"You have a high fever. If you cut your wrists to draw blood, you probably won't survive."
The sharp stone had already touched her delicate skin, and blood was gushing from her wrist, but Song Xizhi's reaction was somewhat sluggish, and she did not feel any pain.
Hearing the sound coming from afar, Song Xizhi paused slightly, stopped what he was about to do, and then turned his head somewhat slowly to look in the direction from which the sound came.
Standing at the entrance of the cave was a gaunt old man, dressed simply in a plain linen robe with many patches, looking like a monk.
Yet his face was serene and peaceful, his forehead broad and smooth, and his sparse eyebrows curved like a crescent moon, as if he possessed a wisdom that transcended worldly concerns.
Song Xizhi could not tell his age from his appearance, but he could see the compassion and pity in his eyes, and his sympathy for all living beings in the world.
Sunlight streamed into the cave from outside, and as the old man stood before it, the sunlight cast a golden glow on his figure.
As Song Xizhi looked at him, he was also quietly gazing at Song Xizhi's expression.
Suddenly, as if he had understood something, he smiled at Song Xizhi and then walked towards Song Xizhi.
His gaze was gentle, and his steps were steady and light, as if radiating a tranquil power.
Before Song Xizhi could even react, the old man was already in front of her.
He slowly tore a clean piece of cloth from the hem of his monk's robe and gently bandaged Song Xizhi's still bleeding wrist.
Cherish yourself and treat yourself well.
The old man spoke in a deep and melodious voice, like the morning bells of an ancient temple, instantly calming the mind.
It was this sound that snapped Song Xizhi back to her senses. She pressed her hand against the bandaged wound on her wrist and asked urgently:
"Master, are you a monk practicing at the White Horse Temple? May I ask your honorable name...?"
The old man smiled and shook his head, his deep and bright eyes fixed on Song Xizhi's face: "He's just a shallow ascetic monk, his name is not worth mentioning."
As he spoke, he calmly extended his palm to Song Xizhi, with a pill quietly resting in his hand.
Although Song Xizhi's consciousness was somewhat clouded by the fever, she could still tell that the pills in the old man's hand could save lives.
She didn't take the pills, but instead looked pleadingly in the man's direction: "Master, he's more seriously injured than me. He's hypothermic, delirious, and unconscious. Please, please save him..."
The old man placed the pill in Song Xizhi's palm and then looked in the direction Song Xizhi was looking.
When he saw the pale face of the person on the ground, his expression finally showed a slight change.
The old man lowered his eyes and softly murmured, "Amitabha."
She then walked towards the man.
He took out a pill from his sleeve, opened the man's mouth, and fed it to him. At the same time, he took out some powder and sprinkled it carefully on the crisscrossing wounds on the man's body.
Song Xizhi stood there, staring blankly at the old man's skillful movements, his gaze fixed on the man's face.
Her mind was in a mess, yet she couldn't think of anything.
His eyes were full of confusion and bewilderment.
It wasn't until the old man sensed Song Xizhi's emotions that he slowly stood up, turned his head, and looked at Song Xizhi.
"His health is temporarily fine, but you seem to have something on your mind."
Song Xizhi felt that the old man's words seemed to have a magical power. His gaze was gentle and warm as he looked at her, which brought her a sense of peace.
She took a few steps toward the two of them, then stopped beside the man.
Looking at that face, so different from He Jingyan's, Song Xizhi's gaze finally settled on the wound on the man's collarbone.
"Everything is different, yet everything is the same."
Song Xizhi suddenly said.
"Master, why is it that when I first meet a complete stranger, I feel an overwhelming sense of familiarity?"
"And as our relationship deepened, I became more and more certain of this familiar feeling."
"But the result... was not like that. I didn't know him, and I even found that I didn't know my husband."
When the old man heard Song Xizhi's words, he simply smiled gently: "Sometimes, feeling with your heart can reveal more than seeing with your eyes."
Song Xizhi looked up and met his gaze, and noticed that the sunlight shone through the cave entrance onto the old man's face, making his pupils seem transparent.
"You mean... what the eyes see is not necessarily the truth?"
The old man did not answer, but simply squatted down next to the man again and covered the man's naked body with his clean and tidy cotton coat.
“Follow the path I just trod out, and after walking for about half an incense stick’s time, you will see people.”
"Girl, go ahead, your body can't take it anymore, there are many people waiting for you."
Upon hearing this, Song Xizhi hesitated, looking at the man who was still lying unconscious on the ground: "If I leave, what about him?"
The old man lowered his eyes, gazing at the man's appearance, and said softly, "I'll think of a way to deal with him."
Song Xizhi was still somewhat worried, after all, the man lying on the ground had ended up in this state to save her life.
And she also had many unanswered questions in her heart.
Feeling the old man's calm gaze, Song Xizhi finally bowed respectfully to him.
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