Believes Only in Deities, Ignorant of the Mortal World
When Meng Qi and Mo Li came out, they were led to the backyard where Immortal Peng was watching several apprentice-like figures preparing medicine in front of a low table.
These apprentices moved with agility, never needing the small brass scale beside them. With just a grab, they knew the exact amount.
Others might think they had honed their skills and developed excellent instincts, but Mo Li noticed that one of them took a step too slowly and bumped into the person behind them, causing both of their actions to falter for a moment. The mistake was small and quickly corrected, but their hands were no longer as steady. It wasn’t until they finished walking around the herb cabinet that their movements returned to their previous proficiency.
Looking at the rows of herb cabinets, the wear on the brass handles revealed hidden details.
——These people had studied medicine, but their talents were mediocre. Outside, they might not even be as good as an ordinary apprentice in a regular pharmacy.
At least out there, they would see different prescriptions every day, while these people had likely been using the same one for years.
“One portion of medicine, three portions of water. Drink the first decoction immediately, and the second two hours later. Go now.”
After Immortal Peng gave his instructions, the young servant quickly ran out with the bundled medicine.
Turning back to see Meng Qi and Mo Li emerging, Immortal Peng was startled.
Earlier in the crowd, he had thought these two stood out, possibly from aristocratic families. Now, seeing them up close, he realized he might have underestimated them.
The old saying goes that people are judged by their appearance and monks by their attire. No matter how fine their clothes, the aura a person exudes cannot be concealed. Immortal Peng, now in his seventies, had seen many people in his time. He had even treated a once-famous scholar of the literary world, who had over ten talented disciples, all dressed alike in black scarves and blue cloth robes. Yet, Immortal Peng could still tell their backgrounds and personalities at a glance.
Some things are hard to erase, no matter how much they change.
The simpler and more unadorned the clothing, the more it reveals a person’s essence.
Meng Qi and Mo Li had previously kept a disheveled appearance to conceal themselves, but now that they had changed clothes and neatly combed their hair, their foreheads and faces were exposed. Immortal Peng suddenly realized that his previous assumptions were wrong—these two were even more extraordinary than he had thought.
——They were too calm, and far too composed.
After facing a rare storm and arriving in such a “strange” village, how could ordinary people remain so still? Surely they would ask countless questions, and those of high status would be even more intolerant of such crude conditions, complaining about the rough clothes, the heavy, dirty furniture, the bad tea, and the shabby house.
It would be impossible for them to sit there without a care, casually sipping tea.
“You added herbs,” Mo Li remarked confidently as he identified the flavor in the tea.
It was very bitter, but not from poor-quality tea leaves.
“Ginger, kudzu root, ephedra…”
These herbs had been boiled, and the broth mixed with water and ginger tea leaves.
Mo Li frowned and said, “Why not simply take the medicine? Tea like this loses the medicinal properties and may not be effective.”
“We don’t know when the flood will recede, and waiting for the medicine merchants could take a month.”
Immortal Peng hadn’t expected Mo Li to identify the herbs just by drinking the tea. However, the formula was common, and anyone who had studied medicine and knew a few cold remedy formulas could guess it after identifying one ingredient. There was no need to taste them all; even guessing would be accurate. So, while he remained cautious, he still smiled and said, “I didn’t expect to encounter a passerby knowledgeable in medicine today.”
Mo Li paused, then said pointedly, “I thought many doctors would come to Lingyao Village.”
Immortal Peng’s face subtly changed.
The light inside the room was dim, making it difficult for most to notice.
Meng Qi sipped the tea—it was too bitter to enjoy—and surveyed the room. There didn’t seem to be any hidden mechanisms here, and as for secret chambers or cellars, even if they existed, they likely weren’t in this house. The furnishings were simple, consistent with what one would expect in a fishing village.
The only particularly notable feature was the entire wall of herb cabinets.
Made from fine wood with brass handles, each drawer had three compartments. Such refined carpentry was almost impossible to find in a fishing village.
“Lingyao Village isn’t named for its abundance of medicinal herbs. It’s known for a life-saving medicine. You two may be from Kuaiji County, so you might not know about a strange illness near Pengze. Those who touch water fall ill immediately, and if they don’t receive treatment right away, even a divine doctor cannot save them once the symptoms appear. All they can do is wait to die.” Immortal Peng’s smile faded as he spoke gravely. “But there’s no need for you two to worry. Your medicine has already been prepared, and I’ve ordered someone to start brewing it.”
“Your kindness is appreciated, but the medicine isn’t necessary. You can save it for the merchant caravans outside.” Meng Qi twirled the teacup in his hand as he spoke.
Immortal Peng was shocked and quickly said, “I see this gentleman understands medicine. If you’re concerned about safety while traveling, I can reprepare the formula and have it brewed before you.”
“Immortal Peng, you’ve misunderstood.”
Meng Qi set down the teacup, a faint smile playing on his lips as he said, “We overheard earlier that this illness is caused by karmic debts from past lives. Drinking medicine can dispel evil and prevent misfortune. By that logic… we, blessed by fortune since birth, likely don’t need it.”
