Chapter 125: Reading Faces

Vendor: "You've set a price that leaves me at a loss—how am I supposed to sell it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

The crowd burst apart, then surged back together: "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 cast spells here? I noticed her complexion was off from the start. I think these young monks and the master came to warn her, but she ignored them."

The vendor immediately added: "She was already flushed before—clearly not normal. She's been ill for a while."

Hui Yuan ignored the murmurs. After gently laying her on the ground, he pinched her tiger's mouth, pressed on her heart, trying to revive her.

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

A grown man in the crowd moved to pick him up and comfort him, but Li Jisi seized his wrist, took the child, and handed him to Miao Zhen and Miao He.

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

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

How would we explain this to the county magistrate?

Should we start from when I took up martial arts?

Hui Yuan pinched and pressed her body, but still couldn't wake her. After watching for a while, Miao He whispered softly: "She needs bloodletting."

Hui Yuan's forehead broke into sweat.

Pan Yun asked Miao He: "Where to let blood?"

"Fingers," Miao He glanced and said. "Let blood from all ten fingers."

Pan Yun seized her hand, ready to use spiritual power to pierce her fingertips and draw blood, when Tao Ji and Tao Yanbai rushed over: "Little sister!"

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

Hui Yuan immediately rose to make way for him, saying: "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 studied her complexion, pried open her eyelids, then grabbed his needle bag and swiftly drew several needles, jabbing them into her face so fast Pan Yun couldn't follow—soon seven or eight needles were embedded there.

He picked out a thicker needle, tore open her collar, located the spot, and plunged it in.

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

The crowd gasped: "This—this—this needle's so long, won't it pierce right through her?"

"It won't pierce through, but it's close enough."

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

"This—this—the needle's moving on its own!"

The three needles in her chest trembled, pulsing as if something inside pushed them outward.

The middle-aged woman suddenly gasped, her chest heaving, lips slightly parted, emitting a hoarse "Huh… huh… huh…"

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

Someone nearby's eyes reddened: "She's about to die—I saw my mother-in-law cry like this before she passed. She cried for three nights, then she was gone."

"My father-in-law made the same sound before death. No treatment helps—when one's time comes…"

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.

Then he pulled the cloth from her basket, placed it under her head to slightly elevate it, laid her arms flat on the ground, and began removing the needles from her face.

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

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

The sunlight was too bright, the sky too blue—it left her dazed. For a long while, she didn't understand what had happened.

Tao Ji glanced at her: "You're halfway there now. But afterward, be careful—avoid pride and agitation, suppress anger, eat light."

The 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, shouting: "It's you—you made me fall! What did you do to me?"

Hui Yuan: …

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

Hui Yuan murmured a Buddhist chant: "Madam, you were ill. We merely noticed and tried to warn you."

"Pah! I'm perfectly healthy—don't try to deceive me."

Tao Ji, seeing her movements grow wild, warned: "Good woman, the needles in your chest haven't been removed yet. Don't move—risk of displacement."

She looked down and realized her collar had been torn open, revealing just the top of her neck—but it made her go dizzy, especially with the needles trembling visibly, terrifying to behold.

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 watched the woman carefully, confirmed she was truly unconscious, in a half-awake state, then stepped forward and pulled out the three needles.

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

She immediately grabbed Hui Yuan again: "No—you can't leave. You must explain what you did to me…"

Tao Ji spoke for Hui Yuan: "Good woman, you are truly ill. Ask everyone—didn't you faint on your own? Didn't I and Master Hui Yuan save you?"

"Don't lie to me—I'm perfectly healthy! How could I be ill?"

"You are ill," the onlookers couldn't help speaking up. "Your complexion was clearly abnormal—you collapsed outright. None of these monks or Daoists touched you. Ask your grandson—didn't they save you?"

The child stood between Miao He and Miao Zhen, gnawing on a steamed bun. Hearing his grandmother call, he ran over, shoved the bun into her mouth, and cheered: "Grandma eat, Grandma eat!"

The woman dodged the bun, pulled him tightly into her arms, and the fear on her face eased slightly. She looked up at the crowd.

Everyone watched her—looking down upon her—with varied expressions: pity, mockery, disgust, indifference, and malicious stares fixed on her chest.

