Can Reading Cure Illness?

The moment he thought of it, Ma Feifei perked up. He stopped making a fool of himself outside the door, abandoned his little stool, and ran into the bookstore to fiddle around at the Bookstore Owner's exclusive writing desk and cash register.

First, he had to determine whether this idea was correct. How? Try writing a poem.

After laying out the paper and picking up a ballpoint pen, Ma Feifei first wrote down a title.

Quiet Night Thought.

Should I write the author's name? Ma Feifei hesitated. When copying the previous two books, he had not copied the pen names. More accurately, the system had not allowed him to copy them.

But this time, Ma Feifei was acting on his own. If he did not write the author's name, could it still count as a complete poem? And if it was not a complete poem, whether it could even become a book was a question.

"Then I'll write it first." Ma Feifei nodded and wrote on the paper:

Author: Li Bai Moonlight before my bed, Could it be frost upon the ground? I raise my head to gaze at the moon, Then lower it, thinking of home.

After copying several million words' worth of books, Ma Feifei's handwriting had not become any prettier. Instead, it had strayed further and further down the path of looking vaguely similar. He was probably the only one who could recognize it.

He waited five seconds, but there was no reaction at all.

"Does this not work?" Ma Feifei looked at the fluttering sheet of paper in confusion.

"No, wait. It looks like there's hope." Ma Feifei examined the paper carefully and discovered the number 1/30 appearing in its lower-right corner.

"Thirty poems to make a book?"

With that thought, Ma Feifei turned to a fresh page. After thinking for a while, he began writing.

Author: Luo Binwang Goose, goose, goose, Stretching its curved neck, it sings toward the sky. White feathers float upon green water, Red webbed feet stir clear ripples.

After finishing Ode to the Goose, Ma Feifei stared at the lower-right corner and watched the words 2/30 gradually emerge on the page. That meant his guess had been correct.

"Yes!" Ma Feifei could not help clapping his hands.

The bookstore was quiet. Zhou Zhuling sat silently in a corner, reading Andersen's Fairy Tales. Her seat was tucked far away, so customers entering the bookstore would definitely not notice her at first glance. Zhou Guanyu sat beside her, engrossed in Half a Mu of Flower Fields.

Ma Feifei's shout startled both of them. They looked up at him with displeasure.

Ma Feifei sensed the killing intent. Seeing the Zhou siblings glaring at him, he immediately clasped his hands and smiled. "Sorry, sorry."

The siblings were clearly both absorbed in their books. Seeing that Ma Feifei's apology was sincere, they lowered their heads and continued reading.

After settling his excitement, Ma Feifei began racking his brains to write poems.

Inside the tiny bookstore, the three of them quietly went about their own business.

By noon, Ma Feifei's neck had begun to ache. Only then did he put down his pen, rolled his neck, and looked at the On the Frontier poem by Wang Changling he had just finished. He nodded in satisfaction. "Only ten more and I can make a book. Keep it up. If I can finish them this afternoon, I can put it on the shelf tomorrow."

It had to be said that Ma Feifei was truly full of energy now.

After all, he had seen hope.

"What smells so good?" A fragrant scent drifted into his nose. Ma Feifei sniffed and looked up, only to discover that two maids had somehow appeared beside the Zhou siblings. They were taking delicacies from a basket and placing them on the table one dish at a time. From where Ma Feifei sat, he could even see steam rising from the food.

"What an evil capitalist society!" Ma Feifei could not help grumbling.

His stomach was hungry again.

"Shopkeeper, come eat with us!" Zhou Guanyu invited him.

But Ma Feifei refused. He felt it was not right to eat other people's food for free. Of course, the most important reason was that there was a girl there. He was shy.

So Ma Feifei could only watch them eat steaming hot food while he gnawed on snacks. He wanted to eat something tasty too, but he could not leave the shop during business hours. After all, the books in the bookstore had no ability to protect themselves. If they were stolen, they were gone. They would not fly back on their own.

But as long as Ma Feifei saw it happen inside the shop, he was a god within the bookstore. Unless he was willing, no one could take away even a single book.

Ma Feifei found this rule thoroughly irritating. It meant that as long as customers were around, even going to the toilet made him nervous, afraid that a book might be stolen during those few moments.

Fortunately, Ma Feifei was soon drawn back into writing poetry. After hastily eating something to fill his stomach, he once again started wracking his brains to recall ancient poems.

"What was the title of Li Bai's poem that starts with 'My old friend bids farewell in the west at Yellow Crane Tower' again?"

"And who wrote the one that begins, 'In spring sleep, dawn comes before I know it'?"

