Chapter 8: Settling Down at Qingyang Temple

“Mingyue, get two doses of medicine for this old gentleman.”

The old Daoist called out, picked up a brush, and quickly wrote a prescription on paper.

The young Daoist hurried over, gathered the medicine according to the prescription, ground it with a mortar, and wrapped it in a lotus leaf. He had to attend to other patients in between, and after a flurry of activity, a layer of sweat appeared on his forehead.

The old man stood to the side, watching the young Daoist work with a look of unease. His hands trembled slightly as he took the lotus-leaf-wrapped medicine. He walked up to Daoist Jixin, wanting to say something but hesitating. Once Daoist Jixin finished seeing another patient, the old man opened his palm and murmured softly, “Kind immortal, have mercy. I came from the north and just found a place to stay. My child only found work at the ferry yesterday, and the wages won’t be paid until next month. I only have these few coins on me…”

Daoist Jixin finished writing another prescription, handed it to Mingyue to fill, and looked up at the old man. He sighed lightly, “Old man, this is enough for the medicine. Don’t worry about the consultation fee; it’s not too late to bring it when your family is better off. Let’s just put it on the tab for now.”

After Daoist Jixin recorded it in a thick ledger, the old man left with a face full of gratitude.

Qin Sang sat at the very back, watching the master and apprentice bustle about. His mind was restless. Before he knew it, the sky had grown dim, and only the two people who had helped him up the mountain remained in front of him.

Having seen over a dozen patients in a row, more than half were from the north. Most of them had their consultation fees put on a tab, and some couldn’t even afford the medicine. Throughout the entire afternoon, aside from a couple seeking a talisman to ward off evil and an old woman seeking a fortune, not a single person had come to offer incense. The old Daoist hadn’t made much money, yet neither the master nor the apprentice showed a hint of impatience, which left Qin Sang deeply moved.

“Little brother, lift your leg.”

Once the patient in front was finished, Qin Sang leaned on his staff and walked over, lifting his injured leg as the old Daoist instructed.

Watching the old Daoist finish writing the prescription, order the medicine to be gathered, and then record the debt—his voice unable to hide his exhaustion—Qin Sang’s heart stirred. He said softly, “Daoist, I hear that refugees from the north are arriving in a constant stream. Surely more and more people will come to you for treatment. There are only you and the young Daoist in the temple, and you still have to go up the mountain to gather herbs. I’m afraid you’re spread too thin…”

Before he could finish, Qin Sang caught a glimpse of the young Daoist’s eyes lighting up, looking at his master with full expectation.

Daoist Jixin didn’t even look up, interrupting Qin Sang, “Little brother, you’ve seen the situation in the temple yourself. The believers who come and go are all poor folk. I have the heart but lack the strength. I can’t earn enough incense money in a year to support another Daoist, nor can I afford your monthly wages.”

The young Daoist Mingyue’s eyes dimmed, and he pouted.

Qin Sang hadn’t expected the old Daoist to be so blunt, but he wasn’t one to give up so easily. He smiled sheepishly, “To be honest, Daoist, I am indeed looking for a place to stay. Unfortunately, I injured my leg and it’s hard to find work. Seeing how busy you two were just now gave me the idea. I don’t ask for wages; I only ask for a roof over my head and some work to do.”

Daoist Jixin looked up at Qin Sang, stroked his long beard, and said, “Little brother, you are in the prime of your life. Why lower yourself to the wilderness? Go to the ferry and find a proper trade to settle down and start a family; that is the right path.”

Seeing that Daoist Jixin’s tone had softened, Qin Sang struck while the iron was hot, “Daoist, please understand. I studied under a teacher in my village for a few years and can read and write. I can help you transcribe records and grind herbs, and once my leg heals, I can go up the mountain with you to gather medicine. If you don’t mind, just keep me for a month to try. If I truly prove useless, it won’t be too late to chase me down the mountain then…”

Daoist Jixin was indeed moved. He squinted and studied Qin Sang for a long time. “Fine. I am just a poor, shabby Daoist; I don’t fear what you might be after.”

With that, Daoist Jixin took the brush and pulled out a piece of yellow paper.

“Write a few characters for me to see.”

Qin Sang took the brush, wrote the characters as dictated, and looked at Daoist Jixin with trepidation.

He hadn’t known how to use a brush in his past life. Fortunately, Qin Sanwa had learned, but his handwriting was barely passable—it didn’t fall apart and was legible, though there were two characters he couldn’t write.

However, Qin Sang had also learned that this world was similar to the ancient times of his past life, where those who could read were a tiny minority. He could be considered a high-level talent.

Seeing Daoist Jixin holding the yellow paper in silence, Qin Sang added, “I have been eager to learn since I was young, but my family suffered a misfortune, so I only studied for a few years. If I am fortunate enough to be taken in by you, I will certainly study and practice diligently in the future.”

“Acceptable.”

Daoist Jixin nodded. “The temple is full of Daoist and medical texts. If you have the heart, you can study them with Mingyue in the evenings. Also, the conditions in the temple are simple, and the food is plain. Can you endure that?”

“You can just call me Qin Sang, Daoist,” Qin Sang said quickly. “I come from a poor family, too; I can endure hardship. Please rest assured, I will strictly observe the rules and precepts and will not cause you any trouble.”

Daoist Jixin shook his head. “You haven’t taken vows, so there is no need to be too constrained. There is only one rule: you must not bring women here for any illicit activities. Outside the temple, I will not restrict you, but if you cause trouble through your own misdeeds, it has nothing to do with me. I’m saying this now so you won’t blame me for being heartless later.”

Having finally been taken in, Qin Sang agreed to everything, “I will strictly follow your instructions, Daoist.”

……

“Young Master Qin, these rooms here are unoccupied. You can choose one. I’ll go cook, and tonight I’ll bring you some bedding and a Daoist robe.”

After taking Qin Sang in, Daoist Jixin waived the consultation fee and let Mingyue take Qin Sang to the back to choose a room. Bedding and robes were provided, and he would eat with them from now on, with Mingyue in charge of the cooking.

“Junior Brother Mingyue, we are both working under the Daoist. I am a few years older than you, so you should call me Senior Brother. Calling me ‘Young Master’ is too distant.”

Qin Sang tried to get close to Mingyue. “I’ll help you with the fire in a bit. Why don’t you introduce me to the place first? Which room do you and the Daoist live in?”

Mingyue had lived with the old Daoist and never had many friends. Suddenly having someone call himself “Senior Brother” made him feel close, and he pointed to a room with a grin, saying crisply, “Senior Brother, Master and I live there!”

Qin Sang looked in the direction Mingyue pointed and saw that he was indicating the row of houses behind the Qingyang Hall.

The entire Qingyang Temple had four courtyards. Behind the Qingyang Hall were three rows of houses, with six rooms per row. A small stone path in the middle led to the back of the temple, with three rooms on each side.

The houses were built of stone with sturdy frames, but the roofs were severely damaged.

Daoist 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 a lay practitioner stays overnight, or if a patient can’t make it down the mountain in time, they can stay here. Sometimes we don’t charge patients, but lay practitioners pay one coin a night, not including meals.”

Qin Sang followed behind Mingyue, listening to his introduction.

When they reached the last row of houses, Qin Sang suddenly heard the sound of gurgling water. He walked up to it and saw that the Qingyang Temple had no back wall. At the very end was a large bamboo forest. Deep within the forest, a spring flowed down from the mountain peak, forming a small stream that wound through the woods. With the tinkling of the spring and the chirping of birds and insects, the environment was exceptionally serene.

Qin Sang fell in love with it at first sight.