CH 1: Life Feels Transient All of a Sudden

Like thousands of previous days, that day was just like all the others.

Qingshui Town gradually sprang to life with the sound of human voices following the crowing of a few roosters. Lao Mu from the Rejuvenation Hall rushed to Butcher Gao's to buy mutton early. At the front, two young helpers were busy getting ready to open for business as soon as the day dawned. The physician, Wen Xiaoliu, squatted on the backyard's threshold with a bowl of mutton soup in one hand and a piece of flatbread in the other, eating noisily. Across the bluestone steps were two and a half acres of sloping pastures planted with medicinal herbs. Going down the bluestone path, in the middle of it was a narrow river. The sun was rising at this moment, and the water on the river's surface was dense with water vapor and dots of golden glow. Wildflowers abound along both sides of the riverbank, and waterfowl flew in and out, creating a poetic and picturesque ambience. These swans are quite fat, thought Xiaoliu as he observed. It'd be great to catch a couple and roast them for eating.

After finishing a bowl of hot soup, he placed the dirty bowl into the wooden bucket by the threshold, which already contained a stack of dirty bowls. Xiaoliu walked out of the courtyard with the wooden bucket and down to the river to wash the dishes. In the shrubs by the river lay a dark shadow, and it was impossible to make out what kind of bird it was. Wen Xiaoliu set the bucket down and casually picked up a rock, flinging it over. The rock hit the dark shadow, but it didn't flap or fly away.

Wen Xiaoliu was stunned. Since when did I hit everything with such precision? He took a few steps over to take a closer look, but it wasn't a bird—it was a person. Wen Xiaoliu immediately turned his head, made his way back to the shore, and started washing the dishes as if there wasn't a possible corpse a couple of feet away.

While washing the dishes, Wen Xiaoliu grumbled, "These are washed, but the next ones are still going to be dirty. If dishes are going to get dirty eventually, why bother washing them constantly? As long as one uses their own bowl to eat from and it isn't dirty, it is fine to wash it once or twice a day."

Wen Xiaoliu never folded his quilt. He reasoned that if he folded it in the morning, he'd have to unfold it again at night. What kind of moron would torture himself? He, of course, never folded his quilt. But he couldn't leave the food bowls unwashed, or else Lao Mu would smack him with a big spoon.

Xiaoliu repeatedly rinsed all the bowls and carried back a bucket of perhaps clean dishes, not even bothering to glance out of the corner of his eye at the shrubs.

The inhabitants of Qingshui Town had seen more dead people than anyone out there had ever eaten, and even the little kids had grown immune to it.

Although the Rejuvenation Hall wasn't a big medical hall, Wen Xiaoliu was good at treating female infertility. Six or seven out of ten patients who sought his treatment were successfully treated, so business at the medical hall wasn't at all bad. After a busy half-day's work, at midday, Wen Xiaoliu stepped into the backyard, jiggling and flexing his body after spending a considerable amount of time sitting.

Mazi, who was arranging medicinal herbs in the yard, pointed to the door. "There came a beggar, and I threw him a half-piece of flatbread."

Xiaoliu nodded, saying nothing. The kitchen was fired up only twice a day, in the morning and in the evening, and there was no hot soup served at noon. Xiaoliu took a piece of flatbread and scooped a ladle of cold water from the tank. Squatting on the threshold, he ate while gazing out over the yard.

A few paces away, there was someone lying on the ground, clothed in rags, with dirty hair obscuring their face, and covered in sludge.

Squinting, Xiaoliu could make out a trail of sun-dried soil leading from the beggar's side to the shrubs by the river. Xiaoliu arched an eyebrow, took a sip of cold water, and swallowed the dry, hard flatbread.

Glancing out of the corner of his eye and noticing the dark figure on the ground move, Xiaoliu looked over at the beggar. Mazi's aim was pretty good. The half-piece of flatbread had dropped right next to the beggar, but they didn't even seem to have the strength to reach for it and apparently never bothered to pick it up. Xiaoliu ate his flatbread while observing. After a while, having finished the flatbread, Xiaoliu wiped his mouth with his sleeve, patted his hands, threw the ladle back into the tank, hummed a little tune, and went out to pay home visits. In the evening, Xiaoliu returned, and everyone enjoyed a lively meal.

