Daoist Jixin

The boat reached the dock, and Qin Sang had also heard a lot about Daoist Jixin from the old boatman.

Cuiming Mountain's Green Goat Temple was prosperous at first, but then it gradually declined. The Daoist priests in the temple left one after another, leaving only a few old Daoists who eventually died of old age.

The temple was left unrepaired and became more and more dilapidated, overgrown with weeds. If it weren't for Daoist Jixin, within a few years, Green Goat Temple would have been nothing but ruins.

What people talked about most regarding Daoist Jixin was not his status as the temple master, but his benevolent heart.

After he took over Green Goat Temple with a young disciple, he didn't seek donations. Instead, he went up the mountain daily to gather herbs and dispensed medicine to the poor.

If anyone suffered from injuries, falls, chills, or dampness, they only needed to come to the temple, and Daoist Jixin would carefully diagnose and treat them. His medical skills might not have been exceptional, but his consultation fees were very low.

If someone truly had no money, they could be given credit. However, even if they didn't repay for three to five years, he wouldn't pursue them. His reputation gradually spread, and coupled with his identity as the master of Green Goat Temple, he earned the title of Living Immortal.

The old boatman stopped the boat at the dock. While helping Qin Sang off, he advised, "Brother Qin, your leg injury isn't serious. The Living Immortal can definitely treat you. However, Cuiming Mountain is between Three Witches City and the ferry crossing, about ten li from here, and you still have to walk mountain paths. Brother Qin, you should hire a carriage. I do know a few carriage drivers, and I guarantee fair prices..."

Qin Sang declined the old boatman's kind offer. Under the boatman's disappointed gaze, he leaned on his wooden stick and hobbled into the crowd.

Walking amidst the crowd, Qin Sang heard accents from all over the country. He secretly thought that Three Witches City truly lived up to its reputation.

Affected by his leg injury, Qin Sang walked intermittently. He actually managed to hear an accent from his hometown. He looked over and saw several people in silk clothes on the shore directing laborers to load goods onto a boat.

Watching them load a boat full of goods and then sail away from the riverbank, Qin Sang ultimately said nothing. He resolutely turned and walked into a restaurant.

After eating delicious river fish and seafood, Qin Sang sat on the second floor, enjoying the river breeze. Holding his teacup, he gazed at the vast river surface and the busy people outside the window, lost in thought for a while.

"Waiter, the bill!"

Qin Sang took out a piece of silver. He watched the shopkeeper weigh it with a scale, and then, holding the change, he asked, "Excuse me, shopkeeper, I want to go to Three Witches City. Do you know where I can hire a carriage?"

The shopkeeper glanced at Qin Sang and pointed outside the door. "Go straight west down this street. At the end, there are over a dozen carriage companies clustered together. They all do legitimate business and have plenty of carriages going to Three Witches City and major ferry crossings."

Perhaps because Qin Sang ate a lot, the shopkeeper kindly reminded him, "In times like these... young sir, it's best not to travel alone. Find a few people to hire a carriage together, and it will be cheaper."

From the first intersection to Three Witches City, the terrain rose steadily. Several major ferry crossings entered the city via this road. There were many pedestrians on the road, and the road was wide and flat, so the carriage ride wasn't too bumpy.

Qin Sang got off the carriage at the foot of Cuiming Mountain. He looked up at the high mountain before him. The path on the mountain looked a bit treacherous, and with his leg injury, he felt a little apprehensive.

The mountains on both banks of the Wuling River rose and fell. Cuiming Mountain was merely one peak in this long mountain range, not particularly conspicuous among the mountains.

However, Cuiming Mountain possessed its unique spiritual beauty and charm. Amidst the dense forests on the mountain, the upturned eaves of temples and pavilions occasionally emerged. Sometimes, the distant sound of bells echoed through the mountains and forests, calming the mind.

Qin Sang heard a few legends about spirits and specters on Cuiming Mountain from the carriage driver. He wondered if these temples and Daoist temples chose Cuiming Mountain because of these legends, or if these legends only arose after they arrived.