Immortal Peng’s face turned ashen.
The young servants and guards in the room glared at them.
“Immortal Peng, if he doesn’t want to drink the medicine, so be it. He didn’t even pay for it!” one of the guards said, bowing his head but speaking with malice. “When he gets a high fever in a few days, he’ll beg for the medicine, and there might not be any left.”
“Enough!” Immortal Peng snapped.
He waved them off, saying, “You may all leave now.”
The others became anxious, protesting, “How can this be? They’ve shown disrespect to Immortal Peng.”
“Yes, there’s no reward for saving people like them. Since they think we’re trying to rob and kill them, let them go.”
Immortal Peng smiled bitterly to himself. These two were obviously not easy to deal with, and he couldn’t send them away so casually.
He sighed and pointed to one person to stay behind, while the others reluctantly left the room.
The one who remained was a man in his thirties, ordinary in both appearance and dress, but he was the only one with internal martial arts training.
His martial skills were better than most common folk, but in Meng Qi’s eyes, he wouldn’t stand a chance in a single move. The man gently closed the door and walked over to massage Immortal Peng’s temples.
“Ah.” Immortal Peng let out a long breath and shook his head, saying, “It’s not surprising that you two don’t believe me. I, too, disdained such superstitions in my younger days, but…”
He didn’t finish his sentence.
His once kind and gentle face now looked old and weary under the dim candlelight.
Meng Qi thought, decades long—it must be quite the story. He quietly prepared to push his teacup to the edge of the table.
And Mo Li saw him.
For some reason, Meng Qi felt guilty and quietly picked up the teacup again.
Mo Li: “…”
Actually, there’s no need to drink the tea. The dragon vein won’t catch a cold.
Immortal Peng didn’t notice their movements. He awoke from his daze and said wearily, “The plague is real. Today, you two must take the medicine. If you wait until the day after tomorrow, it will be too late…”
“Because the disease has already entered the bloodstream?” Mo Li stared at Immortal Peng and said under the latter’s shocked gaze, “Why would it be too late then? There would still be another remedy.”
For this particular disease, Elder Qin had given Mo Li more than a dozen prescriptions. When the disease reached its late stages, it caused multiple organ issues, and sometimes it was barely possible to keep someone alive. As for the pre-symptomatic remedies, even Qin Lu wasn’t sure because by the time the illness manifested, the ‘evil energy’ had already deeply infiltrated the organs and blood vessels, continuing to grow, making it impossible to eradicate. Upon further investigation, the ‘evil energy’ had entered the body several years earlier, and it was only thanks to continuously diagnosing and treating the villagers around Pengze that the traces of the ‘evil energy’ were discovered.
The first opportunity, and the best opportunity, came during the high fever a few days after touching water. As long as the treatment was proper, the onset of the disease could be significantly delayed, possibly preventing it from manifesting for an entire lifetime.
Why had it now become necessary to take medicine before the fever even appeared? After all, touching water didn’t necessarily mean one had contracted the illness.
Under Immortal Peng’s horrified gaze, Mo Li recited the prescription.
Immortal Peng could barely speak, stammering, “How… how do you know this prescription?”
“My master told several doctors near Pengze about the remedy back then. Many should be aware of it,” Mo Li replied, frowning slightly as he openly revealed his identity.
“What? You’re Senior Brother Qin’s disciple?!” Immortal Peng shot to his feet, only to feel dizzy. Fortunately, the person beside him caught him just in time.
The martial artist nearby, who had clearly also heard of Qin Lu, looked at Mo Li in shock.
“Uncle, catch your breath and sit down,” the martial artist said in a flurry, fumbling to take out a medicine bottle.
This familiar action stirred Mo Li’s guilt, reminding him of Qin Lu.
Immortal Peng had maintained his health well and didn’t seem ill, but time spares no one. Immortal Peng wasn’t a martial arts master, so standing up too quickly had nearly caused him to faint.
“Phew, I’m fine.” Immortal Peng slowly sat down and took a heart-protecting pill with some warm water.
He looked at Mo Li, half in amazement, half in awe. “Allow me to address you as a nephew… It has been decades since your master, Senior Brother Qin, practiced medicine in the Pengze area. Back then, he had no disciples. Later, I heard bits and pieces of news about him from merchant caravans. But after the fall of Chu, there was no further word. How is Senior Brother Qin’s health? He must be around eighty years old now?”
“My master has lived in seclusion for many years. Though he’s old, his health is still relatively strong.”
“Of course, that’s only natural,” Immortal Peng nodded repeatedly, sighing. “Senior Brother Qin is skilled in martial arts. Living to a hundred would be no problem for him. Unlike me, who is near the end of my days. Ah, Pengze is damp, and during the rainy season, my bones ache. One day, I’ll fall gravely ill and never get back up.”
“Uncle!” The martial artist hurriedly tried to stop him, his eyes reddening.
Immortal Peng patted his junior’s hand. His face, tired and old, suddenly streamed with tears. He wiped them away and looked at Mo Li with a guilty expression. “Nephew, you’ve witnessed a farce, seen an old fool’s antics. How fortunate it is that you’re here. If it were Senior Brother Qin, I wouldn’t have the face to meet him.”