After finishing his meal, Xiaoliu wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then dabbed it on his clothes. He had intended to return to his room, but then, by some strange coincidence, he instead turned on his heel and actually walked out of the courtyard with his hands clasped behind his back. "Liu Gē, what are you doing there?" Mazi asked.

"Taking a walk to aid my digestion."

Xiaoliu went around the river, humming a little tune and pacing a bit as he returned, and came to a stop beside the beggar—the half-piece of flatbread at his feet. Xiaoliu squatted down. "I stepped on your flatbread. What do you want in compensation?"

The beggar didn't utter a word, and Xiaoliu stared up at the sky. The crescent moon hung coldly and eerily over the horizon, like a glimpse of mockery from the heavens that ridiculed the common folks of the world.

After a while, Xiaoliu reached down and picked up the beggar. It was a man, not small-framed but thin as a stick, light as a feather, not at all heavy. Xiaoliu carried him and kicked open the door into the yard. "Lao Mu, go boil some water. Mazi, Chuanzi, come and help me."

The three people, who were sitting in the courtyard giggling and boasting, were unsurprised and carried out what they had to do right away.

Xiaoliu placed the beggar on the couch, while Mazi brought warm water inside and lit the room's oil lamp. "Wash him up and feed him some hot soup," Xiaoliu instructed. "You guys take care of any injuries, if there are any."

Just as he stepped out of the door, he heard Mazi's shriek. Xiaoliu immediately went back, but saw that Mazi's face was pale, as if he had seen a ghost, and his voice was trembling as he said, "Liu Gē, you... come and have a look. I'm afraid that this person won't make it."

Xiaoliu went over and bent down to examine. The man's entire face was bruised and swollen to the size of a pig's head, and his facial features were completely unidentifiable. The big head, paired with a body that was as thin as a reed stem without a scrap of flesh, was a grotesque and horrifying thing to behold.

Xiaoliu tore off the ragged clothes, or what should be called rags, and the man's body was covered in crisscrossing injuries, whip marks, stab wounds, and burns. There was also a large patch of blackened, charred skin on the chest, clearly a branding iron mark. Because there was no flesh on his body, his ribs were clearly visible, and the charred skin hung loosely over them.

Xiaoliu picked up his arm. His fingernails had all been plucked out and soaked in water, leaving them swollen and bloodied. Xiaoliu gently lowered his arm and examined his legs. His right calf bone had been shattered, and all ten of his toenails had also been plucked out. The soles of his feet bore several bloody punctures, clearly caused by long nails. Despite the fact that Mazi and Chuanzi were used to seeing the wounded, a chill nevertheless ran down their spines. They couldn't help but take a couple of steps back and glance away, not even daring to look. Wen Xiaoliu, however, was very indifferent and calmly instructed, "Prepare the potion."

Mazi came back to his senses and immediately dashed off to fetch the Water of Herbal Ao. Despite his desire to proclaim, "I'll clean the wounds", he lacked the confidence to confront them. Xiaoliu appeared to know he couldn't count on them either. Without uttering a word, he took it upon himself to wipe the man's body carefully with a clean, soft cloth dipped in the potion. The man awakened from his unconsciousness, presumably due to his wounds' excruciating pain. Because of the wound on his eyelids, he was unable to open his eyes, so only his lips were tightly pursed.

"My name is Wen Xiaoliu," Xiaoliu said gently. "You can call me Xiaoliu. I'm a junior physician, and I'm helping you clean your wounds. Just scream if it hurts."

However, after Xiaoliu finished wiping his upper body, he didn't make a sound at all; only his forehead and temples were covered with beads of sweat. Perhaps because of his silent stoicism, Xiaoliu's heart was truly softened with a sense of respect. He gently dabbed the sweat off his forehead and temples with a handkerchief. The man's body shuddered slightly as Xiaoliu started to pull down his pants. It was an abomination that hurt him to the marrow of his bones, but he managed to keep a tight rein on it.

"You're a man, and you're scared of someone taking your pants off?" Xiaoliu jokingly said, trying to get him to relax a bit. Upon removing his pants, Xiaoliu fell silent.

The outer thighs up to the hip and waist were also covered with all kinds of wounds, but they were nothing in comparison to the torture on the inner thighs. The skin on the man's inner thighs had been butchered.