Qin Sang struggled halfway up the mountain. He met a few people who were also going to Green Goat Temple for treatment. It was with their help that he finally arrived at Green Goat Temple, located halfway up the back mountain.

Qin Sang, leaning on his stick, stopped at the entrance of Green Goat Temple.

The scale of the Daoist temple was indeed not small. A large bamboo forest surrounded the temple. The afternoon sun was not scorching, and the bamboo leaves rustled, with a cool breeze blowing.

Because the mountain was steep, one could see the layered eaves and balconies from outside the temple. The architectural style was similar to the Daoist temples Qin Sang had seen in his previous life, but they were all severely dilapidated. Broken tiles were visible everywhere on the roofs, and clumps of thatch peeked out from under the tiles. It was estimated that very few roofs did not leak.

From the outside, one could hear voices inside; there were quite a few people.

Qin Sang slowly ascended the steps made of bluestone. The stone slab above the doorway was carved with the words 'Green Goat Temple'. Two rotten wooden doors hung askew on either side, their door rings covered in rust.

Upon entering, there was a large courtyard with haystacks, a donkey pen, an ancient well, a well windlass, a millstone, and a stone mortar. There were two large gardens; the smaller one was planted with vegetables, and the larger one was planted with things Qin Sang didn't recognize, likely medicinal herbs.

Behind the courtyard, a few high steps led up to a grand hall. This was the largest and most magnificent hall in Green Goat Temple, and also the best-maintained.

Above the hall hung a wooden plaque with the bold characters "Green Goat Hall". The paint on the characters was almost completely peeled off.

It didn't look like a place where immortals would live.

Qin Sang sighed inwardly. Just as he was about to enter, three people pushed the door open from inside. Two raggedly dressed men were supporting a pale old woman. As they walked out, they kept turning their heads and thanking him repeatedly, promising to bring the consultation fee next month.

Qin Sang knew that there were truly immortals in this world, so he dared not harbor any disrespect. His expression naturally became solemn, and he quietly walked into the Green Goat Hall.

The hall was spacious. The painted murals on the walls were largely peeled off, mottled, and it was impossible to tell what was originally depicted.

Only the three divine statues in the main hall were as colorful as new, with exceptionally exquisite craftsmanship and carving.

An incense stick was lit on the offering table, its smoke curling upwards, filling the room with fragrance.

To the side of the offering table, there was a long table and two cabinets, one for storing medicine and the other filled with scriptures. Behind the long table, a thin old Daoist sat upright like a pine tree, taking the pulse of an elderly person.

The old Daoist's beard and hair were all white, but his face did not show signs of age. His eyes were particularly bright and full of spirit. A strand of snow-white beard hung down to his chest, truly giving him an air of immortal demeanor. He wore a green Daoist robe, which was somewhat faded from washing but very clean.

To his right were brushes, ink, paper, and an inkstone. To his left were a medicine chest, a medicinal hoe, cinnabar, yellow paper, a divination tube, and other strange tools.

This must be Daoist Jixin, Qin Sang thought.

"Young sir, are you here to offer incense or to seek treatment?"

Qin Sang followed the sound and saw a young Daoist emerge from the crowd of people waiting for medical consultation. He was about thirteen or fourteen years old, and his Daoist robe seemed a bit loose and comical on him. He had a fair and clean complexion.

Remembering that the boatman had mentioned Daoist Jixin had a disciple, Qin Sang put on a smile. "Greetings, young Daoist. My surname is Qin. I injured my leg a few days ago and would like you to take a look."

The young Daoist brought over a small wooden stool. "Young Master Qin, please sit."

Qin Sang sat down as instructed. The young Daoist lifted Qin Sang's injured leg, felt the bone, and said, "Young Master Qin, your leg bone is not broken. It might be a hairline fracture. If you take some bone-nourishing herbal decoctions, you'll recover in no time. If you're not in a hurry, you can wait here, and my master can take a look at you."

Qin Sang had come specifically for the old Daoist, so he readily agreed. "Thank you, young Daoist."