Chapter 180 Rivers, Lakes, and Seas

The warm early winter sun shone through the newly renovated Taoyuan Traditional Chinese Medicine Clinic, the aroma of medicinal herbs lingering in the light. The interior has more than tripled in size, and the rustic wooden medicine cabinets gleam with a warm luster. In the newly renovated treatment rooms, the warm aroma of moxibustion blends with the incense of sandalwood, creating a tranquil atmosphere.

"Grandpa Qin, why is this 'Danggui' called Danggui?" A young tourist from another place wearing a fisherman's hat and carrying a backpack was asking curiously at the Chinese medicine counter.

Professor Qin Yi, who was sitting in the hall, pushed his reading glasses and smiled kindly. "The ancients believed that this herb could guide blood back to its meridians, and was particularly effective in treating menstrual disorders in women. It has the meaning of 'longing for a husband to return,' hence the name 'Danggui.'" He casually picked up a piece of angelica and handed it to the young man. "Smell it. Doesn't it have a unique aroma? We grow this in our own back mountain. It's more potent than others."

The young man took it, sniffed it carefully, and nodded repeatedly. Then he pointed to the exquisite small porcelain bottle next to it, labeled "Taoyuan Specialty," and asked, "What about this calming sachet? Does it also use medicinal herbs from the mountains?"

"Yes," the person who took over was Li Mingyuan, an apprentice who was already able to work on his own. He is now one of the persons in charge of giving external explanations at the TCM clinic. "The bark of Albizia Julibrissin and lavender in it are all grown by us, and the preparation method is also based on ancient methods. Many tourists who bought them said that their sleep has improved a lot." There was pride in his words.

Such conversations are now commonplace in TCM clinics. A constant stream of visitors come not only for treatment but also as a chance to experience traditional Chinese medicine. A special "Chinese Medicine Culture Corner" displays pharmacy tools and medicinal specimens, with Li Mingyuan and several articulate apprentices taking turns explaining the techniques.

At that moment, Xia Wu was visiting the cultural corner with Shao Yun, who was in charge of foreign trade. Shao Yun, dressed in a sharp suit, formed a subtle contrast with the museum's rustic atmosphere, yet also a strange harmony.

"Mr. Qin, Doctor Li," Shao Yun greeted with a smile, then turned to Xia Wu. "Mr. Xia, I went to Europe to attend an exhibition this time and brought some of our calming sachets and foot bath medicated bags as small gifts. I didn't expect the response to be so good. Several high-end spa and health management companies were particularly interested."

Li Mingyuan's eyes lit up: "Can they accept the taste of Chinese medicine?"

Shao Yun smiled and said, "At first, they were indeed apprehensive. But I explained to them the principles and efficacy of the herbal compatibility, and emphasized that we cultivate the herbs ecologically and prepare them using traditional methods. After trying them, they said the experience was unique and the relaxation effect was noticeable. The Italian client, in particular, said our moxa sticks felt very pure."

Professor Qin twirled his beard and nodded. "What makes a medicine a medicine is its nature, not just its taste. It's accepted because they sense its righteousness."

"So, I have an idea," Shao Yun said seriously. "Relying solely on exporting products will have limited impact. I want to bring in a professional documentary team and overseas media to film our clinic, the medicinal herb plantations in the mountains behind us, and people like Mr. Qin and Doctor Li who uphold the tradition. Not a promotional film, but a true record, telling the stories of people, herbs, and traditional wisdom. This is more persuasive than any advertisement."

Xia Wu looked at the fascinated tourists in the cultural corner and nodded. "That's a good idea. Let the outside world see that our traditional Chinese medicine is not just a cold commodity. Behind it is the land, the heritage, and the living people who protect it. Sister Yun, where do you think we should start?"