From the knees to the roots of the thighs, as the wounds were both new or old, dark or light in color, they looked like a piece of rag with patches, which was very striking. The torturer knew the limits of the human body very well and knew that the region between the legs was the most tender and sensitive part. He would suffer every time a piece of his skin was sliced, but it wouldn't end his life. "Strong wine, candles, scissors, bone-scrapers, splints, bandages, ointments..." ordered Xiaoliu.

Chuanzi rushed back and forth, with Mazi assisting, while his gaze tried to avoid the man's body as much as possible.

Xiaoliu frowned at the various kinds of ointments that Chuanzi had brought. "Go to my room and get the jars of medicine tucked away at the bottom of the clothes chest."

Chuanzi's eyes flashed with reluctance, and he hesitated for a moment before turning around to get them.

Xiaoliu's gestures grew gentler and gentler as he concentrated on cleansing the wounds, but even more meticulous. After all, they were wounds of every description. Some of the decaying tissue had to be scraped off, some of the dead skin had to be removed, and the calf bones had to be properly straightened.

Xiaoliu could feel the man's body trembling from the intense pain, but he kept his eyes closed, bit his lips tightly, and stoically held back in silence. He was nàkéd, disfigured, and covered in humiliating wounds, yet his bearing remained noble, cold, and inviolable.

Xiaoliu could well imagine that he was likely like this while being tortured. The person being humiliated actually had more dignity than the person who carried out the humiliation, so the torturer must be filled with frustration. Perhaps because of this, they grew increasingly ruthless. Only two or three hours later did Xiaoliu finish cleaning all the wounds, and he was also sweating profusely, muttering wearily, "Trauma medication."

A refreshing fragrance wafted out when Mazi opened a glazed bottle. Xiaoliu scooped out the golden cream with his fingers and applied it little by little, starting with the man's face.

The ice-cold ointment helped ease the man's pain, and his lips relaxed somewhat, revealing some blood on them. Xiaoliu dipped his finger into some of the ointment and dabbed it over his lips. The man abruptly shut his mouth, and Xiaoliu's finger was wedged inside. It was the only suppleness Xiaoliu had ever felt on him tonight—that slight moistness and softness between his lips and tongue.

While Xiaoliu was stunned, the man had already parted his lips. Xiaoliu withdrew his finger, gently lifted his arm, and applied the medicine little by little.

It took an additional hour for the man to be fully medicated and his wounds bandaged.

"I'm going to have to keep an eye on your wounds in the next few days, so I won't clothe you for now," Wen Xiaoliu said, covering him with a clean quilt. "Don't worry, there aren't any women in this entire yard. Nobody will hold you accountable to marry her even if you unintentionally walk out nàkéd."

Both Mazi and Chuanzi chuckled. Wen Xiaoliu started talking about the prescription. "Six qián for Tuckahoe, four qián for Yerbadetajo Herb..." Mazi focused on memorizing it and hurried off to fetch the required herbs.

Wen Xiaoliu gazed up at the sky's hue and reckoned that he could sleep for another two hours. Looking down at the man's dirty hair, he frowned and called on Chuanzi. "Handkerchief, hot water, water basin, and wooden bucket." Xiaoliu sat at the couch's head with an empty basin at his feet. He scooped up the man's head, placed it in his lap, and proceeded to wash his hair.

"Liu Gē, you have to go out and see patients tomorrow," Chuanzi said apologetically. "Go to bed. I've got this."

Xiaoliu scoffed. "With your heavy-handedness? I'm afraid you'll make a mess of the wounds I've worked so hard to clean up and that my entire night's hard work will be for naught. Just change the water." Xiaoliu's gestures were exceptionally gentle. He lathered the soap pod between his palms before rubbing it through the man's hair little by little. After giving the scalp a thorough massage, he ladled some warm water and ran it along the hair roots, carefully rinsing. After all the sludge and blood stains had been washed away, he took the scissors and looked closely, cutting off the bad hair.

He ran his fingers through his hair after washing it, keeping his head lowered to check. Sensing the man's body stiffening up, Xiaoliu explained, "I'm checking to see if you have any head injuries."

It was unfortunate, but fortunately those who carried out the cruel torture spared the man's head from a brutal blow in order to let him suffer all of the excruciating pain without the slightest relief.

Xiaoliu dared not apply force, and it took several handkerchief changes for him to dry the man's hair. Fearing that the comb would tug at his wounds and cause pain, Xiaoliu spread his five fingers and used them as a big comb to smooth out his hair a little, then asked Chuanzi to bring a clean pillow and lay his head back on the couch.

