tracing the edge of the pillow in her lap. She sighed. "I can’t really say what’s wrong, specifically. I just feel like my body is getting heavier and heavier, as if something is slowly sapping my strength."

"And I have nightmares every night. When I wake up, I’m freezing cold."

Her tone was calm, as if she were talking about someone else, but her amber eyes flickered. "I just feel... like something is clinging to me."

Yang Xun’s interest was piqued. "Clinging to you?"

"Yes."

Zhao Linglong lowered her head, her voice growing even quieter. "For the past few months, I’ve kept feeling like there’s a shadow standing outside my window. But every time I turn to look, there’s nothing there."

"And every night, that shadow moves a step closer."

The room fell silent for a moment.

Zhao Hongshan stood in the doorway, his expression grim.

’He knew his daughter had been saying these strange things, but every doctor he’d brought in before had dismissed it as a psychological issue or a hallucination.’

Yang Xun was silent for a few seconds. Then he stood, walked to the window, and carefully looked outside.

Everything looked normal.

But when he circulated the True Qi within his body and extended his senses outward, his brow furrowed slightly.

The air was permeated by an extremely subtle, cold, yin energy. It was barely perceptible, like a hidden thread in the darkness. The presence was so faint that one would never notice it without deliberately searching for it.

Yang Xun retracted his gaze and turned back to Zhao Linglong. "Have you been anywhere recently? Somewhere... particularly dark and damp?"

Zhao Linglong was taken aback for a moment, but then she nodded. "A few months ago, I visited an old town out in the countryside. There was an ancestral hall there that had been abandoned for a long time. I was curious, so I went inside to take a look."

"It wasn’t long after I got back that I started feeling sick."

Yang Xun narrowed his eyes. ’A theory was beginning to form in his mind.’