Sensing these chaotic glances, she brushed away Hui Yuan's hand as he tried to help her up, rose from the ground herself, glared fiercely at every watching eye, and shouted: "What are you staring at? If you've never seen it, go home and rip open your mother's clothes—did you never get breast milk as a child?"

Seeing the blood on her fingertips, she wiped it carelessly on her clothes. Spotting the cloth on the ground, she gasped, hurried to pick it up—but halfway, feared the blood would soil it, so she shook her robe, wrapped her fingers in the hem, and lifted the cloth into her basket.

Tao Ji pulled a vial from his sleeve and handed it to her: "Good woman, this ointment is for your fingers. Sit down, let your fingers hang down, let more blood drain—when the black blood stops, apply the ointment to stop the bleeding."

She glanced at the black blood on her fingers, then looked down at the vial: "I have no money to pay you…"

!. Read

Tao Ji said: "No charge."

He paused, then added: "I am a Daoist of Mount Sanqing. Every year during the Sanqing Festival, we offer free medical aid. Today is simply half a day early."

She blinked in surprise: "You're Daoists from Mount Sanqing?"

Tao Ji nodded.

The woman fell silent, then reached out and took the vial.

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

Seeing she no longer shouted and didn't seem like someone trying to extort them, Tao Ji approached to continue treating her wounds.

The woman's gaze swept over Pan Yun, Miao Zhen, and the others: "Are you all Daoists from Mount Sanqing?"

All nodded.

The woman said nothing more, letting Tao Ji clean her fingers and prick them again.

The blood dripping out was not only black but foul-smelling. Pan Xiao, with his keen sense of smell, leapt onto the high wall and moved far away.

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

Li Jisi studied her for a moment: "Her lips' purple has faded, turning pale; her face is reddish, but no longer that deep purplish-red."

Pan Yun nodded: "Now listen to her voice—compare her voice since waking to before she fainted."

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

Pan Yun nodded, gave him a approving glance, and said: "My senior sister once told me: the art of observing qi and traditional Chinese diagnosis through facial expression and tone stem from the same root. Since you haven't cultivated internal energy, start with the simplest: observing expression and tone. Once you master that, observing the qi around a person will become far easier."

Pan Yun recited the incantation of the Qi-Observing Art to him and taught him how to progress from observing facial color to perceiving qi.

She didn't know if he learned it—but as she taught him, she herself, when looking again at the woman, now saw the aura surrounding her.

Pan Yun stared fixedly, silent.

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

Pan Yun looked up at him: "You're applying what you've learned—you've 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, then said: "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 now?"

Pan Yun stood and walked away: "Keep watching. Observe more people. Ponder the incantation—perhaps you'll suddenly understand."

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

"Yes," Pan Yun said. "It comes from my mouth, enters your ear. Because many things can only be understood intuitively, Daoist teachings are passed orally. Only external arts are recorded in texts."

She added: "The Qi-Observing Art 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 about them; Pan Yun told him what their facial colors meant, and what their auras looked like…

Li Jisi listened, compared and made some judgments, gradually grasping a hint of it.

But he still hadn't cracked it; most of what he deduced from facial expressions was wrong, so he still needed to observe qi.

By seeing a person's fortune-qi, one could infer their past and future.

Just as the two were straining their minds, one teaching and the other learning, Wang Feiyin strolled out from the inner courtyard, saw a crowd gathered here, and came over to ask, "What's going on?"

Tao Ji turned back helplessly and said, "Senior Brother, there's no excitement—someone just fell ill."

"Who? Who fell ill?"

The woman leaning against the wall immediately sat up straight, saw Wang Feiyin, and burst into tears, whimpering, "Master Wang…"

Wang Feiyin froze, studied her face closely, then said, "Oh my, it's Xiao Cui! What's wrong with you?"

Tao Ji's mouth dropped open.

The woman reached to wipe her tears, but Wang Feiyin quickly stopped her: "Your hand's still bleeding—let me, let me."

He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped away her tears; seeing the child leaning beside her, he exclaimed in delight, "Is this your grandson? You're a grandmother now?"

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

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

Wang Feiyin stopped him after one kowtow, lifted him up, and laughed heartily, "No need for such formalities, no need at all."

He asked Xiao Cui, "What illness is this? You've bled black blood—that's excessive internal heat."

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

"If you can't change it, then don't. Being straightforward is better than being timid. But don't hold your anger inside—let it out right then and there, and your body will heal."

End of chapter

(End of chapter)