It was already dawn when Xiaoliu stepped out of the room and washed his face with cold water. While eating breakfast, he instructed Mazi, who was decocting medicine under the window, "Don't worry about the shop for a few days, and just take care of him. Don't give him any flatbreads yet, but prepare some well-stewed mincemeat broth with some greens and feed it to him. Oh, and make sure to wait until the broth is cool before feeding it to him." Xiaoliu finished his meal, picked up his medicine chest, and headed out to make house calls.

"Beggar, Liu Gē has spent the entire night saving you, but he used up all of his own life-saving medicines on you," said Mazi to the person on the couch through the window. "You must fight to stay alive."

When Xiaoliu returned in the afternoon, he was sleepy and tired and struggled to keep his eyes open. He threw a wild duck on the ground, went to the stove, ladled a bowl of hot soup, tore up the flatbread, and dipped it in. Sitting behind the stovetop, he ate loudly. As he kneaded the dough, Lao Mu said, "I heard from Mazi about that person's injuries."

Wen Xiaoliu slurped on his soup. "Mm."

"Mazi and Chuanzi can't tell, but you should be able to tell that he's a divinity, and by no means a lowly divinity like you and me."

Wen Xiaoliu slurped on his soup without saying anything.

"Killing someone is just the same as forcing them to kowtow in submission. There's always a reason behind such injuries. Saving someone who shouldn't be saved is like seeking one's own death."

"You clean up that duck," Xiaoliu said as he chewed. "Roast to perfection over a small flame with a little salt and no additional seasonings."

Lao Mu gave him a quick glance and sighed inwardly when he saw the nonchalant expression on his face. "Got it."

After finishing his meal, Xiaoliu went to ask Mazi, "Did he eat today?"

"He probably has a serious injury to his throat as well," Mazi replied quietly. "I was unable to feed him the medicine, and he couldn't even swallow the meat broth."

Xiaoliu walked into the room and stared at the cold bowl of medicine on the table. He took the beggar in his arms. "I'm back. Can you hear my voice? I'm Xiaoliu. Let's take the medicine." The man opened his eyes and looked at him. He was slightly better than yesterday and could somewhat open his eyes.

Xiaoliu fed him the medicine. He forced himself to swallow, but as if feeding a toddler, almost all of it trickled out of the corner of his mouth, and the man closed his eyes.

"Did they subject your throat to torture, too?" Xiaoliu asked softly.

The man nodded subtly.

"I'll let you in on a little secret," Xiaoliu said. "I still drool in my sleep. Once I dreamt of eating roast chicken, and half my pillow got wet, and there's no cure for this. This is only a temporary condition for you. Under my care as the most highly skilled physician, I guarantee you'll recover in a matter of days." Xiaoliu climbed onto the couch's inner side and half-cradled the man in his arms. He then scooped up a little half-spoonful of the decoction and slowly dripped it into the man's mouth, like drops of beads.

The man cooperated with him by forcefully swallowing, and surprisingly, he actually drank it without spilling a drop. One was feeding little by little, while the other was swallowing little by little. It took the man more than an hour to finish the one bowl of medicine, but Xiaoliu actually made him drink the entire thing.

The man looked as if he had run for dozens of lǐ, was sweating profusely, and was utterly worn out. Xiaoliu dabbed away his sweat with a handkerchief. "Take a rest for a while first. We'll have some more duck soup once it's ready."

When Xiaoliu came out with the empty bowl, Mazi, Chuanzi, and Lao Mu stood in a row, all staring at him as if he were some sort of evil spirit. Xiaoliu glared and asked, "What are you looking at?"

"You're even more careful than caring for a newborn," Chuanzi replied. "Those who don't know will mistake you for his mother."

"Screw you! You're his mother!" Xiaoliu landed a flying kick on Chuanzi's buttocks.

Chuanzi covered his buttocks and fled in a puff of smoke. Mazi and Lao Mu's expressions reverted to normal. Lao Mu said, "It's still Xiaoliu, not someone else posing as him." Mazi patted his chest, indicating that he was finally relieved.

"Go shut the door," Xiaoliu said to Mazi, yawning. "I won't be seeing any more patients today. I'll take a nap first. Call me when the duck soup is ready."