"How about starting with 'Danggui'?" Shao Yun obviously had a plan in mind. "The name has a story, the efficacy is representative, and it can be connected to mountain planting and processing technology. We can follow Mr. Qin up the mountain to identify medicinal herbs, record the process of Doctor Li preparing Danggui, and then interview several patients who have effectively used Danggui to regulate their bodies. Of course, we have to get their consent." She had clear ideas and was obviously thoughtful.

Li Mingyuan was a little excited, but also a little nervous: "Is it going to be on foreign TV? I...I have to pick up my English again!"

Everyone laughed. Professor Qin patted him on the shoulder and said, "Don't be nervous. Just keep calm. How you treat medicinal herbs and how you treat patients—honesty is the best way to express yourself."

A few days later, a small, capable documentary film crew arrived in Donghua Town. The director, a young man passionate about traditional culture, didn't make a big fuss. Instead, he followed Professor Qin and Li Mingyuan like a friend, watching them inspect the growth of medicinal herbs in the morning mist, meticulously prepare them in the pharmacy, and patiently examine, smell, and diagnose each patient.

The camera captures the cherishment in Professor Qin's eyes as he caresses a wild astragalus root, the sweat on Li Mingyuan's forehead as he prepares a paste, and the relaxed smile on a patient's face during a follow-up visit. There's no deliberate sentimentality, only the simple daily life and the warmth that flows through it.

Shao Yun was busy communicating with the team to ensure the filming content was both professional and understandable to international audiences. She even brought in a foreign consultant versed in Chinese culture to help polish the narration, so that concepts like "qi" and "yin and yang" could be presented in a way that was more in line with Western thinking.

During the break in filming, the director, Xia Wu and Shao Yun sat in the backyard of the clinic drinking tea.

"I really didn't expect it," the director said with emotion. "Here, Chinese medicine isn't just a museum exhibit. It's a living, breathing, growing practice. Elder Qin and Doctor Li, they possess a kind of... well, quiet power."

Xia Wu refilled the director's tea and said with a smile, "Because they believe they are doing the right thing. The land won't lie, the herbs won't lie, and the patients' feedback won't lie."

Shao Yun added: "What we want to show the world is the power of belief. It's not mysticism, but wisdom based on thousands of years of practice and gifts from nature."

The documentary is still in post-production, but its impact is already evident. Shao Yun used behind-the-scenes footage and other materials to promote the film on overseas social media, attracting a growing number of people interested in natural therapies and Eastern philosophy. The Taoyuan Chinese Medicine Clinic's website has seen a surge in traffic and numerous inquiries in foreign languages.

Besides treating patients and mentoring apprentices, Li Mingyuan now has a new job: answering emails. Wearing headphones, he consults a dictionary while diligently responding to inquiries in English about the cultivation and efficacy of medicinal herbs. His response is slow, but incredibly thorough.

Professor Qin looked at his apprentice's busy and fulfilling figure and said to Xia Wu, who was helping him sort the herbs, "It seems that the fragrance of this medicine is really going to spread far away."

Xia Wu lowered her head and sniffed the dried chrysanthemums in her hand. The fragrance was refreshing and refreshing. "Yes, the farther you fly, the deeper your roots must be."

In early spring in Donghua Town, the air still held a chill, but the sun had already warmed. A young man, tanned and carrying a large backpack, was snapping away in the square outside the Taoyuan supermarket, his camera in hand. He wore well-worn hiking boots, his trouser legs stained with mud, but his eyes were bright and full of curiosity.

"Hey, this mugwort cake is amazing!" He leaned against a wooden bench in the square, took a bite of the cake he had just bought from the supermarket, and spoke to a local man basking in the sun next to him. His accent was a bit crisp and northern, "Uncle, your town is really well done! I've traveled so many places, but I've rarely seen such a vibrant and comfortable countryside."

The old man was Uncle Chen, now an advisor to the community self-government committee. He looked at the young man with a smile and said, "Young man, are you out playing alone?"

