Dao Qi Wu Zang Guan Guan: I became a Daoist Master in the 1990s

Chapter 100 Human Suffering, Returning the Object to Its Rightful Owner

Qi Yun haphazardly shoved the van into a gap on the side of the road, then pushed open the door and got out.

Feeling hungry, he walked toward a small noodle stall with a canvas awning across the street.

"Boss, a bowl of Dan Dan noodles, extra chili oil."

"Okay!" The owner, a thin old man, deftly grabbed the noodles and put them into the pot. Bright red chili oil, fragrant meat sauce, and bright green scallions and pickled mustard greens piled up in the rough porcelain bowl, creating an enticing array of colors.

The piping hot noodles were poured over it, and with a sizzle, the aroma exploded.

Qi Yun picked up his bowl and sat down on the curb.

The plastic stool was uncomfortable, but he didn't care and buried his head in his mouth, slurping.

After finishing a bowl of noodles, he felt warm all over. He put down the bowl and looked up at the sky.

The last rays of the setting sun sank behind the western buildings, and the sky changed from a magnificent purplish-gray to a deep, inky blue.

A few wisps of thin clouds were tinged with an ambiguous dark red by the city lights, like congealed blood vessels.

The evening breeze, carrying the dampness of the river, brushed against Qi Yun's cheeks. He felt the murderous aura surging in his chest from the day's killings being gradually washed away and soothed by the vast sky and the cool night breeze.

Even the exhaustion from last night's fierce battle against the demons seemed to be quietly wiped away by this moment of emptiness, leaving my mind clear and serene.

"Waaah...waaah!" A suppressed sob came from the side.

Qi Yun glanced sideways.

At the next table, a young man was burying his head in his hands, his shoulders heaving violently, large tears falling into the almost untouched bowl of plain noodles in front of him.

The sobs quickly turned into uncontrollable wailing, drawing the attention of the surrounding diners.

The noodle stall owner sighed, took the thermos over, silently poured a cup of hot water and placed it next to the young man, then gave Qi Yun a "mind your own business" look and whispered.

"Young man, don't look anymore. This kind of thing happens every day at the hospital entrance. Either the family has just passed away, or they can't afford treatment... I can't help them, I can't help them."

Qi Yun smiled at the boss, indicating that it was alright, and got up to sit down at the young man's table.

"Brother, what's wrong? Why are you crying so sadly?" Qi Yun said in broken Chongqing dialect.

The young man suddenly looked up, his bloodshot eyes filled with despair and helplessness.

"My...my mom! She got hit by a car this afternoon! That damn driver sped off!"

The person was brought here, and the doctor said surgery is needed tonight! It will cost four thousand five hundred!

I couldn't raise the money even if I sold everything I owned!

I absolutely... I absolutely!

He became increasingly agitated as he spoke, and then raised his hand to slap himself hard across the face, shouting, "I'm useless! I'm unfilial!"

A palm the size of a fan slammed down heavily on my cheek with a whooshing sound.

Just as the second strike was about to land.

A steady, powerful hand clamped down on his wrist with lightning speed, remaining completely still.

"Don't hit yourself," Qi Yun said calmly. "How much worse?"

"Three thousand five! Three thousand five!" the young man roared, tears and snot streaming down his face.

The owner, standing to the side, shook his head helplessly, with an expression that said, "See? I told you so," and turned to clear the dishes.

Qi Yun remained silent for a moment, then got up and walked away.

The young man lowered his head in despair, clutching his greasy hair tightly with both hands.

A crazy idea began to grow and swell in his mind: I'll steal and rob! I have to get money tonight!
Just then, a heavy bag slammed onto the greasy little table in front of him with a "thud".

The bag was open, revealing a thick stack of brand-new hundred-yuan bills inside.

"Here, five thousand yuan. Go pay the bill quickly."

The young man looked up in astonishment, only to see Qi Yun's back already turned and leaving, blending into the surging crowd under the dim yellow lights at the hospital entrance.

"Crash!" The bowl and plate in the boss's hand fell to the ground, shattering into pieces.