Mazi originally wanted to say, "I can feed him", but after reflecting on the scene of medicine feeding just now, he pondered for a while and thought that it would actually be even more meticulous than embroidering.

Once the duck soup was ready, Mazi went to knock on Xiaoliu's door. Xiaoliu came out, stretching his back lazily, and entered the man's room. As with the feeding of medicine just now, it took more than an hour to get the man to drink half a bowl of minced duck soup.

After letting the man rest for an hour, Xiaoliu applied ointment to his hands and prepared to massage the man's acupoints. "You, umm... have been... for a long time, and some of your muscles have atrophied. It's very painful, but this form of stimulation will help with your recovery." The man closed his eyes and gave a slight nod.

Xiaoliu cracked a smile. Having endured all that torture, these pains were indeed nothing. Nevertheless, he made every effort to distract his mind while talking and massaging. "On my way to make house calls today, I passed by a house with white walls and black tiles. A wisteria vine thicker than my arm crept up in front of it—purplish blue, purplish blue. It blooms all over the wall, and when the wind blows, those wisteria flowers fall like rain. I found myself lost in thoughts as I watched, wondering how this family could be so careless. How tasty are the steamed flatbreads made from wisteria flowers, and why do they let them fall to the ground..."

Outside the room, Mazi muttered to Chuanzi, "I don't think Liu Gē is going to let me take care of the beggar anymore." The beggar's body was so marred and fragile—shockingly hideous—that he really didn't want to touch it again.

As Mazi had expected, Xiaoliu no longer asked him to take care of the beggar. From feeding medicine and food to applying medicinal ointment to the body, Xiaoliu did everything himself.

After a month, the beggar's throat finally healed, and he began to be able to swallow on his own, but by then, everything had become routine. Every day when the medication and food were fed, Mazi still had the habit of standing in the courtyard holding a bowl and shouting, "Liu Gē—" towards the front hall. Xiaoliu always dismissed his patients as quickly as possible and hurried back to the rear yard.

Over the course of six months, the man gradually recovered from the injuries he had sustained. His fingernails and toenails hadn't fully grown yet, but contact with water was no longer a concern. Therefore, instead of scrubbing his body, Xiaoliu prepared the tub so that he could take proper baths.

The man was still very light after being attentively cared for by Xiaoliu for six months, though not as emaciated as he was at the start. "Eat some more," Xiaoliu muttered as he scooped him up. "All that rubs against me are skin and bones."

The man had his eyes closed, and he said nothing. He'd always been this way. Every time Xiaoliu touched him, he would always keep his eyes shut and his lips pursed tight.

Xiaoliu understood that, as a result of all the physical torture he endured, he had instinctively developed a repulsion for physical contact. Each time, he was striving to keep himself under control.

"Bathe yourself," Xiaoliu said softly and expressively, putting the sackcloth in his hand next to him. "Don't scrub too hard because your fingers aren't fully healed yet."

Xiaoliu sat on the side, snacking and keeping him company.

Perhaps because each of the hideous scars on his body was a mark of humiliation, the man kept his head half-tilted back and closed his eyes indifferently, without looking at his own body. He simply grabbed the sackcloth and scrubbed his body, from his neck to his chest, then slowly down to his abdomen and gradually between his legs.

Xiaoliu's gaze kept following his hand movements, but as he observed, he suddenly looked away and gnawed heartily on the duck neck, making a "click-clack" sound.

The man opened his eyes and gazed at Xiaoliu. Xiaoliu was illuminated by the sunlight streaming in through the window. His cheeks flushed in the sunlight, crystal clear and translucent, like exquisite jade with a hint of pale crimson.

Xiaoliu waited for the man to finish bathing before carrying him out. As his legs were still healing, it was usually Xiaoliu who helped him put on his robes. Today, though, Xiaoliu laid him on the couch and promptly loosened his hold.

The man lowered his gaze, one hand resting on the couch to support his body while the other clutching his bathrobe around the waist. His fingers were thin and appeared to be very long, with newly grown pinkish-white fingernails.

Xiaoliu lowered his head and placed his clothes next to his hand. "Well, um... try putting them on yourself. If you're unable to do so, then call me back."

Xiaoliu hurried out and stood outside the door for a while, keeping an ear out for any rustling. He only left once everything appeared to be fine.

