Chapter 9

"The well has no water, so we have to carry water for drinking, washing, and watering the garden. The steps are high and slippery, making it particularly difficult to walk."

Mingyue pouted, her tone full of dissatisfaction, and she sneakily glanced at Qinsang.

Qinsang noticed Mingyue's little thoughts and smiled slightly, "In the future, you, my junior brother, will be responsible for washing and cooking, and I'll take care of these rough tasks."

"Really?"

Mingyue jumped up, clapping her hands happily, "But we have to wait until your leg heals."

Children are indeed easy to please; Mingyue quickly became closer to Qinsang.

Qinsang looked around and pointed to the last row of houses, saying, "Can I choose a room to live in here?"

He had a secret that could not be revealed, and he wanted to stay far from Jixin Daoist to avoid being discovered.

"Of course," Mingyue said, "Master wants me to clean all these rooms. In the past, people used to come up the mountain to borrow houses, but they gradually moved away. Now, more and more refugees are coming from the north. Master says the weather is getting colder, so we should open up the houses to shelter those without a place to stay and help them through the winter. Some temples on the mountain have already started doing this. Master says we don't seek merit, but we must do good deeds."

Qinsang chose a house in the northeast corner. Inside, it was covered in dust and spider webs.

Actually, it was three rooms connected together, separated by bamboo walls. The two inner rooms had old bamboo beds. Qinsang chose the one at the far end, where the sunset shone in through the window, and through the mountains, a stretch of the river could be faintly seen, making for a beautiful view.

...

The meal consisted of green vegetables, pickled vegetables, and cornbread. After eating, Qinsang drank the herbal medicine Mingyue had prepared for him. The two of them then went up to clean the room together, replacing the bamboo bed with new bamboo and laying out the bedding. By the time they finished, it was already late at night.

Without a clock, Qinsang didn't know what time it was. Seeing Mingyue yawn repeatedly, he urged her to go back and rest.

Mingyue, who had finally found someone to talk to, was reluctant to leave, "Brother, I'll boil some water for you to take a bath."

Qinsang performed a set of Tiger Subduing Long Fist, washed up, and listened carefully. When he heard that Jixin Daoist and Mingyue had both fallen asleep, he carefully closed the windows and doors, and under the moonlight, he took out the items he had and examined them.

He sat cross-legged on the bed, with a money bag, a seven-colored brocade pouch, a piece of sheepskin paper, a wooden sword, a Yama Banner, and a book laid out in a row.

The brocade pouch and the sheepskin paper didn't reveal anything special, so he set them aside.

Picking up the black wooden sword, Qinsang frowned, unable to figure out how this small wooden sword could transform into a flying sword.

Should I drip blood on it?

This thought had been in Qinsang's mind for a while. He steeled himself, used a bamboo stick to cut his finger, and a drop of fresh blood fell onto the black wooden sword.

Ignoring the pain in his finger, Qinsang watched the black wooden sword with anticipation. He saw the blood drop onto the sword and slide down the shiny blade.

Qinsang watched as the blood drop fell to the ground and spread out.

Qinsang was not willing to give up. He picked up the Yama Banner and tried the same method, then even tried the brocade pouch and the sheepskin paper, but none of them responded.

Qinsang cursed under his breath and picked up the book.

"The Netherworld Sutra," the first three large characters in the book. It was a thin book of about a dozen pages, with each sentence difficult to understand, and many characters he didn't recognize. Qinsang flipped through to the end and found the last two pages contained a section on the Yama Banner, but the content was equally incomprehensible.

At least this book was related to the Yama Banner.

The black-clothed man had used the Yama Banner to die with the young man, which must be a divine artifact of the immortals!

Thinking that this book might be a cultivation scripture, Qinsang's heart suddenly burned with excitement, but he also realized that even if it was a cultivation method, he had to understand it. Otherwise, if he went astray, he wouldn't even know how he died.

The prerequisite for understanding was to recognize the characters, so he really needed to settle down and study the scriptures at Qingyang Temple for a while.

This mountain temple was very quiet, with food and drink, and staying here was not a bad idea. He also needed to sort out his chaotic thoughts.

Although he had inherited the memories of Qin Sanwa, Qinsang did not have the deep emotional connection to Qin Sanwa's family. Moreover, Qin's parents must have already assumed he was dead at the hands of the bandits.

It was better not to see them; he could make up for it later if there was an opportunity.

He didn't want to return to Wangjia Village. Even if he didn't seek immortality, he didn't want to be trapped in such a place, living an ordinary life.

If he hadn't seen the flying immortal with his own eyes, Qinsang would have been like his previous life, seeking wealth, beauty, power, and fame. On the boat, he would have schemed and maneuvered, and wouldn't have gotten off so easily.

Bai Jianglan said immortals were hard to find, but this "Netherworld Sutra" gave Qinsang hope. Perhaps he really had a chance...

His thoughts were chaotic, and he didn't know when he fell asleep. He had no dreams that night. The next day, Qinsang was woken by the sound of birds, and the sky was already bright.

Qinsang quickly got up, tidied up, and went down with his crutch. Just as he reached the back door of Qingyang Hall, he heard the sound of chanting and the wooden fish inside.

He cautiously walked in and saw Jixin Daoist and Mingyue performing morning prayers at the altar. Three people had already come to seek medical help, and a layman was reciting scriptures with Jixin Daoist.

Qinsang didn't dare to disturb them and saw Mingyue glance at him, winking and gesturing for him to go to the front.

Qinsang understood and nodded to the people seeking medical help, then walked to the kitchen in the courtyard, where he found a bowl of mixed porridge left for him, still warm.

He washed his face and quickly ate the porridge, and a busy day began.

With Qinsang's help, the pressure on Jixin Daoist and his disciple was greatly reduced.

Qinsang didn't know medicine, so he sat behind the desk, helping to record and grind herbs.

The old Daoist diagnosed, prescribed, drew talismans, interpreted fortunes, and recited scriptures, showing his versatility.

Mingyue received patients and pilgrims, boiled water, dispensed medicine, and cooked, keeping very busy.

Before they knew it, it was evening. After sending the last patient away, Mingyue locked the temple door, and the three of them divided the work to clean the messy hall.

"Today is the seventh day of the month," the old Daoist said, holding the almanac and looking at it for a while before flipping through a few pages of the accounts, "I will go down the mountain tomorrow to perform two small rituals. You two stay here to take care of the temple."

He then got up and looked through the medicine cabinet, "On the ninth and tenth, I will go to Huanghuang Mountain to gather herbs. If patients come up the mountain, Mingyue can treat minor illnesses. If you're unsure, tell them to come back on the eleventh. Go and cook, and after eating, we'll do the evening prayers."

"Yes, Master."

Qinsang followed Mingyue out and saw a look of disappointment on her face. After asking, he learned that Jixin Daoist went up the mountain to gather herbs every month. This time, he was going to Huanghuang Mountain, deep in the mountains, where the terrain was dangerous and many rare herbs grew.

Besides treating patients, on auspicious days, families would invite Jixin Daoist to perform rituals. This business could make money, but it couldn't compete with the temples and monks. Generally, when performing rituals, Jixin Daoist would take Mingyue down the mountain to broaden her horizons.

Qinsang knew that Jixin Daoist still didn't fully trust him.