He stared dumbfounded at the bag of money, then pinched his thigh hard, wincing in pain: "Good heavens! Did I really...did I run into a living Buddha?"

The young man suddenly awoke, grabbed his money bag, rushed forward a few steps like a madman, and knelt down in front of Qi Yun with a thud, his forehead hitting the cold cement floor heavily: "Benefactor! My life is now yours! I will repay you by serving you like a slave!"

Qi Yun, however, kept walking and simply went around it.

"This money comes from the people and is used for the people."

I don't need you to work like a slave to repay me.

Just remember today, and if you encounter someone in trouble in the future, lend a helping hand if you can; that will be your way of thanking me.

Li Qiang shuddered, then kowtowed three more times in that direction, his forehead turning blue and red.

Qi Yun's figure had already glided into the hospital's main building like a swimming fish.

Even at night, the place is still bustling with people.

Long queues formed at the registration desk, and the benches were filled with tired and anxious faces. The pungent smell of disinfectant mixed with the smell of medicine permeated every corner.

The incandescent light bulb emitted a low, humming sound, casting a bleak glow on the green wainscoting and gray-white floor.

He avoided the crowds and, following Wang Dashan's description, found the staircase leading to the basement.

The further down you go, the fewer people there are, the dimmer the lights become, and a cold, damp atmosphere mixed with formaldehyde and underground dust silently spreads out.

Pushing open a heavy, peeling iron door at the end of the stairs, a straight, narrow, and deathly quiet corridor came into view.

The stark white light shone down from the sparse overhead tubes, illuminating the fine dust particles floating in the air.

At the end of the corridor, a heavy metal door painted a dark green was tightly closed, with a faded plastic sign above it that read: "Morgue".

The door is locked.

Qi Yun's eyes narrowed, and he drew a longsword wrapped in newspaper from the canvas bag behind him. With a slight tremor of his wrist, the newspaper tore to shreds. He ran his fingers along the spine of the sword, and a wisp of dark red fire instantly coiled around the blade.

"clang!"

The sword tip struck the lock cylinder precisely. A dull cracking sound rang out, and the bolt snapped open.

Qi Yun silently pushed open the door and slipped inside, then closed it slightly behind her.

The chill instantly enveloped my entire body, several times more intense than in the corridor.

A huge refrigeration unit emitted a continuous, low hum from the corner.

Rows of huge stainless steel freezers, their drawers tightly closed, resemble silent coffins.

Several gurneys were placed in the center, with corpses lying on them, covered with sheets.

Upon entering this place, Jiang Shou Danwan suddenly jumped!
A cold, viscous aura, like that seeping from the depths of an ancient tomb, lingered stubbornly near a freezer drawer on the innermost side of the wall.

Qi Yun held his breath, his long sword pointing diagonally at the ground. He moved silently, stepping on the cold, smooth terrazzo floor, and approached the source of the chilling place step by step.

He landed on his feet and slapped the freezer with his left hand!

"Clang-crack-!"

The heavy metal drawer sprang open, and a burst of cold white vapor instantly escaped.

Qi Yun's eyes flashed with a cold light, his longsword hummed, and dark red flames coiled around its blade.
The sword's momentum froze in mid-air.

However, the drawer was completely empty!
Only a faint, eerie aura, much thinner than that emanating from Wang Dashan, wafted out like a disturbed snake.

"Empty?" Qi Yun frowned, his heart sinking. "They've already left? This is troublesome..."

With a flick of his wrist, he pointed his longsword toward the inside of the drawer.

A flash of dark red fire appeared at the tip of the sword, and with a soft hissing sound, the remaining faint ghostly energy melted away like ice and snow, instantly incinerated by the domineering fire intent.

A faint but pure stream of heat flowed along the sword and returned to the Crimson Hunting Fire Pill, making the pill seem to spin a little faster.

"Looks like we'll have to stay in this mountain town for a few more days!"

As Qi Yun was pondering his next move, his ear suddenly twitched.

Outside in the corridor, the heavy iron door was pushed open and closed, making a dull echo.

Extremely faint yet unusually swift footsteps were approaching from afar, heading towards the morgue entrance!

(End of this chapter)