Mo Li had already suspected there was more to Immortal Peng’s mystical claims.
People change. If Old Mister Qin’s former friends had become like the Holy Lotus Sect, deceiving the ignorant and using their medical skills to treat diseases while falsely claiming to be immortals, Mo Li couldn’t tolerate it. As Zhang Gongzhuo once wrote in his medical essays, medicine and remedies should be shared, allowing more people to learn. That is the true essence of saving lives.
Hoarding knowledge, deceiving the people, and extorting money—that’s the path of evil.
Since entering Lingyao Village, Mo Li had probed several times and realized that perhaps things weren’t as bad as he had feared. Still, he needed to hear Immortal Peng explain the full story.
Moreover, Immortal Peng clearly wasn’t keen on revealing his past to outsiders, so Mo Li had to disclose his identity.
“If my master were here, he’d be just as puzzled as I am. What exactly happened in Pengze over these years?”
“This is a long story,” Immortal Peng said with a sorrowful expression. His body swayed, and the veins on the back of his hand bulged.
But the junior beside him couldn’t hold back his anger and blurted out, “If Elder Qin were here, he would indeed be shocked. He left behind the prescription, telling the people of Pengze that the plague could be cured. He worked with Uncle Peng and gathered all the doctors from nearby to treat the sick. Yet, why did the villagers repay their kindness with enmity? They drove away, or even killed, the doctors who saved their lives!”
“What?”
Mo Li was genuinely shocked.
Meng Qi’s expression also changed drastically, and a flood of thoughts rushed through his mind—Holy Lotus Sect, Prince Ning, Xiliang’s Ayanpuka, and even Fengxing Pavilion all came to mind.
But he never expected what the martial artist said next.
“Elder Qin’s prescription was effective. My father, Uncle Peng, and several other doctors worked tirelessly day and night to improve the formula. Though it couldn’t save everyone, it at least curbed the disease. Even young children, if treated in time, wouldn’t die from the illness by the age of ten, bloated like demons. But… doctors save lives, and yet many people are blind. My father and the other doctors had families, and some of their relatives fell ill.
“My mother died of the plague, and my eldest brother also fell ill. Despite having the prescription and my father doing everything he could to treat him, my brother eventually succumbed to organ failure. At the same time, several severely ill patients in the village died in quick succession. Among them were patients who had recovered after taking the medicine, only to fall ill again and die. After repeated occurrences, the villagers not only showed no gratitude to my father but claimed that their poverty and misfortune destined them for the realm of hungry ghosts, and they should burn incense and pray to the gods. My father begged them to use money to buy medicine from the city, apply medicinal ointments, and take their medicine… but the villagers wouldn’t listen. They built temples and invited shamans, clashing with my father several times. My father was beaten until he was gravely injured… and died three days later!”
The martial artist was in tears, unable to continue.
Immortal Peng spoke with a pained voice, “Cases like that of Doctor Han and his nephew are not isolated. Some doctors were driven away by the villagers, others were beaten to death, and some were even handed over to the authorities… where foolish officials sentenced them to flogging or exile.”
Mo Li was frozen in place, his gaze locked.
Several cracks appeared silently on the table where his hand rested.
Seeing the situation deteriorate, Meng Qi quickly pressed his hand on Mo Li’s right arm, helping to smooth out his turbulent energy channels.
“Dear nephew?” Immortal Peng saw things taking a bad turn and quickly said, “Ah Can, bring the medicine.”
“I’m fine,” Mo Li exhaled slowly, but his vision was still swimming with black spots.
This was the first time Doctor Mo had experienced what it felt like to be “seized with rage.”
Immortal Peng… no, Doctor Peng, was likely not lying. These were events that anyone with the will to investigate could confirm, especially those involving verdicts from the local courts. As long as the courts hadn’t been destroyed by fire or flood, there would be old records of these cases.
When Mo Li was studying those prescriptions, Qin Lu had explicitly stated that once the illness manifested, half of the patients would not survive. Even with the prescription, nine out of ten long-term sufferers wouldn’t make it, as their organs and meridians would be completely ruined, like a fishing net full of holes that couldn’t be mended. The focus had to be on prevention.
Applying ointment before touching water and using powerful medicine at the first signs of high fever could save more lives. If this practice persisted for over ten years, the plague might be eradicated from the Pengze area.
However, even Qin Lu hadn’t anticipated that those who recovered would fear falling ill again, while those who remained uncured would spiral into madness, creating such a scene.
Everything had seemed to be improving when he left Pengze.
The plague’s onset was prolonged and torturous. Illiterate and ignorant villagers, realizing years later that they were still going to die even with treatment—
Mo Li closed his eyes and whispered, “Fortunately, my master is not here today—only I am.”
He took a deep breath, stood tall, and cupped his hands. “It was rash of me today.”
“Nephew, you’re too polite,” Doctor Peng hunched over, speaking as if this confession had drained half of his energy. He appeared utterly defeated. In a low voice, he continued, “I’ve lived to this day only out of a cowardly fear of death, pretending to be a deity.”
