Celestial Masters Sect.
Oh, the Way of Five Pecks of Rice.
Oh, the Yellow Turban Army.
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Wait, the current version's progress hadn't reached the Yellow Coin Army yet, had it?
Shen Le silently translated in his heart, turning the words he heard into terms more familiar and easier for him to understand, before heading out to take a look.
Upon hearing that members of the Celestial Masters Sect had come to distribute talisman water, every household in the village with anyone able to move supported the elderly, carried children, shouldered and backed the sick, and swarmed to the village entrance, forming circle upon circle beneath the great locust tree:
"Merciful immortals!"
"Merciful Daoist Patriarch!"
"Save my father! My father's about to die!"
"Please save my son—"
Those who could walk carried their elderly fathers and mothers on their backs, held little boys and girls in their arms, or supported their husbands and wives. A vast, dark mass crowded the area.
Shen Le hurriedly turned around and stopped his entire family from going out, lest they catch the plague again just after recovering. Then he made a wide detour and watched from afar:
Led by the long-bearded Daoist, the Daoists had set up an impressive display in the open space beneath the locust tree. The long-bearded Daoist stood before a long table, a wooden sword in his right hand and a command tablet in his left, with a pair of thick candles burning before him;
The oldest disciple was taking talismans from his pack in small stacks and laying them flat on the long table, making sure they would not be touched by stray sparks;
The two youngest disciples hurriedly dug into the ground, piled up stones, laid in dry firewood, and placed a huge pot atop the