"Yes, my name is Lin Feng, and I'm a hiking enthusiast." The young man, Lin Feng, wiped his mouth and said excitedly, "I walked all the way down from the north and saw a lot of places. To be honest, I feel a bit uncomfortable."

Xia Wu had just come out of Shangchao and was about to go to the Chinese medicine clinic. When she heard this, she paused slightly. Lin Feng's dusty yet vibrant aura made her curious.

Lin Feng didn't notice Xia Wu and continued to sigh to Uncle Chen: "There are so many small villages in the mountains, the scenery is so beautiful, and the people are really simple, but they are just... too poor. All the young people have run away, and only the old people and children are left. It makes me sad to see them. I have to walk several miles to buy a bottle of water. Like your place, with industry, popularity, and good planning, it's really... rare!" His tone was full of sincere admiration, but also with a hint of imperceptible regret.

Xia Wu walked over, sat down at the other end of the bench, and said with a smile: "Yes, we also groped our way through, little by little, to become what we are today." Her tone was calm, as if she was chatting about family matters.

Seeing a young woman who looked like a local, Lin Feng opened up even more. "Sister, you don't know. I passed by a place called 'Wangyupo' last month. It was truly... picturesque, but even the village can barely keep a small shop open. The elderly people just tend to their few acres of thin fields or dig up some mountain products, but they can't sell them for a good price." He shook his head and took a big bite of the mugwort cake. "If they could do something special like you guys, even if it's just growing something delicious or like this," he shook the cake in his hand, "making some local specialties, it wouldn't be like this."

"Wangyupo..." Xia Wu pondered for a moment, "Are there many mountains over there?"

"A lot! It's all sloping land, not suitable for growing crops, but I see weeds growing quite vigorously." Lin Feng said, and took out a sealed bag from his bag, which contained some dried plant specimens. "Here, I also collected some plant specimens, and there seems to be mugwort in it. There are a lot of them growing on the slopes by the river there, and no one cares about them."

Xia Wu took the sealed bag, looked at it carefully, and then leaned in to smell the scent of the dried plant. His eyes moved slightly. At this time, Professor Qin and Li Mingyuan happened to be walking over from the Chinese medicine clinic.

"Mr. Qin, Doctor Li, come and take a look at this." Xia Wu handed over the sealed bag.

Li Mingyuan took it and looked at it, then said with certainty: "It is mugwort, and the quality looks pretty good."

Professor Qin nodded. "Mugwort is easy to grow and can grow on hillsides or by rivers. The whole plant is used as medicine to warm the meridians, stop bleeding, dispel cold and relieve pain. It has many uses. We have always consumed a lot of moxa sticks and moxa cones in our museum."

Lin Feng listened to their conversation, his eyes becoming brighter and brighter.

Xia Wu looked at Lin Feng, his tone still calm. "Lin Feng, what do you think? If a village like Wangyupo is willing to grow mugwort, and we teach them how to harvest it, how to dry it, and how to make it into sticks and cones, and then we buy it according to the standard, do you think it would work?"

Lin Feng was stunned, then nodded vigorously, almost choking on his cake, and quickly gulped down his mouthful of water: "Alright! That's great! Sister, are you serious? This... is this possible?"

"Let's give it a try." Xia Wu smiled. "Mugwort is not difficult to grow. The technical requirements are not high. The elderly and children can participate in some simple care and harvesting. The key is to achieve scale and ensure quality. We provide seedlings, technology, and purchase, and they provide the land and labor. Even if the quantity is small at the beginning, it can supplement the family income."

Zhou Qianqian happened to be passing by and overheard a few words, then interjected, "Mugwort can be used to make food! Our food factory has tried mugwort green rice dumplings before, and they sold quite well. If they grow more, we could consider harvesting them for use as raw materials."

Lin Feng felt like he was dreaming as he watched these people, seemingly about to make something big happen with just a few words. "I... I'll talk to the village elder next time I go to Wangyupo! I have his phone number!" he said excitedly.

