The pork butcher is smoother than a pig butcher!

Chapter 96 Dilapidated Temple in the Mountains
Itching means new flesh is growing inside the wound.

If it weren't for the fear that Zuo Wenkang would recover too quickly and cause unnecessary trouble.

Gan Minglan even hoped that he could recover from his injuries within three to five days.

Once the wound heals, I have to go back to work clearing the way.

Then I wouldn't have to stare at her all the time and be all lovey-dovey with her like I am now.

Just thinking about how that cheap man used to fawn over her gave her goosebumps all over.

Zuo Wenkang: What to do, what to do? All those tricks I learned in my past life for winning favor seem to be useless now!!!

But clearly, his wonderful wife is very susceptible to his chubby son's sweet talk!

The moment the little guy uttered that incredibly sweet, babyish voice, all the ice in his wife's eyes vanished!
He felt he was being treated differently.
On the third day after entering Qincen Mountain, the rocky terrain changed.

The officer shouted from the front, "Everyone, pay attention! We're about to cross a high mountain."

The mountains are indeed very high, with the main peak exceeding 1,500 meters in altitude.

Unlike the rocky layers, this mountain range is lush and green.

Wood-type ability users felt every pore on their body cheering with joy, and with each breath, they could absorb the faint essence of plants and trees.

She couldn't help but want to take a deep breath.

The others looked at the ancient mountain path, which was only about 1.2 meters wide, and felt uneasy.

The ancient path, stretching as far as the eye can see, is blocked from the sunlight by towering trees clinging to the cliff, making it look eerie and terrifying.

Before even entering the mountains, cold sweat broke out on my back.

One of the usually talkative officials looked around and then pointed at the highest mountain he could see:

"In the past, this would have been an excellent ambush site. We could have simply piled up large rocks on the mountain, let people into the ravine, and then started smashing them."

The two leaders couldn't stand it anymore and shouted angrily, "Shut up right now and clear the way!"

The mountain ravine was pitch black, with steep cliffs.

When you speak loudly, the echo can travel for a long time.

The voices just now seemed to have broken the tranquility of the forest.

Birdsong and insect chirping created a symphony.

The man who had cleared the way breathed a sigh of relief: "Birds are chirping! Birds are chirping!"

—The implication is that an ambush can be ruled out.

Don't they realize that their small group of exiled people is not worth anyone coming all this way to ambush?
As it turned out, there were indeed no ambushes on this unnamed mountain.

But halfway up the mountain, we saw a temple of the ancestral master hidden in the woods.

Perhaps because the location is too remote, few pilgrims come to ask questions.

The mountain path from the foot of the mountain to the halfway point was overgrown with weeds that were knee-high.

The group's state of mind was completely different from that of ordinary pilgrims.

Finally, we found a place where people might be seen!
I couldn't wait to step on the wild grass and go knock on the mountain gate.

Just when everyone's patience was about to run out, the mountain gate was finally opened.

An old Taoist priest, dressed in tattered robes and with a scraggly beard, walked shakily through the door.

His body was hunched over, his eyes were white, and he was so thin that he was skin and bones.

He was also holding the hand of another child, dressed in beggar's clothes, who looked to be about three or four years old and was a young Taoist priest.

The young Taoist priest had a big head and a radish-like face. He was immediately intimidated by the large group of unfamiliar worshippers.

He turned and hid behind the old Taoist priest, then after a while, he peeked out with half his head out, looking around curiously.

The leader surnamed Huang stepped forward and bowed with his hands clasped in a gesture of respect.

"Master, we are officials from Daming Prefecture. We are escorting exiled prisoners to the border city and are passing through your esteemed place. We wish to offer incense to our ancestral master and pray for his protection on our safe journey!"

"Amitabha Buddha, please come inside, all benefactors!"

The blind old Taoist priest had probably not seen any worshippers for a long time; his hands trembled, and his voice was filled with obvious excitement and agitation.

He had the young Taoist priest lead the way for the pilgrims.

But an embarrassing scene immediately followed.

The two, young and old, walked along, their stomachs growling loudly the whole way. The noise was so loud that those behind them couldn't ignore it.

The two leaders felt a pang of sympathy for the blind Taoist priest and couldn't help but ask:

"Master, have you encountered some difficulties?"

The old Taoist priest rubbed his belly and smiled bitterly:

"Please forgive me, esteemed benefactors! My eldest disciple has been away buying rice and grain for several days and has not returned. My junior disciple and I have been without food for five or six days."

The old ones are blind, and the young ones aren't even as tall as the stove; it's truly not easy.

When everyone entered the Ancestral Temple, they realized just how bad the situation was.

Apart from the main hall where Laozi, the founder of Taoism, is enshrined, it can be considered barely intact.

The side hall and the courtyard where the old Taoist priest and others lived were all leaking on one side.

The dampness inside the house had not yet dissipated.

Fungi have even grown on some wooden furniture.

The old and young Taoist priests now share the main hall with their ancestor.

Recalling the recent uprising of displaced people in Nanhe Prefecture, everyone was worried for the old Taoist's eldest disciple.

If they hadn't come, the master and his apprentice might have starved to death in front of their ancestor.

The two officers also wanted to inquire about the situation at Qincen Mountain.

After offering incense to the ancestral master, they immediately arranged for Mrs. She and others to cook for the master and his disciple.

There wasn't much good food to cook; the only thing they could offer was mixed grain noodles.

So I simply boiled a small pot of mixed grain porridge with hot water.

It was stirred into a sesame paste consistency and some salt was added.

The old Taoist priest was indeed old and steady; even when he was starving, he could still barely maintain his eating manners.

The young Taoist priest hugged a bowl that was as big as his head, burying his head inside it.

The children watching him eat were all incredibly envious.

Gan Minglan: She's got the makings of a mukbang streamer!

Seeing the pitiful sight of him licking the bowl clean after finishing his meal, Fatty gave the little boy the malt candy he had saved from his own mouth that day, which he had originally intended to give to Tangtang.

"Little brother, here's some candy for you! Candy tastes even better than porridge."

The young Taoist priest paused in his licking of the alms bowl, his face covered in smears, and he lifted his head from the bowl hesitantly: "What's sugar?"

Upon hearing that the other person had never even eaten candy, Fatty stuffed a maltose block into his mouth without saying a word.

The young Taoist priest's taste buds were quickly won over by the sweetness.

"Mmm, so sweet!"

He squinted, looking quite pleased, and let the maltose linger in his mouth for more than ten breaths.

Suddenly, he vomited again.

Everyone saw him carefully carrying a piece of malt candy, about the size of a fingernail and softened by his licking, in his small, dark hands, and walk up to the old Taoist priest.

Then, with practiced ease, he stuffed the maltose into the old Taoist's mouth.

"Uh"

It's a little disgusting, but also a little touching.

Hard to comment.

The old Taoist priest was almost choked by his young apprentice's filial piety.

After tasting the flavor of maltose, I was both amused and exasperated.

"Yuantong, which kind benefactor gave you this? Only children eat candy. Your master is old and can't appreciate its flavor anymore. You can have it yourself."

The young Taoist priest wouldn't listen and stubbornly covered the old Taoist priest's mouth with his little black hand, preventing him from spitting it out.

The old Taoist priest felt a pang of sorrow:
"Yuantong, don't be afraid. Benefactor Huang and the others said they would donate fifty catties of mixed grain flour to us. We can definitely hold out until your senior brother returns."

(End of this chapter)