"Mingyue, fetch two doses of medicine for the old gentleman."
The old Daoist called out, brush in hand, quickly setting down a prescription on paper.
The young Daoist hurried over, gathered the medicinal herbs according to the prescription, ground them with a roller mill, and wrapped them in lotus leaves. All the while, he had to attend to other patients as well. After bustling about, a sheen of sweat coated his forehead.
The elderly man stood awkwardly to the side, watching the young Daoist work. His hands trembled slightly as he took the medicine wrapped in lotus leaves. He walked before Daoist Priest Jixin, hesitating as if wanting to speak. Waiting until Daoist Priest Jixin finished examining another patient, he opened his palm and stammered softly, "Living Immortal, have mercy. This humble old man came from the north and only just found a place to stay. My boy only found work at the ferry yesterday, and his wages won't be paid until next month. I have only these few copper coins on hand..."
Daoist Priest Jixin finished writing another patient's prescription and handed it to Mingyue to fill. He looked up at the old man and sighed softly. "Old sir, these are enough for the medicine. There is no rush for the consultation fee. It will not be too late to bring it once your family is better off. Let us put it on the ledger for now."
Once Daoist Priest Jixin recorded it in the thick ledger, the old man departed with a face full of gratitude.
Sitting at the very back, Qin Sang watched the master and disciple bustling about, his thoughts churning. Without realizing it, dusk had already fallen, leaving only the two men who had helped him up the mountain ahead of him.
After examining over a dozen patients in a row, more than half turned out to be from the north. Most of them had their consultation fees recorded on the ledger, and some could not even afford the cost of the medicine. Throughout the entire afternoon, aside from a couple coming for talismans to ward off evil spirits and an old woman asking for divination lots, not a single person had come to burn incense. The old Daoist had barely taken in any money, yet neither master nor disciple showed the slightest hint of impatience on their faces, which filled Qin Sang with deep admiration.
"Little brother, lift your leg."
When the patients ahead had finished their visits, Qin Sang propped himself up on his stick and walked over, lifting his injured leg as the old Daoist instructed.
Watching the old Daoist write the prescription, order the herbs to be fetched, and then record it on the ledger—his voice unable to conceal his weariness—Qin Sang's heart stirred, and he spoke in a soft voice, "Daoist Priest, I hear that refugees from the north are pouring in without end. In the future, more and more people are bound to seek your medical help. There are only you and the little Daoist in the temple, and you also have to go up the mountain to gather herbs. I fear you won't be able to keep up..."
Before he could finish, Qin Sang caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye of the little Daoist's eyes lighting up, looking at his master with eager anticipation.
Without looking up, Daoist Priest Jixin cut Qin Sang off. "Little brother, you saw the temple's situation just now. The patrons and faithful coming and going are all poor folk. This poor Daoist has the heart but lacks the strength. In a year, I barely earn a few coppers in incense money. I cannot afford to keep Daoists, nor can I afford to pay you a monthly wage."
The young Daoist Mingyue's eyes dimmed, and his lips pouted.
Qin Sang had not expected the old Daoist to be so blunt. Even so, he was not one to give up easily. He gave an embarrassed chuckle and said, "To tell the truth, Daoist Priest, I truly am looking for a place to shelter. Unfortunately, I injured my leg, making it hard to find a living. Only after seeing both Daoist priests so busy did the thought cross my mind. I seek no monthly wage; I only ask for a roof over my head to keep out the wind and rain, and a bite to eat."
Daoist Priest Jixin looked up at Qin Sang, stroked his long beard, and said, "Little brother, you are in the prime of your youth. Why resign yourself to the wilderness? Go to the ferry and find an honest trade, settle down, and start a family—that is the proper path."
Seeing the softening in Daoist Priest Jixin's tone, Qin Sang struck while the iron was hot. "The Daoist Priest's insight is keen. In the village, I studied for a few years under a tutor. I can read and write, so I can help you transcribe records and grind medicinal herbs. Once my injury heals, I can also go up the mountain with you to gather herbs. If you do not mind, let me stay for a trial month. If I truly prove useless, it will not be too late to drive me down the mountain..."