For the first time in his life, Ma Feifei desperately wanted to work hard at reciting ancient poetry. Unfortunately, he had returned most of the poems he had learned to his Chinese teacher. Either he could not remember the lines in full, or he had forgotten the author. He stumbled along until he finished twenty-six poems, then Ma Feifei froze. He could not write any more.

"This is damn awkward."

"Shopkeeper, renewal." That afternoon, Zhou Guanyu obediently handed Ma Feifei ten Spirit Crystals. But Ma Feifei clearly had no time to deal with him. He absentmindedly took the Spirit Crystals, set them on the table, and went back to pondering ancient poems.

Zhou Guanyu paused in surprise. He lowered his head and glanced at what Ma Feifei had written, utterly baffled. When he returned to his seat, he looked at Zhou Zhuling and whispered, "Sister, this shopkeeper is rather mysterious."

"Hm? What do you mean?" Zhou Zhuling did not even raise her head, savoring Andersen's Fairy Tales. She liked the little stories inside. Zhou Guanyu had been right—this book truly was interesting.

"He seems to be writing something," Zhou Guanyu said.

"He runs a bookstore. Naturally, he has some literary talent. What is strange about writing?"

"But I can't understand a single character!" Zhou Guanyu was deeply wounded. He considered himself well-read and knowledgeable, familiar with the writing systems of the Five Nations of Canglong. He had even dabbled in ancient scripts, yet he could not recognize a single character Ma Feifei had written.

"What is strange about that? There are countless scripts in this world. Can you recognize them all? Read your book, read your book." Zhou Zhuling clearly did not want Zhou Guanyu interrupting her reading. After saying that, she shifted farther away and continued reading.

Zhou Guanyu stared at Zhou Zhuling, then glanced toward Ma Feifei. Only then did he lower his head and continue reading. But before two seconds had passed, Zhou Guanyu suddenly looked up, his eyes fixed tightly on Zhou Zhuling.

As if sensing something, Zhou Zhuling frowned and looked at Zhou Guanyu. "What is it?"

Zhou Guanyu's eyes widened. Pointing at Zhou Zhuling, he said excitedly, "Sister, have you noticed anything unusual?"

Zhou Zhuling blinked. "Hm?"

"Sister, your illness seems to have been suppressed." Zhou Guanyu's voice was full of delight.

Zhou Zhuling's illness was extremely serious—so serious that she almost coughed up blood once every hour. If she had not consumed large quantities of spiritual medicine every day to replenish the blood and vitality in her body, she would not have been able to withstand losing so much blood.

But strangely enough, ever since entering this bookstore today, Zhou Zhuling had not coughed up blood even once. Even her pale complexion had gained a slight flush. She did not understand why, but it was undeniably there.

"You're right. My body does feel especially comfortable today." Hearing this, Zhou Zhuling examined herself and discovered that she did not feel as miserable as usual. A strange sense of comfort filled her entire body.

No one understood Zhou Zhuling's illness better than Zhou Zhuling herself. She could not remember how many years it had been since she last felt this comfortable.

Zhou Guanyu glanced at Ma Feifei, then at the copy of Andersen's Fairy Tales in Zhou Zhuling's hands. He whispered, "Sister, do you think it could be because of this book? When I read this book, I can occasionally sense spiritual energy stirring within my body."

In fact, Zhou Guanyu had discovered this during his first visit to read. Besides wanting to continue reading the story today, he had also come to confirm whether his feeling was correct.

Zhou Zhuling's condition was already enough to prove it.

Zhou Zhuling stared at the book in her hands. To her embarrassment, she had been so absorbed in reading that she had not noticed any fluctuations in her spiritual energy. At that thought, a blush rose to her pale face.

Zhou Guanyu did not pay much attention to Zhou Zhuling's expression. The more he thought about it, the more excited he became. He stopped reading, grabbed Zhou Zhuling's hand, and said eagerly, "Sister, if it's true, doesn't that mean your illness can be cured?"

Well, Zhou Guanyu's imagination was running wild.

Although Zhou Zhuling had not thought in that direction, her body truly was in much better condition now. If it really was because she had read this book, then Zhou Guanyu's idea might not be impossible.

But when she thought of her illness, Zhou Zhuling no longer held any hope. She smiled faintly and said, "My illness has already reached an incurable stage. Even the Medical Sage is helpless. How could a single book possibly cure it?"

Zhou Guanyu did not care about any of that, nor did he argue with Zhou Zhuling. He stood up and walked over to Ma Feifei. First, he gave him a formal salute, leaving Ma Feifei completely bewildered.

"Please, Venerable, save my sister."

Huh?