Their skills were low, their strength was small, it was too difficult.
“The medicine is here!”
The people who had been busy drying clothes immediately rushed over upon hearing the shout.
A crude ceramic bowl held the medicine, still steaming gently.
The village women wore stern expressions as they ladled the medicine to the people.
Normally, these medicines would cost money, but since the one who prepared the medicine was Immortal Peng and the one who boiled it was one of his attendants, Immortal Peng said that this would offset the villagers’ exorbitant prices. This meant that they could demand the lodging fees from the caravan at the same rate as before. Thinking of it this way, they felt a little better—after all, if the caravan left, they wouldn’t make any money.
“Don’t push!”
The crowd surged, the noise grew louder.
Mo Li heard the commotion from inside the house. Without having time to ask more about Fengxing Pavilion, he hurried outside.
Upon seeing the situation, he realized that during the time he and Meng Qi had spent delayed in Doctor Peng’s house, over a hundred more people had arrived in Lingyao Village.
There wasn’t nearly enough medicine, which led to the scuffle.
Those who traded near Pengze generally knew how terrifying the plague was. Even those who didn’t knew had heard about it from the hired drivers, so everyone wanted to drink the medicine first, fearing that if they waited too long, they’d be haunted by hungry ghosts.
In the past, caravans and people from neighboring villages also came to Lingyao Village seeking medical help, but they came in waves and didn’t arrive all at once.
Today was different. The torrential rain had flooded many places, causing the water levels of rivers and lakes to rise and spill over the embankments, turning the lower-lying areas into swamps.
People from nearby villages, in panic, rowed boats to Lingyao Village, while the villagers actively went out to “rescue” them.
These villagers only thought that the more people came, the more money they could make, without considering how many people the village could actually accommodate.
Seeing the situation turning bad, Meng Qi took a deep breath and shouted angrily.
The chaotic crowd suddenly paused, feeling dizzy and holding their heads, looking around in terror.
Doctor Peng, supported by Han Can and Mo Li, was brought outside. Upon seeing the crowd, Doctor Han’s expression also changed.
“Why are you pushing?” Han Can scolded loudly with practiced ease, “You need to follow Immortal Peng’s instructions on how to take the medicine. How long have you soaked in the water? What water did you soak in? Rushing to drink the medicine like this—what if you drink the wrong one?”
Mo Li: “…”
Though it was nonsense, it was surprisingly effective?
The crowd slowly dispersed. Although some of them didn’t believe in Doctor Peng’s abilities as much, truly seeing him as an immortal, everyone still valued their lives.
“Those over forty, under fifteen, and anyone who has soaked in the water for over an hour, let Immortal Peng take a look first.
“Don’t push. If you mess up and go to the wrong place, you’ll just delay things more!”
Han Can had inner strength, and his loud voice could be heard from far away.
The caravan outsiders saw that the attendants around Immortal Peng did have some skill and gradually quieted down.
In this situation, Doctor Peng clearly didn’t have time to check each person’s pulse. Instead, he mainly relied on observation, separating those who were weak, looked pale, and were older. These people had a higher chance of developing a fever and severe illness after being invaded by the evil force due to their weak constitution.
“Today, I’m afraid I’ll have to trouble my wise nephew,” Doctor Peng said worriedly.
With just him and Han Can, there was no way they could handle the growing crowd.
Mo Li agreed without hesitation. For martial arts masters, feeling a pulse could be done very quickly, without needing to feel it carefully. They could quickly determine if someone was unwell, such as if they had a fever or cold sweat, while passing bowls, preventing crowding, or separating people.
Some people noticed Mo Li’s actions, but they didn’t think much of it. For one, Mo Li had changed clothes, so they thought he was just one of Immortal Peng’s attendants. For another, the malicious martial artists in Lingyao Village thought that, in the end, everyone feared death, and this guy who seemed to have some influence was still bowing down obediently to work for Immortal Peng.
Mo Li wasn’t in the mood to care about the others, but Meng Qi was different.
As a result, the people of Lingyao Village found that their luck had taken a sharp turn for the worse that day. They tripped over stones while walking, their clothes got caught on tree branches, and torn.
At first, some cursed out loud, but gradually, no one dared to speak anymore. Could they really have done something wrong, something that had affected their fortune and longevity?
As they watched the increasing number of people in the village, the wide grins that had once spread across their faces slowly disappeared. They ran back to fetch the jars of ointment and hid their silver, nervously seeking out Immortal Peng. Lingyao Village had been visited by river bandits before, and they feared that thieves had mixed in among the crowd and might kill them in the night.