Daoist Priest Jixin was indeed swayed. Squinting, he scrutinized Qin Sang for a long while. "Very well. I am just a poor old Daoist; I have no fear that you could plot anything from me."
With that, Daoist Priest Jixin took a brush and drew out a sheet of yellow paper.
"Write a couple of characters for me to see."
Qin Sang took the brush, wrote a few characters from dictation, and looked at Daoist Priest Jixin with trepidation.
In his previous life, he did not know how to use a brush. Fortunately, Qin Sanwa had learned, but the handwriting was still quite rough—one could only say the strokes held together and were legible, though there were two characters he failed to write.
However, Qin Sang had also realized that this world was much like ancient times in his past life: those who were literate were an extreme minority, so he could still count as a high-level talent.
Seeing Daoist Priest Jixin holding the yellow paper without speaking, Qin Sang made amends aloud: "Since childhood, I have loved learning, but misfortune befell my family and I only studied for a few years. If the Daoist Priest would take me in, I will surely study diligently and practice hard in the future."
"Passable."
Daoist Priest Jixin nodded. "The temple holds nothing but Daoist scriptures and medical texts. If you are willing, you may read scriptures with Mingyue in the evenings. Furthermore, conditions in the temple are meager, and the food has little oil or meat. Can you endure that, little brother?"
"Daoist Priest, you can just call me Qin Sang," Qin Sang said hurriedly. "I also come from a poor family and can endure hardship. Rest assured, I will strictly observe the rules and precepts and cause no trouble for you."
Daoist Priest Jixin shook his head. "You have not entered the Daoist order, so there is no need to be so restrained. There is only one rule: you must not bring women inside to fool around. Outside the temple, this poor Daoist will restrain you even less. However, if you act recklessly and stir up trouble, it will have nothing to do with this poor Daoist. We make this clear beforehand, so do not blame me later for showing no leniency."
Having finally secured a place, Qin Sang agreed to everything. "I will strictly obey the Daoist Priest's instructions."
...
"Young Master Qin, none of these rooms here are occupied. You may choose one. I'll go cook dinner first, and tonight I'll bring over your bedding and Daoist robe."
Having taken Qin Sang in, Daoist Priest Jixin waived his consultation fee and had Mingyue lead him to the back to pick a room. The bedding and Daoist robe were provided for free, and he would eat with them from now on, with Mingyue in charge of cooking.
"Junior Brother Mingyue, both of us work under the Daoist Priest, and I'm a few years older than you. Just call me Senior Brother. Calling me 'Young Master' feels too distant."
Qin Sang tried to get closer to Mingyue. "In a bit, I'll help you tend the fire. First, show me around—which rooms do you and the Daoist Priest live in?"
Living with the old Daoist, Mingyue had never had any friends. With a senior brother suddenly arriving, he felt a sense of closeness too. Grinning, he pointed at a room and chirped, "Senior Brother, Master and I live there!"
Qin Sang followed his gaze and saw that Mingyue was pointing to the row of houses behind Qingyang Hall.
The entire Qingyang Temple had four courtyards. Behind Qingyang Hall were three more rows of houses, each with six rooms, divided into three on each side by a stone-stepped path running down the middle to the very rear of the temple.
The buildings were constructed of stone, and their frameworks remained intact; only the roofs were severely damaged.
Daoist Priest Jixin and Mingyue lived in the three rooms on the left of the first row.
Mingyue pointed to the other three rooms and said, "These rooms all have bamboo beds. If lay devotees stay overnight, or if patients can't make it down the mountain in time, they can stay here. Sometimes we don't charge the patients, but lay devotees pay one copper coin a night, meals not included."
Qin Sang followed behind Mingyue, listening to his explanations.
Arriving at the final row of houses, Qin Sang suddenly heard the babbling of flowing water and walked over. As it turned out, Qingyang Temple had no rear wall; at the very back lay a vast bamboo grove. Deep within the grove, spring water flowed down from the mountain summit, forming a small stream that cut through the woods. With the gurgling spring water, birdsong, and chirping insects, the setting was exceptionally peaceful and secluded.
Qin Sang took an immediate liking to it.
Chapter 8