Chapter 100: Experiment 2

Seeing all three so interested, Xuanmiao clapped her hands and said, “If you can properly cure these three vats of vegetables today, I’ll teach you the Daoist methods and talismans for catching demons tomorrow.”

Pan Yun perked up, “Our sect has lessons like this?”

She immediately pulled the mustard greens toward her, rolled up her sleeves, and declared, “I’ll start right now!”

Miao Zhen and Miao He also sped up.

The three worked together and finished pickling and sealing all three vats before dinner, then carried them to the kitchen and stored them.

The temperature for pickling must not be too high or too low; at this time, the kitchen is the best place.

Once the pickles are ready and the weather cools, we can move them to the cellar.

No sooner had Pan Yun placed the pickle vats than the golden progress bar in her spiritual realm began ticking forward with a ding-ding-ding.

+1 +1 +1…

Pan Yun snapped her head up and asked Pan Xiao, who had also perked up, “How much did it increase?”

It never showed the exact amount alone—you had to calculate it yourself. What had the previous number been?

Pan Xiao had paid far more attention than Pan Yun and had an unerring memory; it meowed, “Fifteen.”

Pan Yun raised an eyebrow. A slow, steady increase—exactly fifteen points. That made the source easy to trace.

“Those beggar kids?”

Miao He wiped sweat from his brow and turned. “What?”

“Nothing,” Pan Yun rolled her sleeves back down and asked, “Aren’t we making dinner now?”

In a thatched shed in Yushan County, dozens of miles from Mount Sanqing, Old Yu and fourteen children huddled together, each holding a bowl of thick porridge.

“This porridge was sent by Xiao Daozhang of Sanqing Temple on Mount Sanqing. Before every meal, thank her—she’s the one who lets you eat this bowl of porridge.”

The fourteen children all responded in unison, even the youngest, who could barely speak, babbling away.

Today’s porridge was delicious—better than any food they’d begged from the streets: clean, thick, and warm.

Pan Yun reminded them, and only then did Miao He realize how late it was and how hungry he was. “I’ll cook!”

“I’ll do it,” Miao Zhen said. “You two go pick vegetables.”

Miao He sighed. “What good vegetables are left? I haven’t eaten meat in four days. How about we boil eggs tonight?”

Miao Zhen: “Only two eggs left—one just laid this morning.”

Miao He: “We can make egg drop soup. I’ll pick some bitter hemp greens and cook them with the eggs.”

Pan Yun: “You know how to eat.”

Miao He grabbed her hand and pulled her outside. Bitter hemp greens weren’t grown in the back courtyard—they grew near the Dan Well, where they’d cleared several plots for vegetables.

As Miao He dragged Pan Yun past the mountain gate, Tao Yanbai, panting and climbing up with a bamboo basket on his back, called out, “Fifth Sister!”

Miao He spun around and shouted, “Third Brother!”

“Fifth Sister! Little Auntie!” Tao Yanbai had been away from the mountain a long time and missed home terribly; seeing them now felt like a wanderer returning home to family.

He swiftly pulled a greasy slab of five-flavored pork from behind his basket and held it high, shouting, “Look, Fifth Sister!”

“Ah—!” Miao He screamed, her eyes and heart fixed on the swaying pork. “Third Brother—!”

“Fifth Sister—!”

“Third Brother—!”

Pan Yun could take no more. She leapt between them and shouted, “Shut up!”

A foot kicked Tao Yanbai in the backside, shoving him off the path as someone stepped forward.

Pan Yun stared blankly. “Third Brother, why are you so thin and so dark?”

Tao Ji saw her expression soften slightly and nodded. “It’s a long story—I’ll tell you tonight. What’s there to eat at home?”

There was nothing to eat at home—if they had to eat, it would have to be…

Pan Yun turned to look at the fruits and vegetables offered on the altar.

She leapt into the main hall, knelt on the cushion, and respectfully apologized to the Three Pure Ones, bowed, then took two pears from the offering tray, washed them, and handed them to the two.

Tao Ji set down his basket, took a pear, and bit into it.

Tao Yanbai, full of energy despite his hunger, set down his basket and pulled out various items to share with Miao He. “I bought two slabs of five-flavored pork and a chicken, already slaughtered—we’ll stew it tonight. I also bought hair ties and two bolts of cloth…”

Miao He was thrilled. “Let’s pickle this slab of pork first—put it in a bowl, hang it in the well with a basket, and eat it tomorrow or the day after. We can cut the chicken in half and save half for tomorrow.”

Pan Yun watched Tao Yanbai refuse the pear, so she bit into her own and sat beside Tao Ji on the steps, watching them divide the goods. “Third Brother, it looks like you made a good profit this trip.”

Tao Ji: “I’d rather not have earned that money.”

Pan Yun: “Tell me, tell me—why not?”

Seeing her eager for gossip, Tao Ji’s anger and urge to vent surged. He launched into his story: “We went to treat Master Cheng’s illness, and by chance, pulled him back from the brink of death. His neighbor, a Liang family, had a child with malaria, near death—they asked me to come, so I went. I’ve traveled the world for years and seen many patients, but I’ve never met such unreasonable family members.”

“Did you save the child?”

Pan Yun began joining Tao Ji in targeting their families, asking, “Third Senior Brother, how did they mistreat you? Tell me, I’ll avenge you later.”

Pan Yun immediately joined Tao Ji in condemning the family. “Third Brother, how did they mistreat you? Tell me—I’ll get revenge for you.”

Tao Ji snorted. “Don’t brag. That family is unreasonable—even the Three Pure Ones descending from heaven couldn’t control them. Don’t even think about it.”

“I don’t believe it—unless you tell me exactly how they mistreated you.”