Chuanzi was sorting medicinal herbs when he spotted Xiaoliu and asked, "I haven't heard him speak for the past six months. He's not an imbecile, is he?"

Mazi threw Chuanzi a big slap. "Don't talk nonsense!" The fact that he managed to survive such brutal torture was already highly admirable. With such fortitude, there was no way he was an imbecile.

"Is his throat so severely injured that he can no longer speak?" Mazi asked in a low voice.

"I've examined his throat, and there is some damage," Xiaoliu replied. "The sound of his voice will change, but he should be able to speak."

"That's good," Mazi said gladly.

"As for his injuries, whether you've seen them or not, they're not to be brought up ever again," Xiaoliu added.

Chuanzi raised his hand. "I dared not even look at him. I barely saw anything."

"Don't worry," Mazi assured him. "Lao Mu has reminded me already. I have a poor memory. Even my own affairs are foggy, not to mention those of others."

The door was slowly pulled open, and the man stepped out, limping and staggering, holding on to the wall.

It used to be that when the sun was about to set, Xiaoliu would carry him outside so that he could breathe fresh air and bask in the sunlight. This was the first time he had ever gone into the yard during the day. He leaned against the wall, tilting his head back and gazing at the vast blue sky and white clouds in silence.

Both Mazi and Chuanzi stared at the man in awe. Because the horrific injuries on his body had left them with a very unpleasant experience, they would always subconsciously avoid looking at him. Chuanzi never even stepped foot inside his room.

For the first time, they actually got a good look at him. He had long, ink-black brows, bright eyes, a straight nose, and thin lips. Though he was clad in simple hemp clothing, he carried himself with a noble demeanor and elegant poise. Mazi and Chuanzi were instantly ashamed of themselves but couldn't help being awestruck. "If your feet don't hurt too bad, try to move around as much as you can, and you should be able to leave in two or three months," Xiaoliu said, twisting the licorice root.

The man lowered his head and fixed his gaze on Xiaoliu. "I... have nowhere... to go." He probably hadn't spoken in years. His voice sounded raspy, and his enunciation was very unclear. "Nowhere to go, really?" Xiaoliu asked, sitting with his legs crossed and nibbling on licorice root.

The man nodded.

"What's your name?" asked Xiaoliu.

The man shook his head.

"Don't know? Don't remember? Don't want to tell me?"

"You... saved me. I... am... your servant. Give me a name."

Xiaoliu spat out the licorice root residue. "You don't strike me as someone who lives under the thumb of others and listens to orders. I don't want you."

The man lowered his gaze. "I'll... listen... to you."

Xiaoliu slipped a small piece of licorice root between his lips and asked, ominously, "Will you listen to me too if you eventually bump into someone who knows you?"

The man pursed his lips, his frail fingers gripping the windowsill so firmly that they turned pale, and he said nothing for a while.

Xiaoliu was about to laugh when the man raised his gaze and stared at him. "I'll listen!" The clear, glossy black pupils glowed like two balls of flame, seeking to engrave the word "listen" into the bottom of Xiaoliu's heart. Xiaoliu was baffled for a moment and responded, "Stay, then."

The corners of the man's lips were pursed, seemingly trying to smile, but it was hard to tell. Xiaoliu tossed him a piece of licorice root. "Go sit off to the side and chew it up."

The man obediently sat down on the stone steps to one side and slowly tore the licorice root, breaking off a small piece of it and slipping it into his mouth.

Despite the fact that he was also chewing on licorice root, his demeanor was so elegant and noble that one would have thought he was eating the spiritual fruit of the sacred mountain instead of licorice root. "Ai, that beggar... This is licorice root. It's good for the throat."

"Liu Gē, give him a name," Mazi said to Xiaoliu, scratching his head. "We can no longer call him 'Beggar'."

"Let's just call him Gancao (licorice root)," Xiaoliu suggested.

"No way!" Mazi and Chuanzi both objected. "Come up with something better than our names."

Each one received a slap from Xiaoliu. "What's so bad about our names?"

"Our names suit us just fine, but that name... doesn't suit him," Chuanzi said sincerely, and Mazi nodded in agreement.

Xiaoliu blinked and looked at the beggar sitting on the stone steps. He poked his head in front of Chuanzi and Mazi's, pointed to his own nose, and asked in disbelief, in a hushed voice, "Am I inferior to him?"

"Does Liu Gē want to hear the truth or a lie?" Chuanzi cautiously asked.

