Chapter 717

Wang Feiyin took their pulses, while Seeing Miao Zhen brought up a pot of porridge and a basin of buns.

"No serious issues," Wang Feiyin smiled. "Eat well, sleep well, take two more doses of medicine, stop worrying, and you'll recover."

Wang the Elder withdrew his hand, took the porridge Pan Yun handed him, but held it in his hands without drinking: "Xiaojing—how is he?"

Wang Feiyin looked at Pan Yun.

Pan Yun said: "He's fine, he just misses you."

Wang the Elder sighed: "Xiaoyun, help me send Xiaomei to him. Let him go—go as far away as possible. Don't think of us anymore."

Pan Yun said: "The county magistrate has pardoned you. As long as they surrender, everyone will be fine."

Wang the Elder didn't believe it: "If they're truly fine, why are you hiding us here? Is the magistrate using us to pressure Xiaojing?"

"Yes," Pan Yun said. "So you must live well. If you die, Cai Cheng loses his leverage over Xiaojing—but Xiaojing will no longer be restrained. Then, if he rises in rebellion, not only will he not survive, but the villagers of Fen Shui Village will all be slaughtered with him."

The Wang family turned pale with fear; Wang the Elder's sorrow vanished instantly, and he quickly bowed his head to drink the porridge: "We'll live. We'll live."

Wang Feiyin coughed lightly, giving her a warning glance to stop scaring them.

Pan Yun huffed softly and stopped frightening them.

The Wang family's will to die had completely dissolved; all they wanted now was to eat and sleep, and they no longer mentioned sending Xiaomei to Xiaojing.

They had just finished breakfast when the front courtyard grew noisy.

Tao Yanbai went out to look, then returned: "Master, Junior Uncle—the masters from all the Daoist temples and Buddhist monasteries have arrived, and many villagers are waiting outside for free medical treatment."

The free medical clinic had been arranged these past two days; Wang Feiyin had already spoken with the masters from the Daoist temples and Buddhist monasteries.

Because the Wu Lin Alliance had delivered increasing quantities of herbs, beyond the preventive medicine, they could now prepare targeted treatments.

That's why Wang Feiyin had enlisted the help of city physicians and the masters from the Daoist temples and Buddhist monasteries.

But he had not yet made it public—he feared that if he announced it too soon, people would flood here and spread the illness further. Better to draw them in gradually through word of mouth and announcements in three villages per day.

By spacing out the influx over time, they could avoid needing to divert manpower to manage crowds.

There's no one to spare~~

But Wang Feiyin and Pan Yun had underestimated the authority of the Three Pure Ones Temple in the hearts of the people of Yushan County.

In just half a day, the news that the Three Pure Ones Temple would hold a free clinic in the city flew from the city walls to distant places; residents of the city and villagers from the suburbs all packed their families and rushed toward the county seat.

The city guard commander was startled; he tightened inspections of incoming civilians while sending someone to seek Cai Cheng's advice.

During this period, to relieve famine and stabilize the people, Yushan County had begun allowing people to enter and exit freely.

But after the grain arrived, Pan Yun preferred to have village heads from each li come to collect it, or to deliver and distribute it directly to each village and li, so the number of entrants remained controllable.

Such a sudden flood of people entering the city had only happened during the first two days of famine relief.

The soldier sent to the county office soon ran back to report: "General, Secretary Wu says County Magistrate Cai is ill."

The commander frowned sharply: "Ill? Now?"

The soldier exclaimed indignantly: "He's not ill—he's drunk! I heard him ranting in the back courtyard, chasing a rooster, calling it 'my beauty,' trying to kiss it—the rooster even flew onto the wall!"

The commander: …

Another soldier still waited for orders: "General, should we let these people in? Over a hundred and thirty have already entered today. If we let these in too, we'll have over three hundred—and more are still coming."

He gathered his composure, suppressing his temper: "Are Master Wang and Daoist Pan really holding a free clinic?"

"Yes. This morning, the masters from all Daoist temples and Buddhist monasteries entered the city. When I left the county office, I peeked into the Free Clinic courtyard—it's already started, and there's already a long line."

Since Wang Feiyin moved into that courtyard, he had been holding free clinics, so everyone called it the Free Clinic.

The commander peered at the queue of civilians below the city wall, then rubbed his temples and waved: "Let them in if they pass inspection."

Soon, they found people with problems.

Eight armed bodyguards disguised among the civilians trying to enter.

The commander descended the wall to examine them: tall, broad-shouldered, ruddy-complexioned, their thin cotton clothes revealing strong muscle and bone beneath, plus the swords they carried—any soldier with eyes wouldn't mistake them for refugees seeking relief rations!

The commander knew what he was dealing with, stepped forward, and asked directly: "Where are you fellows from?"

The bodyguards glanced around, watching Qian Qianyi in patched clothes and Lu Yuan limping into the city, swallowed by a crowd of villagers.

He muttered: "... Jingcheng."

The commander extended his hand: "Travel permits, official seals, or official orders."

The bodyguards silently produced their orders and seals.

The commander examined them carefully, confirmed they were genuine, returned them, and asked: "You're with the Imperial Envoy—where is the Envoy himself?"

The bodyguards kept their faces calm: "The Envoy is still on the road. We're the advance party sent to make arrangements."

The commander didn't doubt it.

An Imperial Envoy? Of course he'd send men ahead to arrange lodging, meals, and notify the local magistrate.

But then, what the Envoy saw wouldn't necessarily be the truth.

It seemed this Qian Qianyi was not what he was rumored to be—not as upright and incorruptible as people claimed.

The commander waved them through and kindly pointed toward the county office: "The county office is over there."

He smirked, wondering whether Cai Cheng had sobered up—if not, when the Envoy arrived, would these bodyguards report the truth?

The eight armed bodyguards entered the city smoothly; by then, Qian Qianyi and Lu Yuan had long vanished.

They blended into a crowd of ragged people, most barefoot, clothes torn, faces yellow and emaciated.

Qian Qianyi supported Lu Yuan, who limped painfully, and asked: "Do you know where there's food?"

An old man stopped, squinting at Qian Qianyi: "You're not from here, are you? Looking for a way to survive?"

Qian Qianyi nodded vigorously: "Yes, I'm from Hangzhou. I'm looking for a way to survive."

"Then you've come to the right place," the old man said, leading him forward. "There's a way to survive just ahead."

Seeing him still supporting the limping man, the old man asked: "Is this your younger brother?"

"Yes. He hurt himself on the road," Qian Qianyi said, pinching Lu Yuan's thigh hard—Lu Yuan's limp grew worse.

The old man sighed: "You've got it hard too—I heard Suzhou was worse, with the gale sweeping people right up into the sky."

"Yes, one big storm and rain, and everything was gone," Yu Qian asked: "Does your local government distribute relief grain here?"

"Government?" the old man snorted: "The government's grain isn't enough to boil a single pot of rice gruel—we got the grain seized from the landlords. Yushan County is being sustained by the Three Pure Ones Temple. May the Mountain God protect us." (End of chapter)