Zhang Yuqiu gently laid Li Taiming’s body back down onto the table, prone. Wang Jue looked grave, while Hou Dayong remarked with confusion, “How could he end up like this? Logically, someone with an Undying Body shouldn't die.”

“He isn’t dead,” Wang Jue nodded affirmatively. “He is merely hovering near death, which is practically the same thing.”

“What do doctors call this state?” Zhang Yuqiu nudged Li Taiming’s shoulder again, confirming his complete lack of reaction to external stimuli.

“We call it a deep coma.”

“Isn’t that a vegetative state? Aside from the faintest breath, he shows no response to anything external,” Zhang Yuqiu pressed.

“If his brain suffered severe, irreversible damage, he could become vegetative. However, we can’t tell where his injury lies right now. The reason they are called Undying is because their bodies can self-heal after being wounded.” Wang Jue rested his chin in one hand, analyzing the situation like a medical expert.

Zhang Yuqiu wasn't convinced and continued to challenge his authority. “But his current condition directly contradicts the self-healing capability of an Undying Body.”

“Then there are two possibilities: first, he isn't actually an Undying Body, or second, the Puppet King forcibly put him into this state,” Hou Dayong theorized. He then jumped off the table and strode toward the inner room of the house, Wang Jue following close behind. Zhang Yuqiu remained alone beside Li Taiming. Just as she turned to follow them, something snagged her foot. She looked down to see it was Li Taiming’s right foot, inexplicably positioned in front of hers, causing her to nearly stumble.

As she moved her foot away from Li Taiming’s, something suddenly gripped her hand. Looking closer, even though Li Taiming was pressed flat onto the table, completely immobile, his right hand was tightly clasped around hers, pressing a small paper ball into her palm. Immediately after, the arm went limp, swinging uselessly from his side like a severed marionette string, releasing Zhang Yuqiu’s hand.

Zhang Yuqiu took the crumpled paper and tentatively pushed Li Taiming’s shoulder again. This time, he was truly unresponsive, just like a corpse. Puzzled, she unfolded the note. Scrawled crookedly inside were three characters: “Soul-Pinning Cone.” Zhang Yuqiu’s heart jumped. She tried to lift Li Taiming’s body from the stool, raising each limb individually, ensuring nothing was physically pinning him down. Uneasily, she tucked the note away and followed Wang Jue’s footsteps into the inner room.

The inner room was empty, even darker than the main hall. There was only a small door leading to the back courtyard, where Hou Dayong and Wang Jue stood, trying every method to force it open. Whether kicked violently or tapped gently, the door didn't budge, as if it had been cast from reinforced concrete.

Zhang Yuqiu was about to mention her discovery, but she stopped herself, realizing this was not their territory. Someone might be watching. If she shared this secret, anyone observing from the shadows would also learn of it, nullifying all of Li Taiming’s painstaking efforts. So, she quietly slipped the paper ball into her pocket and stood silently by, waiting for the two men to succeed in opening the door.

“Why did it take you so long to get over here?” Seeing Zhang Yuqiu standing silently beside him, Wang Jue couldn’t help but ask.

“Ahem…” Zhang Yuqiu shot Wang Jue a warning glance. “It’s nothing. I was just confirming whether Li Taiming was truly unconscious. I think his condition is more like a persistent vegetative state.”

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