Tao Yanbai turned back. “Little Auntie, you don’t know—those Liang people are stingy and paranoid.”

“The child had malaria. City doctors couldn’t cure him—they told the family to prepare for the funeral. Third Uncle gave one prescription, and the child revived. Then they thought the illness wasn’t serious. They went around extorting other doctors and claimed Third Uncle’s follow-up prescriptions were too expensive, suspecting we were overcharging them for medicine.”

Tao Yanbai went on: “When we were at their house, even drinking a bowl of water made them stare twice, afraid we’d steal something.”

“If the child hadn’t looked so pitiful, we wouldn’t have bothered saving him.”

Tao Ji nodded. “The worst part was—I planned to leave the prescription and walk away, never to return. But as I stepped outside, I ran into monks from Fuyuan Temple. Those bald bastards goaded me into staying until the child fully recovered. Otherwise, I’d have been back long ago.”

Pan Yun: “Fuyuan Temple? Is that Huiyuan, that bald monk?”

Pan Yun: “Fuyuan Temple? Is that Huiyuan the bald monk?”

“…Not Huiyuan. Little Sister, don’t call Huiyuan a bald monk—he’s a cultivated master, and he once gave you gifts.”

Pan Yun spoke sternly. “No matter how cultivated he is, or how kind he’s been to me, his Fuyuan Temple monks can’t bully Third Brother.”

Tao Ji felt a small warmth inside. “It wasn’t Huiyuan—it was Huiqian and the others.”

“Huiqian? Third Brother, are you sure that’s his name? It sounds like he’s not very bright. Shouldn’t his Dharma name be something like Huishen?”

“Huishen is Huishen. Huiqian is Huiqian.”

Pan Yun suddenly understood. “I get it—he’s not very smart, so his master gave him a name that fits him?”

Tao Ji gave her an approving look.

Just as they were about to delve deeper into Fuyuan Temple gossip, Wang Feiyin asked in a quiet voice, “What are you talking about?”

Tao Ji immediately fell silent, stood, and bowed his head. “Big Brother, we weren’t saying anything.”

Wang Feiyin’s face was stern. In front of the three children, he didn’t scold Tao Ji, but glared at Pan Yun, Tao Yanbai, and Miao He. “What are you three still doing here? Is dinner ready? Are the goods put away?”

The three scattered. Tao Yanbai carried his things back to the back courtyard. Pan Yun and Miao He went to pick vegetables.

Tao Ji picked up his basket to leave, but Wang Feiyin called him back.

Wang Feiyin turned to look at Wang Cong, who stood behind him.

Wang Cong gave Tao Ji a “good luck” look, then returned to the back courtyard.

Wang Feiyin then scolded Tao Ji. “You’re old enough now—why can’t you learn? There are so many children here—don’t you know you must lead by example? How can you speak ill of others behind their backs? Especially mocking them by name?”

Tao Ji whined, “I only said ‘Huishen is Huishen, Huiqian is Huiqian.’ Everything else was Little Auntie’s words. Why don’t you scold her?”

“She’s eight years old. Are you eight too?”

Tao Ji was utterly miserable, but still apologized. “I’m wrong. I’ll change.”

Wang Feiyin grunted. “Did those Fuyuan Temple bald monks bully you?”

Wang Feiyin scolded him, “Did you learn your Wu Gong just to take abuse? Fight back! You’re a physician—you’re there to heal and save lives. Did you make a mistake by saving the dying and helping the wounded? Look at yourself—when have you ever come back from the mountain without gaining three or four catties? You and your master are the fattest and whitest on the whole mountain, yet now you’ve turned black and emaciated!”

Wang Feiyin scolded him: “Did you learn your martial arts just to take abuse? You’re a healer—you save lives. Did saving people make you wrong? Look at you—every time you go down the mountain, you come back three or four catties heavier. You and your master are the fattest on the whole mountain. Now look at you—blackened, emaciated!”

Wang Feiyin spoke with growing anger. “Huiyuan doesn’t know how to discipline his disciples. I’ll write him a letter—if he won’t rein in his brothers, I’ll go down and discipline them myself.”

“Stop nodding. When you return to the mountain, focus on your cultivation and don’t go running down the mountain for no reason,” Wang Feiyin sneered. “That gang of bald monks at Fuyuan Temple bully the weak and fear the strong—they’re taking advantage of your low cultivation base. If your cultivation were high enough, would they dare provoke you?”

“Stop nodding. This time back on the mountain, focus on your cultivation. Don’t go down again.” Wang Feiyin sneered. “Those Fuyuan Temple bald monks are bullies who pick on the weak. They’re taking advantage of your low cultivation base. If your cultivation were high enough, would they dare provoke you?”

Tao Ji bowed his head in agreement.

Miao He and Miao Zhen brought back a large amount of vegetables.

Tao Ji and Wang Cong had rolled up their sleeves and were cutting meat and chopping chicken. Tao Yanbai and Miao Zhen were helping in the kitchen.

Xuanmiao was pickling the meat. Only Wang Feiyin remained seated on the large rock by the cliff, staring blankly.

Pan Yun was unfazed. She found a stone, sat down, sorted the vegetables, and took them to wash.

With so many people, work moved quickly. Soon, the big pot was boiling—chicken stewing, meat frying, vegetables cooking.

The entire sect ate under the moonlight; the night was cold, not even a single mosquito to be found.

Pan Yun thought she’d have a perfect night—she’d eaten meat, chicken, and fruit. Aside from feeling sorry for Third Brother, everything was perfect. Then she started having diarrhea.

This familiar beginning…

Today’s lucky number ends in 1. Screenshot as proof.

(End of Chapter)