Fang Zheng shook his head.
"Daoist." Mrs. Zheng said:
"Are you perhaps doubting the Zheng family's financial capability?"
"This poor Daoist is not lacking in wealth." Fang Zheng shook his head:
"Madam, you are overthinking."
"Then what do you want?" Mrs. Zheng asked anxiously:
"Just say it, as long as you can cure Xiao Lu, whatever you want, the Zheng family will give, we will not go back on our word."
Fang Zheng was speechless.
He was just expressing his troubles, not expecting a solution from them, yet Mrs. Zheng's reaction made it seem like he was extorting them.
"Daoist."
Zheng Yi's eyes turned, and she suddenly struggled to get off the bed, her knees softened, and she knelt directly on the ground:
"Could I take you as my master?"
"Haha..." Fang Zheng laughed and helped her up:
"You little girl truly have a profound spiritual root, but unfortunately... this poor Daoist does not intend to take disciples."
"Then..." Zheng Yi spoke again:
