Chapter 503: Death Without Peace
"Look at you, young Daoist, being all polite..."
The old woman grumbled at Qin Sang as she turned her head and called out, "Old man, old man, we’ve got another mouth to feed. Dish out an extra bowl of rice!"
"Where are all these mouths coming from?"
An old man poked his head out from the woodshed. When he caught sight of Qin Sang, a faint light flickered in his eyes.
He gave Qin Sang a once-over but, upon noticing the mud splattered on his leggings, a trace of disappointment flashed across the old man’s face. It was so fleeting it was almost imperceptible. He gave a low grunt and withdrew without another word.
The small courtyard was extremely narrow and dilapidated.
Such ramshackle dwellings were already rare even in Xianyuan City. Qin Sang’s sharp nose caught the scent of food wafting from the woodshed. The scent was from coarse grains and wild vegetables, the same kind of humble fare he had once eaten at Qingyang Temple.
Clearly, the old couple could not afford to repair their home.
Following the old woman, Qin Sang walked toward a squat stone house with only two rooms. Thick thatching covered the wooden doors. As soon as she opened one, a strong medicinal odor rushed out, instantly overpowering the smell of food.
"Qiuxian, come greet the Daoist Master."
The old woman pulled out a young child from inside. The child was terribly small and thin, his face yellowed with malnourishment. One glance, and Qin Sang could tell the boy’s vital energy was weak. He was clearly plagued by chronic illness.
The room was dimly lit. A battered Eight Immortals Table[1], propped up by stones because of a broken leg, stood in the middle. Atop it sat a steaming bowl of dark medicinal soup, no doubt brewed for the boy.