The next day, it was still raining.

Rainy days were far too suited for sleeping. By the time Lin Sui’an got out of bed it was well past the hour of Si. She shuffled along in her shoes, yawning, and walked into the front hall, where she found the medical hall’s main doors thrown wide open. The passersby on the street seemed entirely indifferent to the newly appeared medical hall, walking past without a sideways glance.

Hua Yitang was draped over the windowsill, eyelids drooping, looking limp and listless — like a large soggy hide that had been left out in the damp.

Lin Sui’an followed his line of sight across the street and saw that grass had grown on the rooftop opposite — thin, long-leafed blades sprouting in clumps from between the roof tiles, the rain falling on them in a pale white haze.

Rainy days really do make a person melancholy, Lin Sui’an thought. Look at this — even Hua Yitang had lost his spirit.

Fangke, unusually, had woken up rather early today and was sitting properly behind the physician’s desk while Mu Xia gave his work report. “Our biggest problem at present is that there are no shops selling medicinal herbs in Cheng County. The herbs we brought with us are incomplete in variety and insufficient in quantity. If we order from a neighboring county, they can’t arrive for five days.”

Fangke looked over. Lin Sui’an poked Hua Yitang’s shoulder.

Hua Yitang’s shoulder twitched. He turned around, eyes carrying a trace of melancholy. “Doctor Fang can decide as he sees fit.”

Fangke’s expression: What’s gotten into this one now?

Lin Sui’an: No idea.

Hua Yitang’s eyes grew even more melancholy. He sighed, rested his head on his arm, and went back to staring absently at the grass on the rooftop across the way.

Fangke said resignedly: “We’ll make do with what we have for a few days. If it’s truly as Chief Clerk Zhu said, there probably won’t be many patients coming. If we’re really short-handed, acupuncture can be used in treatment.”

Mu Xia acknowledged this quietly and brought Lin Sui’an her breakfast, then hurried off to the back of the courtyard — apparently very busy.

Lin Sui’an cast her gaze around. “Where are Jin Ruo and Ita?”

Hua Yitang pointed left. “Jin Ruo went out for a stroll.” Then pointed right. “Ita went to the tea house next door to drink tea.”

Lin Sui’an: “What?”

“Ita seems to have reached new insights into the art of tea.”

This was not good news.

Breakfast was one of Mu Xia’s signature dishes — mutton noodle soup. Lin Sui’an ate every last bite and drained the broth, then thought for a moment and asked, “Are you — sick?”

Hua Yitang’s back went rigid. A long pause, and then he slowly relaxed again. “Yes. Sick.”

Lin Sui’an was taken aback. “Doctor Fang — come quickly and take his pulse.”

Fangke sat perfectly at ease where he was. “His ailment is boredom. There’s no cure for it.”

“What?”

Hua Yitang draped himself boneless over the windowsill, limbs hanging slack. “That Zhu Dachang — was he pulling our leg? He clearly said the Cheng County residents want nothing to do with medical halls, yet I’ve waited here all morning and not so much as one person has come to make trouble.”

Lin Sui’an: “…”

She really shouldn’t have asked.

“Is anyone there at the Fang Family Medical Hall?”

A shout came from the doorway. Hua Yitang leapt down instantly, eyes blazing, forehead aglow — lively as a dragon, spry as a tiger — and dashed over. “Yes, right here! Please come in, dear guest! Our Doctor Fang is a renowned physician, well-known even in the Eastern Capital — no matter how difficult or complex the ailment, he can cure it with medicine!”

The man at the door appeared to be around fifty, right hand holding an umbrella, stocky in build, wearing a black long robe and black headscarf, the clothes somewhat faded and the hem half-drenched in mud. He looked neat nonetheless, and appeared to be an educated man. He was startled by Hua Yitang’s enthusiasm, studied him for a moment, then said, “I am the ward head of Penglai Ward — Han Taiping. Is Doctor Fang Ke here?”

“Our Doctor Fang is right inside — Ward Head Han, please come in.” Hua Yitang looked as though he was about to seize the ward head and take a bite out of him.

“I’ll stay here, my clothes are wet — it wouldn’t be appropriate to come in.” Han Taiping declined politely, and nodded to Fangke inside the hall. Fangke rose and came over, nudging Hua Yitang aside.

“I am Fangke.”

Ward Head Han looked steadily at Fangke for a moment, then drew a bamboo cylinder from his sleeve. “This is the medical hall operating permit issued after county office approval — it arrived this morning.”