"Liu Gē, some people are born as clouds in the sky, while others are born as mud on the ground. There's nothing to compare," Mazi comforted. "Let's just stick to our part as mud on the ground."

Xiaoliu became enraged. "I'm going to name him Dishang Ni (mud on the ground)."

"No way!" exclaimed Mazi and Chuanzi in unison.

"Liu Gē, well, at least come up with another one," Mazi implored so that the beggar wouldn't hold the name against him.

Chuanzi added, "Yeah, yeah, come up with a new one, one that sounds as good as Liu Gē's name."

Only then did Xiaoliu cheer up, casually pick out an herb from the bamboo mat on which the medicinal herbs were drying in the sun, and toss it to Mazi. "Count. Just name him after whatever number of leaves there are."

"One, two, three... seventeen leaves."

Xiaoliu turned his head and exclaimed, "Beggar, from now on, your name is Ye Shiqi (leaf seventeen)."

Ye Shiqi nodded. Mazi and Chuanzi mulled it over and concluded that it wasn't too bad. They both greeted Shiqi with a smile as well.

Lao Mu called out from the front hall, "Xiaoliu, there's a patient."

Xiaoliu kicked Mazi and Chuanzi each in the buttocks, hummed a little tune, and dashed out to see the patient.

Another six months or so had passed. Shiqi's injuries that could be healed were deemed fully healed, while the ones that couldn't were truly beyond healing. Although his calf's fractured bones were put back together, it was too late for him to be cured after all. He inevitably limped a little when he walked, and as to how well the other unknown injuries had actually healed, even Xiaoliu wasn't quite sure. Shiqi no longer allowed Xiaoliu to help him change his bandages ever since he was able to move his arms and legs.

Mazi sneakily slipped Shiqi his savings. "As you can see here in our Rejuvenation Hall... hehe... Liu Gē's medical skills aren't all that great... hehe... Have you heard of the Flame Emperor of the Shennong clan's medical skills? Hehe... go to the east end of town, where you'll find a medical hall called the Hundred Herbs Hall. The medicine man there is a disciple of Shennong's Flame Emperor's disciple, who is one of the successors to generation after generation of disciples. His medical skills are exceptional, so he might be able to cure your leg." Shiqi handed the money back to Mazi in silence.

Mazi was anxious. "Oh, come on! Take your time to pay back the money. Your leg is a big deal. If the worst comes to worst, you have to pay me back twice as much in the future."

"I'm fine... like this," Shiqi said, lowering his gaze.

"What's fine about this? Do you want to be a cripple forever?"

"He... doesn't mind."

"Ah? Who doesn't mind?" Mazi scratched his head. "Oh! You're saying it's fine as long as Liu Gē doesn't mind? What's the point if he doesn't mind? Look at how slothful Liu Gē is. The bowl used for the first meal can be used for the next one, and his clothes are as good as rags..."

Shiqi cast a glance behind Mazi, who was still trying to persuade Shiqi further. A smack to his head scared Mazi into shutting up immediately.

Xiaoliu's head popped up, and he snatched the money pouch from Mazi's hand. "Eh, this is quite a lot of money! We can have a drink tonight!"

Wide-eyed at the sight of money, Xiaoliu couldn't be bothered to ask Mazi what he was sneaking around for. Grabbing the money pouch, he dashed out as Mazi wailed and chased after him. "Don't, Liu Gē, that's the money I've saved to marry a wife... to be put to appropriate uses..." Everyone enjoyed a lavish meal and a lot of wine in the evening. Xiaoliu and Chuanzi couldn't afford to not eat and gorged themselves happily; Mazi ate more than he could in order to lose less, and he ate with inconsolable grief; Lao Mu was drinking while staring at Shiqi.

By the end of the meal, Xiaoliu, Chuanzi, and Mazi were all drunk. It was Xiaoliu's turn to do the dishes today. However, somehow, the Rejuvenation Hall's rules had changed out of nowhere to the effect that Shiqi's chores were Shiqi's, and Xiaoliu's chores were likewise Shiqi's. Shiqi cleared away the bowls and chopsticks, filled a large wooden basin with water, squatted in the yard, and started washing them. "Who are you?" asked Lao Mu, standing behind him.

In the evening breeze, an unclear, raspy voice replied, "I am... Ye Shiqi."

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