Wild cultivation begins with wielding the Taiyin talisman.

No one answered this question; the only person who could have spoken up was now silent.

The old man tried to stand up by supporting himself on the edge of the bed, but his right leg wouldn't obey him, and he fell off the bed as soon as he got off.

Old Qian quickly stepped forward to help him, but Song Changgeng pushed Old Qian away and half-crawled and half-moved to Chen Mu's side, reaching out to touch that withered face.

His hand trembled violently, yet it fell very gently.

Ning Che could only watch quietly; at this moment, he didn't know what he could say.

After a long time, the old man said something.

"How did you get so thin?"

Zhao He turned around.

Lin Ye muttered a curse under his breath, then swallowed the rest of the sentence.

Ning Che put Chen Mu down and let him lean against the bedside.

Then he took the bag of medicine from Zhao He and placed it in front of Song Changgeng.

"He brought this for you."

Song Changgeng stared at the medicine bag, not moving for a long time.

The cloth bag was old and faded, with the edges stitched twice, the stitches crooked and uneven. There wasn't much medicine inside, but it was something Chen Mu had carefully brought back from the mountains.

The old man hugged the medicine bag to his chest and pressed it against his forehead.

It's like holding a child who can still call you "Master".

No one inside urged them on; the noise from the front hall seemed distant, faint and indistinct.

After a long while, Song Changgeng looked up.

His eyes were cloudy, but they didn't clear.

"How did he die?"

Ning Che stated frankly, "He died fighting the demon in the rat swamp, but the story behind it is very complicated and may involve the interests of some people."

Song Changgeng nodded.

"It's something he would do."

As he spoke, he took two deep breaths and then looked at Zhou Huaili.

"Get out."

Zhou Huaili frowned: "Song Changgeng, don't forget that the medicine you're taking and the house you're living in are all provided by Huichuntang."

"go out."

"you--"

Song Changgeng took out a black wooden plaque from his pocket.

The wooden plaque was small, with worn edges, and an ancient character was engraved on it. Ning Che didn't recognize it, but he saw Zhou Huaili take half a step back.

When Mr. Qian saw the wooden sign, his eyes immediately reddened.

"Sect nameplate..."

Song Changgeng raised his head.

"Huichuntang is a family heirloom passed down through my lineage. You've been managing it for three years; have you really treated it as your own private property?"

Zhou Huaili did not retort.

He stared at the wooden sign, his temple twitching.

Song Changgeng continued, "Back then, when I broke my leg and couldn't take charge, I had your Zhou family manage it temporarily as a matter of emergency, not to sell out the family. I didn't agree to Chen Mu being expelled, and you have no right to dismiss my disciple."

Zhou Huaili gritted his teeth: "It's too late for you to say this now."

Ning Che stepped forward: "Whether it's too late or not is not up to you."

Zhou Huaili was forced to retreat by his imposing manner.

Song Changgeng looked at Ning Che: "Your name is Xing?"

"Yes."

"Chen Muxin mentioned you. He said there's a man in the mountains who isn't good with words but is very responsible. He's willing to recognize you as his elder brother and work together on some projects."

Song Changgeng handed over the wooden plaque.

"Take this. There's still a batch of medicine in the old pharmacy in the south of the city that I hid back then. You'll need it if you set up a free clinic."

Enraged by this, Zhou Huaili disregarded everything else and stepped forward again: "Song Changgeng, you're a traitor!"

This time, it was Old Qian who stood in front of him.

The old man was short and hunched over, but he didn't move aside when he stood there.

"Manager Zhou, that's enough. The person is about to die, and you're still scheming about the medicine warehouse. You have no shame, but you should at least have some decency."

A young apprentice at the door lowered his head, trying not to laugh.

Zhou Huaili turned around and glared at him, and the medicine boy quickly looked down at the ground.

Song Changgeng didn't look at Zhou Huaili, but only said to Ning Che, "The old medicine warehouse in the south of the city hasn't been opened for many years. The key is with Old Qian. Let him choose how many medicinal herbs are needed. Burn the unusable ones, don't harm people."

Mr. Qian responded.

Ning Che accepted the wooden plaque.

The wooden plaque felt heavy in my hand, and the edges dug into my palm.

Thank you.