Fangke said nothing. Hua Yitang’s hand shot out and secured the permit. “Many thanks to Ward Head Han — the trouble was yours.”

Ward Head Han smiled meaningfully. “I see Doctor Fang is from out of town and may not be familiar with Cheng County’s situation. I’d like to offer a word or two of warning.”

Fangke: “…”

Hua Yitang: “Ward Head Han, please speak freely.”

“Cheng County is under the protection of the Dragon God. The people of Cheng County enjoy robust health and long lives — they never fall ill. Doctor Fang, you’ve opened your medical hall in quite the wrong place.”

Fangke, expressionless: “People eat the five grains — how can any of them be free from illness?”

Hua Yitang: “Exactly, exactly — what person never gets sick?”

“I’ve said what needed saying. Believe it or not, that’s up to you.” Ward Head Han’s smile never faded. “Tomorrow is the first day of the fourth month — an auspicious day when the Cheng Mountain Dragon God Temple opens its doors wide. Has Doctor Fang prepared any offerings?”

Fangke: “I couldn’t be bothered to—”

“Oh my!” Hua Yitang pushed Fangke back into the hall and then trotted back, bowing repeatedly. “My Doctor Fang speaks too bluntly and doesn’t choose his words well — Ward Head Han, please don’t take offense. We’ve just arrived in Cheng County and will be counting on Ward Head Han to look after us going forward.” Saying this, he pressed ten copper coins into Ward Head Han’s hand and smiled. “Are there any particular customs regarding offerings?”

Ward Head Han pocketed the coins without any visible reaction and gave a nod. “You’re quite sharp. Temple Master Xuanming Shanren is benevolent and magnanimous — he never forces any resident to contribute. Any offering presented with a sincere heart is a good offering.”

Hua Yitang pressed another ten coins forward. “And how is a sincere heart measured?”

“The more sincere, the more the Dragon God’s protection.”

Hua Yitang pressed forward a third set of coins. “We’d love to hear more.”

“For ordinary residents, the offering is at one’s own discretion. For shops and businesses, it is three-tenths of their net profit.” Ward Head Han patted Hua Yitang’s shoulder. “You’re a new shop — use your judgment.”

Ward Head Han never even stepped inside. He collected thirty copper coins, departed well-satisfied, and the look he gave Hua Yitang as he left had three characters written plainly all over it: “easy mark.”

Fangke rolled his eyes hard. “What absolute rubbish!”

Hua Yitang crossed his arms, narrowed his eyes, and paced around the room. “No wonder there are almost no shops in the county — they’re taxing three-tenths of profits, that’s quite the shakedown. Hmm — do you all suppose Longshen Temple has any connection with the Cheng County office?”

Lin Sui’an: “…”

It seemed Zhu Dachang had hidden quite a good deal from them.

“Hey hey hey, something big’s happened!” Jin Ruo came diving through the door, his oiled paper umbrella casually tossed to the floor. “Guess what I saw?!”

Everyone’s expressions sharpened.

Fangke: “The Dragon God?”

Hua Yitang: “Longshen Temple?”

Lin Sui’an: “Xuanming Shanren?”

Jin Ruo, with great disdain: “Can none of you have any sense of timing?”

Lin Sui’an gave Jin Ruo a smack on the back of his head. “Just say it.”

Jin Ruo took a deep breath, pointed outside the door, and said, “I saw — Ita and the little girl we met at the tea stall outside the city — sitting in the tea house drinking tea together! Thick as thieves!”

Everyone: !!

Mu Xia came flying out of the back courtyard like a gust of wind, making straight for the tea house. The other four crept after him on tiptoe. Mu Xia crouched under the tea house window with his ears perked, and the group fell into a silent line, squeezing along below the windowsill, all adopting the exact same posture as Mu Xia.

The tea house still had hardly anyone inside. The only occupied table was Ita’s — he was there with the young girl. Lin Sui’an recalled that she seemed to be called Little Fish.

Ita: “Like this — does it taste good?”

Little Fish giggled. “That’s a compressed tea brick — it can only be boiled. If you steep a tea brick, the leaves are too old.”

“Only loose leaf tea, steeped — tastes good?”

“Yes, steeped loose leaf tea is the tastiest.”

“What kind of tea leaves make loose leaf?”

