Chapter 125

The vendor: "You've offered me a price that leaves me at a loss—how am I supposed to sell?"

He glanced at Pan Yun, then swept his eyes over the surrounding Daoist Priests and Monks, and finally gritted his teeth: "Fine, fine, fine—take it, take it, just go."

He angrily tossed the cloth to the woman; she didn't care, counted out the exact number of copper coins, carefully folded the cloth, and placed it into her basket, then took her child's hand to leave.

She cast a glance at Pan Yun and Seeing Miao Zhen, turned, and walked in another direction, avoiding Hui Yuan.

Hui Yuan, who had been chanting sutras continuously, finally fell silent, his compassionate gaze fixed on her.

Just as she stepped away from Hui Yuan, her body swayed, then collapsed straight backward.

Pan Yun instantly stood upright; Hui Yuan, prepared, caught her falling body.

The crowd burst apart with a roar, then clustered again: "What happened? What happened? Why did she faint?"

"Could it be these Daoists and Monks are behind this?"

"Nonsense—today's a temple fair; why would Daoists and Monks play tricks here? I noticed her complexion looked off from the start. I think these young monks and the master came to warn her, but she ignored them."

The vendor immediately added: "Her face was already flushed earlier—she didn't look normal at all. Clearly, she was already ill."

Hui Yuan ignored the murmurs. After gently laying her on the ground, he pinched her Hukou, then pressed on her heart, trying to revive her.

The child in her arms tumbled to the ground, wailing loudly.

A bystander stepped forward to pick up the child and comfort him, but Li Jisi seized his hand, lifted the child, and handed him to Seeing Miao Zhen.

He crouched beside Hui Yuan, anxiously asking: "Master, can you save her?"

If she dies, all of us who spoke up may be dragged to the county magistrate's court.

How could we possibly explain this to the county magistrate?

Should we start from the moment I took a master and began training?

Hui Yuan pinched and pressed her body, but still could not wake her. Seeing Miao He watched for a moment, then whispered softly: "She needs to be bled."

Hui Yuan's forehead broke into sweat.

Pan Yun asked Seeing Miao He: "Where to bleed?"

"Fingers," Seeing Miao He glanced and said: "Bleed all ten fingers."

Pan Yun seized her hand, ready to pierce her fingers with spiritual force; Tao Ji rushed over with Tao Yan Bai: "Little sister!"

Pan Yun froze, released the woman's hand, and stood up.

Hui Yuan immediately rose to make way for him: "She collapsed fifty breaths ago; her breathing stopped ten breaths ago."

Hearing her breathing had ceased, the crowd recoiled in fear.

"If her breathing stopped, she's dead, right?"

Tao Ji glanced at her complexion, pried open her eyelids, then grabbed his needle bag and swiftly drew out several needles, jabbing them into her face in a blur—before Pan Yun could even follow, seven or eight needles were already embedded.

He pulled out a thicker needle, tore open her robe, located the spot precisely, and drove it in.

Before the onlookers could cry out against indecency, the long needle sank deep—right to its base.

The crowd gasped: "This—this—this needle's so long, it must have pierced right through her!"

"It didn't pierce through, but it came close."

Tao Ji inserted the needle, waited a moment, then pulled it up slightly, gently rotated it, and after a pause, took another thick, long needle and drove it into her left chest…

"This—this—the needle is moving on its own!"

The three needles in her chest were trembling, as if something inside was pushing them outward.

The middle-aged woman suddenly gasped, her chest heaved, her mouth slightly open, emitting a "Huh-huh-huh" moan.

Those who had cared for the elderly or critically ill knew this sound—it was an unconscious cry of unbearable suffering.

Someone nearby's eyes reddened: "She's about to die—I remember my mother-in-law made the same sound when she was dying. She cried like that for three nights, then passed."

"My father-in-law made the same sound before he died. Nothing can help—when a person reaches Huang Da Xian…"

Tao Ji ignored them. Seeing her heartbeat and breathing return, he exhaled in relief, seized her hand, drew a short, thick needle, and lightly pierced her ring finger, middle finger, and index finger—dark, purplish blood slowly oozed from the tips.

He squeezed gently, observed the blood, then pierced the three fingers of her other hand.

He took the cloth from her basket, placed it beneath her head to slightly elevate it, laid her arms flat on the ground, and only then began removing the needles from her face.