"Don't worry," Xia Wu said gently. "You should get some rest first and spend two days in town. We still need to work out the specific details of our cooperation, such as how to transport the seedlings, how to provide technical guidance, and how to set quality standards and purchase prices. These matters must be implemented in a practical manner."

Lin Feng looked at Xia Wu, then at Professor Qin, Li Mingyuan, and Zhou Qianqian, all of whom looked on with approval. A warm feeling welled up in his heart. He had traveled so many places, witnessed so much helplessness and stagnation, but here, he felt a practical and warm feeling of problem-solving and helping others.

"Sister, it's so nice here," he said sincerely.

The mornings in Donghua Town always carry a moist, fresh air, a blend of grass, trees, and earth. Before daybreak, a thin, veiled mist envelopes the waking town.

At this time, a unique figure appeared in the square in front of Taoyuan Supermarket.

She was a girl in her early twenties, tall and sturdy, like a vibrant young poplar. She wore a sharp dark blue tracksuit, her long black hair tied high in a ponytail, bouncing lively behind her head as she moved. Her face wasn't particularly beautiful, but her features were clear and bright, her eyes clear and bright, revealing an indescribable spirit.

The girl's name is Zhong Ling.

Ignoring the occasional curious glance from the early morning walkers, she chose a relatively open, flat area in the center of the square. She stood still, lowered her shoulders and elbows, took a deep breath, and then slowly began to move. Her movements began as gentle and slow as flowing water, gradually creating a rustling sound. Her punches and kicks were sometimes fluid, sometimes forceful and powerful, her movements shifting and twisting in a harmonious balance of movement and stillness. She seemed to become one with the morning light and the mist. Her figure, imbued with power and beauty, quietly pierced the morning's tranquility, attracting the attention of elderly people strolling or shopping for groceries.

For several days, the girl named Zhong Ling would appear at the square on time, rain or shine. She practiced her craft, never actively engaging in conversation, her expression focused, as if lost in her own world. But gradually, things around her began to change.

First, a few old men and women who were used to doing morning exercises watched from a distance and discussed privately:

"This girl, is she really practicing Kung Fu? Look at her posture, it's different from those soft ones in the park."

"Looking so energetic! I wish I could move my legs like this with my old cold legs."

Later, a brave old man began to imitate her next to her, but his movements were naturally crooked.

Zhong Ling noticed this. After finishing her routine, she stood still, her breathing steady. She walked over to the elderly woman who was struggling to imitate the movements. Without offering any sermons, she simply smiled and said in a clear voice, "Grandma, you're raising your arm too high. Your shoulders are sore. Come, let me adjust it. Is this more comfortable?" She reached over and gently adjusted the elderly woman's arm, her movements gentle and professional.

The old lady nodded repeatedly in surprise: "Oh, I feel much better! Girl, you are so kind!"

From that day on, Zhong Ling would set aside more than ten minutes after her boxing practice to teach interested elderly people a few simple exercises to relax their muscles and bones, such as "Lifting Hands to the Sky to Regulate the Three Burners" and "Drawing the Bow Left and Right Like Shooting an Eagle," modified exercises suitable for the elderly. She taught patiently and in simple, engaging language: "Imagine yourself as a tree, with your feet firmly planted in the ground like roots..."

The news spread like wildfire, and the square became increasingly lively in the early morning. More and more elderly people and children joined the morning exercise group. Children imitated Zhong Ling's movements, their postures comical but enthusiastic. Elderly people, under her guidance, slowly loosened their stiff bodies, their faces filled with relaxed smiles. A corner of the square had become a vibrant open-air fitness corner.

That morning, Xia Wu, who rarely gets up early, took her little Jinyue for a walk in the square. They saw this lively scene from afar. Little Jinyue was immediately drawn in, pointing over there: "Mom, look! So many grandparents are learning to dance with that girl!"

Xia Wu took a closer look and couldn't help but smile. It wasn't dancing, but the vibrant energy was more moving than dancing.

