Chapter 18: Golden Mountain Temple
The next day.
When Luo Zijun awoke, Xiao Huan had already risen and was helping her sister wash clothes in the small courtyard.
The petite figure bathed in the golden morning sunlight, obedient and earnest, full of energy.
“Master, your servant will help you wash up,” she said hurriedly as Luo Zijun stepped out of the room.
The little maid lowered her head as she spoke, her cheeks flushed red, like a newly blossomed flower bud under the sun—fresh, shy, and utterly charming.
Luo Zijun suddenly realized that this little maid was quite pretty.
He wondered how many taels of silver his sister had spent, and where she had bought her.
Luo Jiaorong glanced at him and smiled, saying, “Xiao Huan, let him manage on his own. He isn’t helpless. You keep helping me with the laundry.”
The little maid responded with a soft “Oh,” then sat down again.
After washing up, Luo Zijun took a flatbread from the kitchen, greeted them, and prepared to leave.
Luo Jiaorong asked, “Do you have plans tonight? If not, come back early.”
Suddenly remembering, Luo Zijun said hastily, “I might be going to a brothel with Su Bie and some others to discuss poetry. I’ll be back late; don’t wait for me to eat.”
Luo Jiaorong frowned slightly and warned, “It’s fine to socialize, but don’t mingle with those bad company, and don’t go to such places of ill repute, understand?”
Luo Zijun nodded.
After he left, Luo Jiaorong turned to Xiao Huan and asked, “That guy really didn’t touch you last night?”
Xiao Huan shook her head, blushing.
Actually, it could be considered touching—when she woke in the morning, the master’s hand was holding her foot.
Luo Jiaorong pondered, “Could it be that he just doesn’t understand yet?”
“Xiao Huan, do you know how men and women... well, have children?”
Xiao Huan shook her head in confusion.
Luo Jiaorong thought to herself that these two youngsters had no guidance and knew nothing at all.
“Xiao Huan, come to my room later. I’ll teach you a few things.”
“Oh.”
Luo Jiaorong resolved to give it her all.
Though teaching these things was a bit embarrassing, as an elder sister, she felt it was her responsibility.
“I’ll have Zheng Shan buy some books like those today and leave them in Zijun’s room. He can learn by himself, so it won’t be too awkward for me to teach him.”
With that in mind, she finished the laundry quickly and brought the little maid inside.
“Xiao Huan, when men and women sleep together, it’s not just about lying side by side. Sometimes, you have to do some... well, more interesting things...”
---
“Touch... touch feet?”
“Hmm???”
At the Bao’an Clinic.
When Luo Zijun arrived at the pharmacy, Su Dafang was preparing to leave, holding a medicine box. Seeing him, he quickly said, “Zijun, come with me to the north side of the city.”
Luo Zijun took the medicine box and noticed it was unusually heavy today.
“There are some medicines inside. The patient’s condition is serious; we might have to administer the medicine on site,” Su Dafang said as he hurried out.
Luo Zijun quickly slung the box over his shoulder and followed. He glanced back at the shop, where Su Qingling stood behind the counter watching him. Seeing his gaze, she rolled her eyes.
Luo Zijun waved, “Senior Sister, put it away. Wait for me to come back before you put it out!”
Su Qingling: “...”
Su Dafang looked back in confusion, “Put what away?”
By the time he turned, Su Qingling had already put the snacks back.
Luo Zijun said, “Senior Sister seems to have brought me some snacks.”
Su Dafang glanced once more inside the shop, then at him, but said nothing further, quickening his pace.
They traveled in silence.
Soon, they arrived at a house deep within a narrow alley in the northern part of the city. The old residence was somewhat dilapidated, with untended weeds growing at the entrance.
A woman dressed in coarse cloth clothing led them inside.
Her eyes were red, voice trembling with tears: “It’s been five days. My husband has been bedridden, taking many medicines, but nothing helps... Other doctors have come, but none can identify the illness...”
Su Dafang listened attentively and entered the dim, windowless room.
In a corner lay a young man wrapped tightly in thick quilts, shivering. His face was pale, eye sockets sunken, lips darkening—a life hanging by a thread.
Su Dafang approached the bed, examined the man’s complexion, lifted his eyelids to look closely, then, with a grave expression, took his pulse.
After a moment, he turned to the woman and asked solemnly, “Are there any other symptoms? Tell me everything without hiding anything.”
The woman hesitated, embarrassed, but soon spoke up.
“Since my husband returned five days ago, he’s been talking in his sleep every night, then laughing loudly in his dreams. This has continued for five days...”
Su Dafang asked, “Do you remember what he says in his sleep?”
The woman blushed and replied, “I remember some. He always calls out ‘Beauty, beauty, I... I will kill you...’”
Su Dafang fell silent, lifted the quilt, and placed two fingers on either side of the man’s waist. After a brief examination, his expression darkened.
The woman panicked, voice trembling: “Doctor, what’s wrong with my husband?”
Su Dafang checked a little longer, covered the man again, then looked at the woman and asked, “Where was he five days ago?”
She answered, “To Cold Mountain Temple on the outskirts. He said he wanted to pay respects to the Buddha.”
“Cold Mountain Temple?”
Su Dafang was startled, then asked, “Did he go alone?”
She nodded.
Su Dafang frowned, deep in thought. Suddenly, he lifted the quilt again and pulled up the man’s clothes to reveal the abdomen.
Beneath his navel was a black spider-shaped mark!
The woman gasped in fright, voice trembling: “What... what is that? It wasn’t there before. I even cleaned him last night...”
Su Dafang frowned deeply, put down the quilt, and shook his head. “I’m very sorry, but this illness is beyond my ability.”
He then said to Luo Zijun, “Let’s go. We’re leaving.”
Hearing this, the woman fell to her knees, clutching Su Dafang’s leg tightly, crying, “Doctor, please, I beg you, save my husband! We have a three-year-old child at home. If he dies, what will become of us orphans and widows? Wuwu...”
Su Dafang sighed, “It’s not that I won’t help, but I have no solution.”
The woman wept harder while holding his leg.
Helpless, Su Dafang said, “Perhaps you should go to Cold Mountain Temple or Golden Mountain Temple. Pray to the monks there—maybe there’s still a chance.”
The woman looked up anxiously, “Really?”
Su Dafang nodded, “But you must hurry. Don’t delay.”
She wiped her tears, stood up, and said, “I’ll go right away!”
The three left together.
The woman hurried ahead and soon disappeared at the alley’s mouth.
Luo Zijun couldn’t help but ask, “Master, what illness does that man have? I don’t see any signs.”
Su Dafang shook his head, “We’ll talk about it later.”
Luo Zijun glanced at his face, feeling a sudden unease.
Golden Mountain Temple?
Isn’t that the temple where Fa Hai resides?