Her face was flushed purple, her lips tinged violet—but as more black blood drained from her fingertips, her moans grew fainter, her eyelids trembled, as if she were about to awaken.

Tao Ji pulled the needles from her face; slowly, she opened her eyes.

The sky was too bright, too blue—it left her momentarily dazed. For a long while, she couldn't recall what had happened.

Tao Ji glanced at her: "You're halfway there now. But afterward, be careful—avoid pride and impatience, don't anger yourself, eat light."

The middle-aged woman finally came to, her gaze locking onto Hui Yuan and Pan Yun, who were looking down at her.

She suddenly grabbed Hui Yuan's sleeve and cried: "It's you—it's you who made me fall! What did you do to me?"

Hui Yuan: …

Pan Yun instantly stepped back; Tao Ji also shuddered and retreated—suddenly, only Hui Yuan remained beside the woman.

Hui Yuan murmured a Buddha's name: "Virtuous one, you were ill. We merely noticed your condition and tried to warn you."

"Pah! I'm perfectly healthy! Don't try to deceive me!"

Tao Ji, seeing her movements grow more violent, quickly warned: "Good person, the needles in your chest haven't been removed yet—don't move, or you might displace them."

She looked down and realized her robe had been torn open—though only a sliver of her neck was exposed, it made her go dizzy, especially with the needles still trembling, looking terrifying.

Her eyes rolled back, her hand went limp, and she collapsed again; Hui Yuan, resigned, caught her and laid her back on the ground.

He turned to look at Tao Ji.

Tao Ji, wary, checked the woman—she was truly unconscious, in a half-awake state—and stepped forward to remove the three needles.

After putting the needles away, seeing she still hadn't awakened, he tapped her forehead once—she instantly opened her eyes.

The moment she woke, she grabbed Hui Yuan again: "No, you can't leave—you must explain what you did to me…"

Tao Ji spoke on Hui Yuan's behalf: "Good person, you truly are ill. Ask everyone—didn't you faint on your own? Didn't my brother and Master Hui Yuan save you?"

【61】 "You're lying! I'm perfectly healthy—how could I be ill?"

"You're sick," the onlookers couldn't help speaking for them, "your complexion clearly looked wrong—you just collapsed. This master and those young monks didn't touch you. Ask your grandson—didn't they save you?"

"Right, where's my grandson? Where did you take my grandson? Oh no, child snatchers—they're stealing children..."

The child was right between Miao and Seeing Miao Zhen, gnawing on a steamed bun. Hearing his grandmother call, he ran over and shoved the bun straight into her mouth, cheering, "Grandma eat, Grandma eat."

The middle-aged woman dodged the bun, clutched him tightly to her chest, and some of the fear on her face faded. Only then did she look up at the crowd.

Everyone was watching her—looking down on her—with varied expressions: sympathy, mockery, disgust and coldness, and even malicious glances, their eyes fixed tightly on her chest.

Sensing these chaotic stares, she brushed away Huiyuan's hand trying to help her up, rose from the ground herself, glared fiercely back at every eye fixed on her, and shouted, "What are you staring at? If you've never seen it before, go home and rip open your mother's clothes and stare all you want—did you never drink milk as a child?"

Seeing the blood on her fingertip, she casually wiped it on her clothes. Seeing the cloth pad on the ground, she gasped, "Oh no!" and hurried to pick it up. Halfway, she feared the blood would soil it, so she shook her robe and used the hem to wrap her hand before lifting the cloth and placing it in the basket.

Tao Ji pulled out a vial of medicine from his sleeve and handed it to her. "Good person, this is ointment for your finger. Sit down first, let your finger hang down so more blood can flow. Once the black blood stops, apply the medicine to stop the bleeding."

She glanced at the black blood on her finger, then looked down at the vial and said, "I don't have money for you..."

!.

Tao Ji said, "No charge."

He paused, then added, "I am a Daoist Priest of Mount Sanqing. Every year during the Sanqing Festival, we hold free medical clinics. This year, we're starting half a day early."

She blinked in surprise. "You're Daoist Priests from Mount Sanqing?"

Tao Ji nodded.

The middle-aged woman fell silent for a moment, then reached out and took the vial.

Pan Yun stepped forward and supported her, guiding her to a more open spot to sit, leaning against the stone wall.

Seeing she was no longer shouting and didn't seem like someone trying to swindle them, Tao Ji stepped closer to continue treating her wound.

