"Hiss." Ying Ji sucked in a sharp breath and exclaimed, "Three Tokens? With the power to command my Ying Family to do anything? This... Ancestor, isn't this reward a bit too generous?"
The Ying Family Ancestor replied, "Generous? I don't think it's generous at all. You should know the immense price our Ying Family has paid over the centuries because of this Curse... no, because of this strange illness! And what has it gotten us? Nothing! This strange illness continues to torment us, continues to cause many of our kin to die suddenly!"
As he spoke of these emotional matters, the Ying Family Ancestor's voice choked, and the corners of his eyes glistened with tears.
After taking a deep breath to compose himself, the Ying Family Ancestor continued, "Tell me, if Zhao Yuan can truly cure this strange illness, how many of our family members will be saved because of him? Forget three Spiritual Tablets—even five, or ten, I would still consider it a worthy price!"