“I only know how to make a hundred-flower tea. Other kinds of tea leaves I don’t really understand.”

“Teach me.”

“You have so many kinds of compressed tea — why do you want to learn loose leaf?” Little Fish’s voice dropped. “The nobles in the capital all say that loose leaf tea isn’t even fit for dogs.”

“Wrong!”

“Hm?”

“The Pig Person says loose leaf tea is good — loose leaf tea is a fine tea! The finest tea of all!”

The four turned in unison to look at Lin Sui’an. Lin Sui’an was moved nearly to tears. Ita really was a good child!

“Ha — what is a ‘Pig Person’?”

“A Pig Person is a Pig Person — the same as Fourth Young Master, the very best kind of person!”

“Alright alright alright, I’ll teach you. For loose leaf tea to be made well, you first have to select the tea leaves — the more tender, the better. All my hundred-flower tea I pick myself up the mountain. I also know about a secret tea grove — I’ll tell you quietly…”

Little Fish’s voice grew softer and softer until it could no longer be made out.

The five eavesdroppers below the window craned their necks, their heads climbing up over the sill, five pairs of eyes rolling along the window’s edge.

Ita was solemnly recording something on paper. His beautiful golden hair fell across his handsome nose bridge, and his large sky-blue eyes were like the sea surface reflecting a sky full of stars. As Little Fish talked, she found herself gazing at Ita’s profile in a daze, her face reddening, her voice growing even smaller.

The group quietly withdrew and crouched back down.

Jin Ruo: Ita is worthy of his title as a prince — the awakened power of his bloodline is truly awe-inspiring!

Lin Sui’an: The child has grown up. The Pig Person is deeply gratified.

Mu Xia glanced at Hua Yitang: Fourth Young Master — look at Ita!

Hua Yitang, thoroughly baffled: How strange — Ita was trained by me personally. Can this be what they mean by “the student surpassing the master”?

Fangke, counting on his fingers: Better start saving more money.

The first day of the fourth month — the rain had stopped.

The sky was still overcast and heavy, the clouds pressing low, weighing on people’s hearts.

Everyone rose early, ate a simple breakfast, left Mu Xia and Ita at home to mind the shop, and set off for Longshen Temple.

Penglai Ward occupied the geographic center of Cheng County. From Penglai Ward to Longshen Temple on Cheng Mountain required passing through half the county town.

Since arriving in Cheng County, Lin Sui’an was witnessing such a large crowd for the first time. People streamed from each ward and gradually converged onto the street — elderly folk leaning on walking sticks, women leading children, able-bodied men carrying shoulder poles, young women with baskets over their arms, the baskets and containers filled mostly with green vegetables. There were also those hauling sacks of rice, those carrying loads of firewood, those holding dried salted fish and dried plum vegetables — they filed out through the city gate of Cheng and wound their way up the mountain stone steps, like a column of ants carrying goods.

Before leaving, Fangke had applied a yellow medicinal paste to Hua Yitang’s face. Fourth Young Master Hua now had a sallow complexion, his looks knocked down several grades on the spot. Walking in the crowd, he attracted no attention whatsoever.

Today he had again become unusually quiet. He walked through the stream of people at an unhurried pace. Whenever residents passed by him, he would stare unblinking at their clothing — and then sniff at them — one person went past, two people, a whole group —people shot him utterly baffled looks from all sides.

Lin Sui’an, Jin Ruo, and Fangke followed at a distance, wishing they could put a full eight zhang of space between themselves and Hua Yitang.

Jin Ruo: “Is he a dog?”

Fangke: “I really don’t want to admit I know him.”

Lin Sui’an: “…”

Absolutely mortifying.

Longshen Temple sat halfway up Cheng Mountain. From the foot of the mountain, golden light could already be glimpsed flickering through the forest. Once they climbed up the mountain, it became clear that the golden light was from the gilded roof of the temple’s main hall. On this overcast day the gilded roof still blazed brilliantly — one could only imagine how dazzlingly radiant it must be on a clear day.

Passing through the yellow-walled, blue-tiled gateway arch of Longshen Temple, the view opened dramatically before them. A grand and imposing Taoist temple climbed the mountain ahead. Along the central axis stood two main halls — the front hall was the main shrine, called the “Dragon God Hall.” The back hall was a two-story building bearing the plaque “Hall of Sincere Acceptance.” To the east and west stood matching bell and drum towers. The other dozen or so halls of varying sizes were scattered among the green trees, their gilded roofs gleaming against each other — a considerable establishment.