The woman's gaze swept over Pan Yun, Seeing Miao Zhen, and the others. "Are you all Daoist Priests from Mount Sanqing?"

They all nodded.

The woman said nothing more, letting Tao Ji clean her finger and then prick it again.

The blood dripping down was not only black but also stank of rot. Pan Xiaohei, with his sharp sense of smell, leapt onto the high wall and moved far away from them.

Pan Yun beckoned Li Jisi over. "Now, look again at her complexion."

Li Jisi studied her for a moment. "The purple on her lips has faded, turning slightly pale. Her face is now reddish, but no longer that deep purple-red hue."

Pan Yun nodded. "Now listen to her voice. Compare the tone since she woke up to the tone before she fainted."

"Before she fainted, her voice was loud, urgent, and full of fire. Now, though her mouth opens wide, the sound is weak—clearly her vital energy is depleted."

Pan Yun nodded, giving him an approving glance. "My senior sister once told me that the Art of Observing Qi and Traditional Chinese diagnosis through observation and listening stem from the same root. Since you haven't cultivated internal energy, start with the simplest method: observing expression and tone. Once you master this, observing the Qi around her will become much easier."

Pan Yun recited the incantation of the Art of Observing Qi and taught him how to observe facial color before perceiving Qi.

She didn't know if he learned it—but as she taught him, when she looked again at the woman, she saw the Qi swirling around her, clearly visible through her complexion.

Pan Yun stared fixedly, silent.

Li Jisi asked cautiously, "Master, is her Qi very bad?"

Pan Yun looked up at him. "You're applying what you've learned—you just turned your observation skills on me."

Li Jisi bowed his head, laughing nervously. "Habit, habit. Forgive me, Master."

Pan Yun fell silent for a long while before saying, "She's not a bad person. She's a tragic one."

"If you can see that, can you help her?"

Pan Yun: "Aren't we helping her right now?"

Pan Yun stood up and walked away. "Keep watching. Observe more people. Ponder the incantation of the Art of Observing Qi. Maybe you'll suddenly understand."

Li Jisi sighed. "Is Daoist practice always like this?"

"Yes," Pan Yun said, "Daoist practice is always like this. What comes from my mouth enters your ear precisely because many things can only be understood intuitively. That's why Daoist teachings are passed orally—only external arts are transmitted through texts."

She added, "The Art of Observing Qi requires you to watch people—watch all kinds of people. Just keep watching. If you don't understand, ask me."

Li Jisi squatted by the roadside, watching passersby. He picked out those whose faces showed something unusual and asked Pan Yun about them; Pan Yun told him what their complexions meant, and what their Qi looked like...

Li Jisi listened, compared, and made some judgments—and slowly began to grasp the edge of it.

But he still hadn't broken through. Most of what he deduced from facial color was wrong, so he still needed to observe Qi.

Seeing a person's Qi allows one to infer their past and future.

Just as the two were straining to teach and learn, Wang Feiyin strolled out from the inner area. Seeing a crowd gathered here, he approached and asked, "What's the excitement?"

Tao Ji turned back, exasperated. "Big Brother, there's no excitement—just someone who collapsed."

"Who? Who collapsed?"

The woman leaning against the wall sat up straight. Seeing Wang Feiyin, tears immediately fell. She choked out, voice trembling, "Master Wang..."

Wang Feiyin froze, studied her face closely, then exclaimed, "Oh my, it's Xiao Cui! What happened to you?"

Tao Ji's mouth dropped open.

The woman reached to wipe her tears, but Wang Feiyin quickly stopped her. "Your finger's still bleeding—I'll do it, I'll do it."

He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her tears. Seeing the child beside her, he exclaimed in delight, "This is your grandson? You're a grandmother now?"

"Yes," Xiao Cui smiled, pressing the child to bow to Wang Feiyin. "This is your grandmother's benefactor—and your grandfather's benefactor. Bow now."

The child knelt on the ground and bowed to Wang Feiyin.

Wang Feiyin stopped him after one bow, lifted him up, and laughed heartily. "No need for such formality, no need!"

He asked Xiao Cui, "What illness is this? You're expelling black blood—that's excessive internal fire."

Xiao Cui lowered her head shyly. "I can't change my temper."

"If you can't change it, don't change it. Being straightforward is better than being timid. But don't hold fire inside—let it out right away. That's how you stay healthy."

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(End of Chapter)