After all, Lingyao Village was the wealthiest village nearby, and the caravans gathered here were carrying goods.
The villagers grew more frightened as they thought about it.
Watching Doctor Peng being so busy that his feet barely touched the ground, racking his brain to come up with stories to placate the villagers, Mo Li let out a deep sigh.
Han Can quietly closed the door, then whispered to Mo Li in the backyard, “Don’t worry. In fact, there aren’t any river bandits around here anymore. If there are, they’re just displaced people who don’t know martial arts. The caravan can handle them on their own. I know quite a few disciples from Hengshan Sect, as well as some senior and junior brothers from the outer sect who work for security agencies. They say that Fengxing Pavilion has been clearing out the river bandits in Pengze recently, which is quite strange. Fengxing Pavilion is usually just in the business of selling information. Though there are some powerful martial artists among them, they don’t usually act directly, so this is pretty unusual…”
Meng Qi didn’t follow them as they spoke, but he could hear everything.
Hearing what Han Can said, both Mo Li and Meng Qi began to ponder.
Han Can continued, “It’s not that eradicating river bandits is a bad thing. It’s just that Pengze is vast, and even if one group of bandits is wiped out, another will spring up in less than half a year. As long as there’s territory with opportunities to profit, there will always be impoverished people from the martial world who turn to banditry. Unless the government itself steps in, there’s nothing anyone else can do.”
Even the government would have to maintain a permanent presence to prevent trouble.
And there’s always the possibility of collusion between officials and bandits, though Han Can didn’t know about that. He had spent ten years studying martial arts at Hengshan Sect and had never dealt with the authorities.
Mo Li thought for a moment and asked, “Does Uncle Peng think there’s something strange about this?”
“Well… Uncle didn’t ask you about Fengxing Pavilion because of the river bandits, even though it’s odd. For the people near Pengze, it’s actually a good thing. Uncle has something else he wants to ask. To be honest, we’ve never had direct dealings with people from Fengxing Pavilion, but we do have a sort of unspoken understanding.” Han Can seemed hesitant, as if unsure how to explain.
Mo Li wasn’t as inexperienced as he had been when he first left Zhushan County. After all he had seen and heard along the way, combined with Meng Qi’s constant showing off, he could grasp the key points of a situation with just a little thought.
“Is it about the ointment?”
Han Can looked at him in surprise. “How did you know?”
It seemed Mo Li had guessed right. He continued, “Is Fengxing Pavilion selling ointments to prevent the plague to people in the martial world?”
Thinking Mo Li had purchased it himself, Han Can quickly nodded. “Yes, but the formula for their ointment is different from ours. They add fragrances to make it smell much better, and the ointment is meant to be applied to the skin. When it gets wet, it dissolves more slowly. It’s meant to keep insects away with the scent and to form a thick layer so the skin doesn’t come into direct contact with the water. That way, the invisible parasites can’t burrow into the skin. Uncle Peng said that as long as you understand the cause of the illness, it’s not hard to create a similar ointment. The ointment sold by Fengxing Pavilion is more like a balm… a bit more aesthetically pleasing. When applied, it doesn’t look like you’ve smeared mud all over yourself, so it’s less noticeable. I’ve heard that some of the caravan leaders who dislike our ointment use theirs, as well as scholars and young nobles who want to take boat rides but are afraid of falling into the water. Uncle Peng actually thinks it’s a good thing.”
Doctor Peng wasn’t opposed to improving the ointment’s formula, but his goal was to make it more practical and affordable, so the poor could buy it.
He didn’t care if it smelled bad or looked ugly, as long as it could save lives.
“Fengxing Pavilion is well-informed, so it’s not surprising that they know the truth about the plague,” Mo Li said slowly.
“Exactly,” Han Can agreed.
Fengxing Pavilion sold information, and their clients were either martial artists or merchants, not poor villagers. Ironically, the real “Immortal Peng Ointment” didn’t even reach these people.
“It’s said that Fengxing Pavilion has eyes and ears everywhere. I bet they’ve been to Lingyao Village more than once.”
As soon as Han Can finished speaking, Mo Li and Meng Qi exchanged strange looks.
Indeed, there might be at least one member of Fengxing Pavilion in the village right now, traveling with them—Lao Qi, the carter.
Of course, it was also possible they weren’t from Fengxing Pavilion. It was just speculation.
“To be honest, the thing I worry about most isn’t the ignorant villagers or even the government. I’m most afraid of some well-meaning, justice-driven martial artist who knows nothing but wants to play the hero,” Han Can said with a pained expression. “Especially the kind from famous righteous sects—young and inexperienced, all fists and no words.”