Hua Yitang stopped walking, his gaze turning cold.

All along the way, the residents he’d observed were dressed neatly and cleanly — yet the shoulders, sleeves, and hems of every garment showed tears that had been mended with patches, and he could smell the mustiness of clothes stored away for years. Clearly these were old garments worn for years on end.

In Cheng County, presenting offerings to Longshen Temple was a serious affair, yet they could only come dressed like this — meaning their everyday clothing must be even more worn and tattered.

A county this impoverished, with people this impoverished, had managed to build a temple this extravagant. How much had been wrung from the flesh and blood of the people?!

In front of the Dragon God Hall was a wide open plaza, with twelve offering platforms arranged within it. The ward head of each ward sat behind a platform with a household register scroll at hand. Residents lined up before the platform of their own ward, presented their offerings, and the ward head marked the register accordingly.

Fangke clicked his tongue. Jin Ruo cursed under his breath.

Lin Sui’an frowned. By the look of things, these so-called offerings were no voluntary act of devotion — they were compelled.

Penglai Ward’s queue was the shortest, as Penglai Ward was mostly merchants, and there were very few of them. Fangke ended up last in line. The tea house owner from next door was right in front, and greeted Fangke warmly — but Fangke’s perpetual cold expression was enough to chase anyone away, and after a few stilted exchanges with no response, the man gave up.

Lin Sui’an, Hua Yitang, and Jin Ruo stood at the side of the queue, silently observing the people in the plaza. The offerings varied widely in kind and were mostly foodstuffs; very few gave money. Once their offering was made, people clustered in twos and threes, chatting and greeting each other warmly. Everyone’s faces were flushed with color, and all of them were smiling. It was a smile that was hard to describe — contented and fulfilled somehow, yet with a dreamy, unreal quality about the eyes.

Lin Sui’an: “Every person’s complexion is ruddy, their health evidently good.”

Jin Ruo: “They do indeed appear physically robust.”

Hua Yitang: “What about their body weights?”

“Hm?” Jin Ruo startled slightly, then caught on at once and made a quick circuit through the crowd. When he came back, his expression was odder than ever.

“Nearly everyone weighs roughly forty percent less than the average for their age. Something is very wrong.” Jin Ruo pointed toward the group in the far corner. “Except for those few.”

Those farmhands were quite familiar — they were the same group from the roadside tea stall outside the city gates. They had recognized this party as well and burst out laughing. Little Fish emerged from among the laughter, face red, and came trotting over, looking left and right and failing to find who she was looking for. Her eyes dimmed. “Ita didn’t come?”

Hua Yitang smiled. “Ita is minding the house today.”

“Oh—” Little Fish scuffed her toe on the ground, tilted her head, and looked at Lin Sui’an with an ever so slightly sour expression. “You’re Ita’s Pig Person?”

Hua Yitang and Jin Ruo both snapped their heads toward Lin Sui’an. Lin Sui’an was a little embarrassed. “Yes.”

Little Fish gave another “Oh,” then pouted and stared at Lin Sui’an for a good long moment, smoothed her own hair, tugged at her own clothes, and suddenly brightened up. “You’re quite good-looking too — but I’m better-looking.”

Hua Yitang and Jin Ruo: “Pfft!”

Lin Sui’an, somewhere between laughing and crying: “Yes.”

Little Fish’s gaze shifted to Hua Yitang’s face, and her expression fell. “How did you suddenly get so ugly?”

Hua Yitang gave a dry smile. “I had a bit of trouble adjusting to the local climate.”

Little Fish understood at once. She reached into her front and pulled out a packet of tea, pressing it into Hua Yitang’s hands. “This is the hundred-flower tea I promised to give Ita — you… you drink more of it, don’t be too sad, I’m sure you’ll go back to normal.”

Now it was Hua Yitang’s turn to be caught somewhere between laughing and crying.

“Dong — dong — dong—” the bell from the drum tower rang out across the entire temple complex. The gates of the main hall slowly opened. A procession of young Taoist priests filed out — all clad in blue robes with moon-crescent crowns — followed by the head Taoist priest, who appeared to be about thirty years of age, wearing a yellow precept robe and a lotus-flower crown. His face was as fine as polished jade, adorned with three light wisps of beard — an air of celestial refinement about him. In his hand he held a silver fly-whisk.

