Three days later, Lin Shisan could get out of bed and walk.
To be precise, he supported himself against the wall and shuffled into the courtyard, one step at a time.
The Old Man jumped when he saw him and cursed him for having a death wish.
But Lin Shisan merely waved a hand and sat on a stone stool in the courtyard with a guileless smile, basking in the sun as a cold sweat soaked him.
His wounds had not fully healed.
The scab on his chest was still there, and coughing tugged painfully at it.
Although the Old Man had applied medicinal herbs to the wound on his left leg, he still limped when he walked.
Unable to change his mind, the Old Man could only let him be.
On the fifth day, the scabs on Lin Shisan's body began falling away, revealing newly grown flesh, so tender and red that it still looked a little frightening.
On the seventh day, the wound on his left leg began closing too. He still limped a little, but it no longer hurt so much.
On the eighth day, he tried moving a few pieces of firewood in the courtyard. Though the effort left him panting, he felt much more at ease.
He no longer had to do nothing but eat and drink at their expense.
Over these seven or eight days, watching the Old Man work, Little Stone gather things, and the Old Woman bustle about every day had kept him uneasy.
It was on this very day that the Old Man fell ill.
It was nothing serious, just a cold.
But an old ailment flared up as well, leaving his back aching so badly that he could not straighten it. He lay in bed, groaning.
A typical ailment of