Zhong Ling had just finished instructing an elderly man on how to properly turn his waist when she turned around and saw Xia Wu and Xiao Jinyue standing nearby, smiling. She recognized Xia Wu; during her time in Donghua Town, she had heard many stories about this creator of "Peach Blossom Land." She wiped the sweat from her brow and walked over with grace.

"Hello, Sister Xia Wu, my name is Zhong Ling." She stretched out her hand, smiling brightly with the straightforwardness of a martial artist.

Xia Wu shook her hand, feeling the light calluses on her palm, yet it was warm and strong. "Hello, I've seen you leading everyone in morning exercises for many days now, and the results are really good."

Zhong Ling scratched the tip of her nose a bit embarrassedly. "I just practice on my own. It's fun for everyone to watch and follow along. I'm happy to help everyone stretch their muscles." She glanced at little Jin Yue, who was looking up at her curiously, then squatted down to look her in the eye. "Little girl, do you want to learn?"

Xiao Jin nodded vigorously.

Xia Wu looked into Zhong Ling's bright and honest eyes and asked, "Do you plan to stay in Donghua Town forever?"

Zhong Ling stood up, her eyes sweeping over the elderly and children still practicing diligently in the square, then looking towards the misty mountains in the distance, her tone firmer. "Yes! I want to stay. This place... is great. Beautiful mountains, beautiful water, and wonderful people. My family has been practicing martial arts for generations, but by my generation, none of my brothers or sisters wanted to learn. I don't want this tradition to end in my hands." She looked at Xia Wu, her eyes filled with anticipation and a hint of subtle nervousness. "Sister Xia Wu, I want to open a martial arts school in town. It won't be big, but I'll teach some basic physical fitness techniques, as well as health-preserving exercises suitable for the elderly and children. What do you think... is it okay?"

Xia Wu barely hesitated. She admired young people with special skills willing to settle down. Donghua Town needed vitality, a more diverse culture, and this kind of active and healthy lifestyle.

"Of course." Xia Wu smiled. "There seems to be an empty shop facing the street at the east end of the town. It's not big, but it has a small yard, which should be suitable for practicing. If you need it, I can ask for you."

Zhong Ling's eyes instantly lit up, her joy evident in her words: "Really? Thank you so much, Sister Xia Wu!"

"No need to thank me," Xia Wu waved her hand, "Taoyuan has become a better place because of you all."

The shop with a small courtyard that Zhong Ling had her eye on was quickly negotiated. The location wasn't the best, being a bit secluded, but it was quiet. The old locust tree in the courtyard was lush and leafy, casting a cool breeze—perfect for summer martial arts practice. Thanks to Xia Wu's help, the rent was also quite reasonable.

In the days that followed, Zhong Ling busied herself like a squirrel. She didn't hire a renovation team, doing most of the work herself. She cleaned the floors, patched the walls, and revarnished the wooden doors and windows. She worked quickly and sturdily, easily carrying lumber and bricks. Neighbors would often see her resting on the doorstep, dusty and dusty, gulping down water from a large enamel jug. Her hair was matted to her face by sweat, but her eyes sparkled as she watched the courtyard gradually become neater.

She had written the martial arts school sign herself. The powerful, bold characters "Zhong's Martial Arts School" were carved into an old wooden board, exuding a sense of rusticity and strength. The interior was minimalist, with whitewashed walls and a floor of non-slip blue bricks. Several wooden weapon racks stood against the walls, currently empty. In a corner lay a few worn sandbags and wooden dummies she had brought with her—her "dowry."

After a busy day, Zhong Ling loved to go to the Wang Ji Wonton stall at the west end of town in the evening. She was already familiar with the stall owner, Uncle Wang.

"Master Xiao Zhong, can you give me a big bowl today? Add more coriander and chili peppers?" Uncle Wang asked with a smile, his hands wrapping wontons at a dazzling speed.