Meng Qi understood right away, and Mo Li thought of the time they encountered a disciple of the Golden Sword Daoist from Qingcheng Sect in Qinghu Town, Pingzhou. That disciple had led a group of people, taking a clerk from a fabric shop hostage and barging into the town, thinking they could eradicate the local branch of the Holy Lotus Sect and bring justice.
They hadn’t even considered whether they were capable of defeating the Holy Lotus Sect’s incense master, and in the end, they got the clerk killed.
Although Meng Qi and Mo Li eventually disabled these people’s martial arts, if it hadn’t been for them, the incense master of the Holy Lotus Sect likely would’ve claimed their lives as well.
Doctor Peng, however, was not some rebel group like the Holy Lotus Sect attempting to deceive the public and stage a revolt. But if a reckless young hero showed up at his doorstep, it would certainly cause trouble.
“In the past, a few others came around. When they heard I was a disciple of Hengshan Sect, instead of being intimidated, they got all excited, demanding that Hengshan Sect clean house. I figured they either wanted Hengshan Sect to make a big fool of itself to bring glory to their own sect, or they truly believed that exposing the dirt of a reputable sect would make them famous heroes, admired by all,” Han Can vented, having finally found someone to share his frustrations with.
Seeing Mo Li’s serious expression, Han Can quickly waved his hand and continued, “But later, I heard that Fengxing Pavilion stepped in, and those types of people became fewer. The ones who did come were so weak that I could handle them myself. No matter how much noise they made, no one from Hengshan Sect came looking for me, and there weren’t any big disturbances in the martial world. So, I do owe Fengxing Pavilion a debt for that.”
This was the unspoken understanding Han Can had mentioned.
Fengxing Pavilion must have investigated the background of Lingyao Village. They didn’t expose Doctor Peng as a charlatan, nor did they undercut the village by selling cheaper ointments. On the contrary, they even helped solve some of these issues quietly, which was indeed a great favor.
Han Can glanced toward the house and lowered his voice. “Uncle believes that Fengxing Pavilion found those doctors who escaped years ago, which is why they know the truth about the plague. He really wants to know what happened to the doctors who were exiled by the government back then and to rescue them if possible. Those two doctors were both named Wei and were cousins. After all these years, we don’t know what became of them. But Uncle and I feel indebted to Fengxing Pavilion, and we don’t have much money left after buying medicinal herbs to improve the ointment. I’m just a nobody in Hengshan Sect, and the most I can do is use my connections with some outer sect brothers working in security agencies to buy a little information from the lower levels of Fengxing Pavilion. But Uncle fears hearing bad news after all this time…”
This was the second time Han Can had mentioned “all these years” in just a short conversation.
If the Wei brothers had been severely injured or couldn’t survive the hardships of exile, they might have long since passed away.
And if they were still alive, Doctor Peng probably didn’t have the face to meet them.
The Wei brothers had experienced a great upheaval—losing their home, being exiled, and branded as criminals. If they knew that Doctor Peng had resorted to practices they despised, they might very well spit in his face in anger. Even if that anger eventually subsided and they came to understand the difficult situation Doctor Peng had been in, it would only make them feel worse. They might think that if they had done the same, they could have saved their families. The thought alone could be unbearable.
In these difficult times, survival was already hard enough.
Why add more to someone’s burden?
That was why Doctor Peng had been so hesitant, and without money or connections, it became a knot in his heart.
“When I saw you all today and learned that your sworn brother is the disciple of the famous Doctor Qin, and, um… your sworn brother’s martial arts are also excellent, I wanted to ask for your help,” Han Can said awkwardly, glancing toward Meng Qi in the distance. Meng Qi had his hands behind his back, pretending to examine the medicinal plants nearby.
Mo Li didn’t get the chance to find out whether Han Can had intended to say “husband” or “wife.”
He only knew that Meng Qi was thoroughly pleased with himself.
It was written all over his back.
Even though to others, it appeared to be the elegant and carefree posture of someone beyond the mundane.
—No, focus. We’re discussing serious matters. Why does my gaze keep drifting toward a certain someone?
Mo Li gathered his thoughts and whispered, “Fine. I’ve met the master of Fengxing Pavilion. I will definitely help Uncle Peng find out about those two elders’ whereabouts.”
Author’s Note:
In this chapter:
Han Can: Life is tough, Uncle Peng’s life is even tougher.
Meng Qi: Sneakily causing trouble.
Mo Li: Silently watching ↑.
Fengxing Pavilion: Quietly handling things behind the scenes.
