Chapter 8: Settling Down at Qingyang Temple
"Ming Yue, prepare two doses of medicine for the old gentleman."
Daoist Jixin called out as he swiftly penned the prescription with a brush.
The young Daoist quickly walked over, following the prescription to gather the herbs, grinding them down with a pestle, and wrapping them in lotus leaves. All the while, he had to attend to other patients, and by the time he was done, a sheen of sweat had formed on his forehead.
The elderly man stood nervously nearby, watching the young Daoist work. When he finally received the medicine wrapped in lotus leaves, his hands trembled slightly. He hesitated before Daoist Jixin, waiting until the Daoist had finished attending to another patient. Then, he opened his palm and mumbled softly, "Living Immortal, you are so compassionate. I’ve only just arrived from the north, just found a place to stay, and my child only got work at the dock yesterday. The wages won’t come until next month, and all I have are these few coins..."
Daoist Jixin finished writing another prescription and handed it to Ming Yue. He then looked up at the old man and sighed softly. "Elder, this is enough to cover the cost of the medicine. There’s no need to worry about the consultation fee. When your situation improves, you can bring it later. I’ll just put it on the tab for now."
After Daoist Jixin made a note in the thick ledger, the old man left, full of gratitude.
Qin Sang sat at the back, watching the master and disciple bustle about. His thoughts were a swirl of emotions, and before he knew it, dusk had fallen. Only two people who had helped him up the mountain remained in front of him.
After seeing a dozen or so patients, more than half of whom were from the north, Daoist Jixin found that most of them could only have their fees recorded, as they couldn’t even afford the medicine. Throughout the entire afternoon, aside from a couple who came seeking talismans to ward off evil spirits and an elderly lady seeking fortune sticks[1], not a single person came to offer incense. The old Daoist earned little, yet neither he nor his disciple showed a hint of impatience, which deeply moved Qin Sang.
"Young man, lift your leg."