"Yes! I'm starving!" Zhong Ling responded loudly, sat down on a small stool by the roadside, stretched out her body without any image, and her joints made a slight crackling sound.

She ate with a relentless energy. The steaming wontons arrived, their thin skin and generous fillings in a broth simmered with bone and garnished with emerald green cilantro and bright red chili oil. She puffed on them, devouring them mouthful by mouthful, her nose sweating and her eyes narrowed in satisfaction. As she put it, "Martial artists need food in their bellies to maintain their strength." She was a big eater, particularly fond of hearty, warm, and vibrant foods, and less fond of delicate, small snacks.

Occasionally, Xia Wu would pass by with Xiao Jinyue, and she would pull her over to eat a bowl together. Xiao Jinyue would watch her wolfing down the food and curiously ask, "Sister Zhong Ling, why are you eating so fast?"

Zhong Ling swallowed the wonton in her mouth, wiped her mouth, and smiled: "When I was practicing martial arts as a child, my grandfather stipulated that I could not eat for more than a quarter of an hour. If I was late, I would have nothing to eat. It was not pleasant to do horse stance on an empty stomach." She said it easily, but a hint of complex emotions flashed in her eyes.

She rarely volunteered to discuss her background. Only one evening, after the martial arts gym had mostly packed up, did she invite a few neighborhood security guards who had come to help with the heavy lifting for drinks. After a few glasses of locally brewed rice wine, she became more talkative.

She was born into a martial arts family in northern China, her ancestors rumored to have been bodyguards. As the eldest granddaughter, she was groomed by her grandfather from a young age as his heir. "Other girls played with dolls, I played with stone locks; they learned to dance, I learned plum blossom poles," she said in a flat tone, her emotions unrecognizable.

"Then why did you come to our small southern town?" a young security guard asked curiously.

Zhong Ling was silent for a moment, her fingers rubbing the rough rim of the wine glass. "My grandfather passed away. My family... thinks it's useless for a girl to learn this, and that it's better for her to get married early and have a stable life. My uncles and aunts want to sell the ancestral yard for some of the money." She tilted her head back to drink the wine in the cup, exhaling a puff of spicy air, but her eyes were clear. "I don't want to see that yard, that boxing manual, and all the things my grandfather taught me. I can't just lose them like that. So I took my things and left."

She spoke lightly, but everyone present could hear the determination and difficulty behind it. A young girl, armed with her kung fu skills and a meager savings, journeyed south alone, searching for a place where she could place her dreams and pass on her legacy.

"I feel I've made the right choice by finding this place." She looked at the locust tree in the yard, its outline gradually deepening in the twilight, and smiled. "People here don't think I'm strange. The children are willing to learn from me, and the elderly are willing to practice with me. That's great."

On the opening day of the martial arts school, there were no firecrackers or gongs, only a red paper posted at the entrance with the inscription, "Zhong's Martial Arts School, Strengthening the Body, Teaching and Passing on the Arts." The first group of students, naturally, consisted of the elderly and curious children who followed her in the square early in the morning. She divided the classes according to age and physical fitness, offering soothing exercises for the elderly and fun martial arts exercises for the children to build their foundation and cultivate their interest.

In the early morning, the martial arts school's courtyard is filled with the childish yet vibrant "Hey Ha" of a voice. In the evening, beneath the locust tree, elderly people slowly and earnestly practice the "Cloud Hands" technique. The sound of their muscles stretching, mixed with the laughter of children and the casual chatter of the elderly, creates the unique atmosphere of the martial arts school.

Zhong Ling moved among them, sometimes correcting a child's horse stance, sometimes holding an elderly person's arm to adjust their stance. Her figure stood tall and resolute in the morning light and evening twilight. She was no longer just a foreign girl practicing martial arts; her roots, woven through the vibrant atmosphere of this martial arts academy, were slowly sinking into the warm soil of Donghua Town.