Behind him were three more people: Zhu Dachang, a familiar face, standing at his left; on his right were two men Lin Sui’an didn’t recognize — both past their forties, dressed in brocade long robes. One was very tall and stout with a flat, round face. The other was very short and thin, with a sharp jaw and a beady-eyed, pinched look.

The residents all bowed in reverent worship, calling out “Temple Master Xuanming” in unison. Little Fish noticed Lin Sui’an and the others still standing there and quickly urged them, “This is the temple master of Longshen Temple — hurry and kowtow!”

Lin Sui’an, Hua Yitang, and Jin Ruo exchanged a glance, then bowed with one knee on the ground. Across the plaza, a sea of heads bowed low — except for one figure who stood out from the crowd like a crane among chickens, glaring steadily at Xuanming Shanren with considerable force. It was Fangke.

All three of them felt a tremor in their pupils. They were done for — they’d forgotten about Fangke.

Xuanming Shanren seemed mildly surprised and looked at Fangke with a benevolent expression. “This young gentleman looks unfamiliar — a visitor from elsewhere?”

Zhu Dachang broke out in cold sweat and hastily stepped forward. “This is a physician who recently arrived in Cheng County.”

Xuanming Shanren gazed serenely at Zhu Dachang.

Zhu Dachang didn’t dare meet Xuanming Shanren’s eyes. He lowered his head. “A newly opened medical hall in Penglai Ward.”

Flat-face: “Cheng County actually has a physician now?”

Sharp-face: “Zhu Ninth Young Master — you somehow forgot to mention this to us.”

Zhu Dachang wiped the sweat from his brow. “Failing to report to the two Family Heads — that is my dereliction of duty.”

Xuanming Shanren smiled faintly, raising his voice slightly. “Have you brought an offering?”

Zhu Dachang frantically made eyes at Fangke. Fangke remained stone-faced and utterly motionless, still glaring at Xuanming Shanren.

Xuanming Shanren’s smile vanished.

The entire plaza fell into dead silence. Not a single soul dared make a sound.

Jin Ruo: “Doctor Fang wouldn’t have come without money, would he?”

Hua Yitang: “This morning I specifically asked Mu Xia to give Fang Ge a string of coins.”

Jin Ruo: “A whole string of coins? We’re done — I’ve got a very bad feeling about this.”

Hua Yitang: “Don’t — don’t tell me…”

Lin Sui’an: “…”

No need to speculate. Fang Ge was that stingy — expecting money to pass through his hands and come back out again was simply a pipe dream.

Xuanming Shanren gave a silent signal. A host of Taoist priests surged forward to surround Fangke. Jin Ruo drew a sharp breath. Lin Sui’an tightened her grip on Qian Jing. Hua Yitang was the most extraordinary — like a giant lizard, he pressed himself flat to the ground and darted across toward Fangke’s position with startling speed. “Excuse me, pardon me, please let me through, many thanks all.”

At that very moment, a great commotion erupted in the queue for Daye Ward. Someone screamed: “A child has fainted! A child has fainted!!”

Everyone was alarmed. Attention instantly shifted — and no one could have anticipated that the quickest to react would be Fangke himself. His lean frame seemed suddenly injected with some miraculous burst of superhuman energy. He slipped out of the ring of Taoist priests, leaped clear of the Penglai Ward queue, and called out at the top of his voice, “Move aside — I’m a physician!”

The crowd in Daye Ward parted in a circle. A woman was kneeling on the ground, cradling a boy of four or five in her arms. The child’s face was flushed deep red, his whole body shaking violently. The woman wept and called his name. “A Niu, A Niu — what’s wrong, wake up!”

Fangke knelt beside her, pressed his fingertips to the boy’s pulse point, brow tightening — and was just reaching to feel the boy’s forehead when the woman suddenly shoved Fangke’s hand away with force and cried out, “Don’t touch him!” She lifted her face, streaming with tears, and called out, “Temple Master — please, save A Niu!”

Fangke froze, watching in stunned disbelief as the kneeling residents parted on all fours to make way. Xuanming Shanren’s robes billowed unblemished — his immaculate shoes treading through the crowd’s attention — step by measured step to the woman’s side, then smiling. “The child is ill?”

“He was perfectly fine just now — he fainted all of a sudden.” The woman knocked her head to the ground again and again. “I beg the Temple Master to grant us the talisman water and save my child!”