Song Changgeng pressed down on the bag of medicine and said in a low voice, "I'm not giving you medicine for nothing."

Ning Che nodded: "Please go ahead."

Song Changgeng said, word by word, "Take me to the Shi family."

A breeze was blowing in from outside, and the dried herbs under the eaves rustled together.

Zhou Huaili's expression suddenly changed, becoming somewhat anxious: "Are you crazy? Do you still want this leg? The Shi family—that's the Shi family, how could they…"

"This leg is no longer mine."

Song Changgeng interrupted him.

The old man held the medicine bag that Chen Mu had brought back and looked up.

"Back then, they interrupted it, saying I broke the rules. Now, my apprentice has returned. I should ask them, is their rule greater, or is justice in this world greater?"

Ning Che knew this trip would likely be extremely dangerous. The Shi family was a century-old clan in the city; even if they didn't have a sixth-rank cultivator, they would certainly have a seventh-rank one. But he didn't mention these concerns, simply saying, "Then I'll take you there."

"No rush, let's go and run your free clinic first. When the free clinic is over, take me there, remember that." The old man waved his hand and then coughed violently again.

"I remember," Ning Che replied.

Zhou Huaili sneered from the side: "You really think you can get it done?"

Ning Che ignored him and only looked at Old Qian: "Where is the old medicine warehouse in the south of the city?"

Mr. Qian took out a black copper key from his sleeve.

The key is old, and the teeth are worn uneven.

Ning Che nodded: "Let's go."

Zhou Huaili retreated with a gloomy expression.

This phrase is more effective than insults.

When Ning Che turned around, Lin Ye had already picked Chen Mu up again.

Zhao He stood beside him, his hand on the hilt of his knife, ready to fight anyone who dared to glance at Chen Mu.

Lin Caiwei walked to Ning Che's side and reached out to tug at his sleeve.

Ning Che lowered his head.

She looked up at him and asked, "Uncle, what is a free clinic?"

"It's about treating patients, but it's free."

"Will a lot of people come?"

"Probably."

"If the illness is cured, will the person not die?"

Ning Che paused for a moment, then shook his head: "No."

"Then why bother with treatment at all?"

Ning Che pondered for a moment before explaining, "There are actually many reasons, such as relieving people's suffering or prolonging their lives. It's like... well, one piece of meat will be finished, and ten pieces will also be finished, but ten pieces are still more than one piece of meat."

Lin Caiwei nodded, as if she had remembered something very important.

As they spoke, the group arrived at the medicine warehouse.

It was located at the end of a narrow alley, with rotten baskets and broken tiles piled up in front of the door, and moss climbing all over the walls. If it weren't for Old Qian leading the way, Ning Che would have thought it was an abandoned courtyard.

Mr. Qian stepped forward and unlocked the door.

The door hinge made a long thud.

A musty, stale medicinal smell wafted out.

Lin Ye covered his nose: "This smell is so strong, even a rat would need a prescription if it went in."

Old Qian glared at him: "What do you know? This is the smell of medicine."

Zhao He whispered, "It smells strongly of medicine."

Old Qian was too lazy to scold him, so he took the lamp and went inside.

Rows of wooden shelves stood in the warehouse, many of the medicine packets were rotten, and the herbs had turned into black clumps. Some of the earthenware urns were well sealed, the mud seal was intact, and the labels were still clear.

Old Qian picked up a jar, smelled it, and his eyes lit up.

"Honeysuckle vine, it's usable."

Another jar was opened.

"The root of the bitter rhizome can also be used."

Let's open another box.

He was silent.

At the bottom of the box were not medicines, but stacks of booklets, the paper already yellowed.

When Mr. Qian turned to the first page, his expression changed.

Ning Che leaned closer to look and saw that it contained the old year's medicinal herb field lease agreements, the quantity of medicinal herbs stored, and a series of loan records. However, there were some that they couldn't find any records of repayment even after quickly flipping through the ledger.

Among them, Shijiazhuang is the main one.

The Shi family borrowed thirty mu of Dongpo's medicinal herb fields.

Shijia is responsible for collecting drug taxes from farmers in Nanqu.

The Shi family, under the pretext of protecting their fields, seized seven medicine carts belonging to Huichuntang.

……

Mr. Qian sighed, "I've never seen these things before."