Chapter 824: Old Friends Are Like Trees in the Courtyard

After the medicine showed clear results, especially in its excellent ability to alleviate various pains, Baifeng had the first batch of medicine sent to the Shaman, and at the same time, he personally went to visit the Shaman.

The Shaman now was truly an old man in the twilight of his years; seeing his trembling appearance, Baifeng felt he might die at any moment, and he did not know why the Shaman had aged so quickly, as age spots had now appeared and his hair had turned gray.

Coupled with his frail body, he could not bathe often, and the smell of old age on him was very heavy, but Baifeng did not despise him; seeing the Shaman sitting on the kang in the room looking somewhat listless, Baifeng still felt a bit heartbroken.

He called the Shaman's son over: "Wu Shaohe, is this how you act as a son? You are the Legitimate Son and will inherit your father's Nobility in the future, yet you just let your father lie on the kang every day without even knowing to help him go out for a walk and have a look?"

Wu Shaohe was somewhat terrified, but due to his personality and his father's demands on him, he had become increasingly unable to speak well; facing Baifeng's questioning, he only lowered his head, stammering and not knowing what to say.

The Shaman said in a somewhat weak voice at this moment: "King, my body is very poor now, so please forgive me for not being able to salute you. This is not Shaohe's fault; it is just that I do not want to go out myself. When a person gets old, they feel cold when the wind blows and too hot when the sun shines; it is uncomfortable no matter what, so it is better to just lie here in the room."

"Sigh." Baifeng did not know what the Shaman was thinking, but any person would surely be willing to go out and take a look; lying down like this, one would even have the heart to die.

"Alright, Shaman, I do not blame your son. Have someone find a chair and take you out to get some fresh air. The weather today is not bad either; the breeze is not cold and the sun is not scorching. Go out and take a look, and your mood will be a little better."

Shaohe hurriedly followed the servants to fetch a large chair, and the Shaman also agreed with Baifeng's words; after all, he truly wanted to go out, but reflecting on his life, he dared not go out, preferring to lock himself in this house, mainly because he felt he was truly about to die and there was no need to trouble his son further, so it was better to let them focus on their work.

Because of sitting and lying down for a long time, the Shaman now found it difficult even to get up; Shaohe and one of his sisters hurriedly went up to support him. The Shaman's several wives were also very old now, and two had even died before him; now there were not many left, and perhaps it would not be long before they also died.

After helping the Shaman onto the chair, two strong servants, one on each side, lifted the Shaman up. The Shaman was very thin now and did not have much weight; even the sturdy, well-made large chair was heavier than the Shaman.

They arrived under a tree in the courtyard; the leaves had mostly fallen, but there was still some shade, and the little bit of sunlight that filtered through was just warm and not blinding.

A servant brought another chair for Baifeng, and after Baifeng sat down, he said to the dozens of people watching: "Alright, you all may withdraw."

The Shaman's wives, sons, daughters, grandsons, and granddaughters all dispersed in an instant, and not even a single servant dared to remain; only two guards stood a few meters behind Baifeng. Such dismissal usually did not require their concern.

The two had nothing to say for a moment, and the Shaman started the conversation: "King, I feel that I am truly about to die. Seeing you come today, I feel much lighter."

Baifeng was also happy: "Is that so? Then you should come out and take a look and walk around more often in the future. If your mood is good, you can live longer. Eat some good food and drink less Wine; it is best not to drink it at all. I have sent you some medicinal Wine; the medicinal herbs were just found from Xiao Town, and I have already had people test it, and the effect is very good."

"Didn't you always say your legs and waist hurt? Have someone take the medicinal Wine, rub a little on the painful areas, and then massage it, and it won't hurt so much, but absolutely do not drink it."

"Thank you, King, for still remembering an old man like me who is of no use. In my life, the things I have done for Huaxia are not as many as the trouble I have caused; it is just that I recognized you earlier than others, which is why I have taken such a big advantage. Otherwise, how could I have the life I have now?"

Baifeng felt that the Shaman was becoming increasingly pessimistic, so he persuaded him: "Your contribution to Huaxia is great enough. Besides, there were so many people in the tribe back then, why did I only use you? Isn't it because I discovered you had talent?"

"As long as those who have contributed to Huaxia can no longer work when they are old, I will also let you enjoy your old age in peace. When people struggle in their youth, it is not only for their children but also for their own future, isn't it?"

The Shaman chuckled, then suddenly supported the chair with both hands: "King, I feel I should be able to stand up. I want to walk a bit myself."

Baifeng said it was good, but his hand pointed backward, and a Soldier immediately ran up with small steps, preparing to support the Shaman. The Shaman did not refuse the kindness; he stood up while holding the Soldier's arm, walked slowly forward a few steps, felt his legs had some vitality again, and then let go of the Soldier's arm and walked by himself.

He touched the tree with some emotion and knocked off a withered leaf that was about to be blown away by the wind: "King, I feel that I am just like this leaf; when the wind of death blows, I will fall too."

Baifeng stood up at this time as well. He was also a bit sad and could not help but recite a line: "Old friends are like the trees in the courtyard, withering more with each autumn wind."

He suddenly felt that his literary education from back then had formed a closure at this moment; in the past, he would only think that such a poem was written well, but now he felt some sorrow.

Perhaps the only one who could accompany him long enough in the future would be Xiong. Lian Po was old, but could he still eat? Xiong's body was still strong, and compared to the Shaman, the difference was too great.

The Shaman pondered the poem Baifeng had just recited and suddenly laughed: "King, is this written for me? I have never heard such a good poem in my life; it feels even better than what you wrote before."

Baifeng did not want to discourage the Shaman at such a time, so he accepted the Shaman's praise and did not say that he had plagiarized it.

"It is written for both of us. Perhaps others will be able to use it in the future, right? The people we are familiar with are becoming fewer and fewer, Shaman."

The Shaman also sighed with emotion: "Yes."

Baifeng wanted to take the Shaman's pulse to see his physical condition, but the Shaman refused: "King, there is no need. As I am now, everyone knows I cannot live much longer. You do not need to waste any more effort; we cannot waste our medicinal herbs to save a useless old man like me."