Xuanming Shanren smiled serenely and said nothing. The Daye Ward head stepped forward, flipped through the household register, and said quietly, “This woman’s name is Qiu Sanniang — she is a widow. Her husband died a year ago. She has one son, milk-name A Niu, who lives on Hong Dao Street in Daye Ward. Her last three months of offerings have each been three jin of salted fish.”

Xuanming Shanren nodded. “Qiu Sanniang, you lack sincerity. That is why the child has received no blessing from the Dragon God and has fallen ill.”

The color drained from Qiu Sanniang’s face all at once. Tears poured down. “Temple Master, I beg your understanding — I truly had nothing more to give these past few months. Next month I will absolutely offer a proper tribute — I beg you, please save my A Niu, please save my A Niu—!”

“I am a physician.” Fangke rose to his feet. “I can treat him.”

Xuanming Shanren continued smiling, looking at Fangke with unhurried calm.

“You’re an outsider — what do you know?!”

“How dare you show disrespect to the Temple Master — if you anger the Dragon God, can you bear the consequences?”

“The Temple Master’s talisman water cures all ailments — Cheng County doesn’t need a physician!”

One by one the residents around him rose to their feet. Pairs of cold, furious eyes stared at him, like countless blades of ice piercing through Fangke’s chest.

“Get out of Cheng County!”

“Get out!”

“Get out!”

“Get out!”

Fangke was stunned. He took a stumbling half-step back — and then something warm and steady pressed against his back. A hand. Fangke caught the scent of Manbi wine — the scent of Qian Jing, and of Lin Sui’an.

“Oh goodness — this is all a misunderstanding!” Hua Yitang materialized from nowhere and clasped his hands in a bow to the crowd. “What Doctor Fang meant was — seeing that this mother is in a difficult situation, he wished to present an offering on the child’s behalf and pray for the Temple Master to grant the talisman water.”

Saying this, he produced four strings of coins from his front, held them reverently before Xuanming Shanren with both hands, and said, “And one string is our own offering — we humbly ask the Temple Master to accept it.”

Xuanming Shanren raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Is that so?”

“My, how thoughtless of us — we’re newcomers, so naturally we ought to offer a little more to demonstrate our sincerity.” Hua Yitang produced another string of coins. “Please don’t hold this against us, Temple Master — we earnestly ask for the Dragon God’s abundant blessing upon our household!”

Behind Fangke, the hand pressed gently, guiding his body into a bow. Lin Sui’an beside him bent at the waist and clasped her hands, her clear, steady voice falling like stone on still water. “Please forgive us, Temple Master.”

Fangke closed his eyes. He clasped his hands. “Temple Master, please forgive us.”

Zhu Dachang quickly stepped in to smooth things over. “Outsiders don’t know proper conduct — but knowing the error and correcting it is no small virtue. Temple Master need not stoop to their level.”

Xuanming Shanren nodded with satisfaction, signaled for Hua Yitang’s five strings of coins to be collected, then raised his voice. “Xuanqing — the talisman water, if you please.”

One of the priests responded and stepped away. Qiu Sanniang was weeping with grateful relief as she knocked her head to the ground. The residents around them broke into expressions of relieved, satisfied smiles.

Lin Sui’an and Hua Yitang took the opportunity to pull Fangke into the crowd, and let out a collective breath.

Before long, the priest called Xuanqing returned cradling a tray. On it sat a pocket-sized white porcelain gourd flask, a little over two inches tall, its mouth sealed with red wax.

The gazes of the Cheng County residents upon the gourd flask were filled with reverence and longing.

Qiu Sanniang’s trembling hands poured the talisman water into A Niu’s mouth. Within moments, the boy’s full-body trembling stopped. Xuanming Shanren circled the fly-whisk twice above A Niu’s head. The deep flush slowly receded from A Niu’s face — he smacked his lips, opened his eyes, and called out weakly, “Mama.”

Qiu Sanniang burst into tears of gratitude. “Oh thank heaven — A Niu is alive! A Niu is alive! Thank you, Temple Master — thank you for saving his life!”

A wave of cheering spread through the crowd.

Lin Sui’an and Hua Yitang looked at each other. Both made an expression like they had a toothache.

Fangke stared with hooded eyes at A Niu’s face, the calm depths of his gaze locked unblinking on the child. He clenched his hand until the nails cut into his palm, drawing blood.

Day 61 of lockdown — ugh.