When the old mountain spirit willingly entered the urn and the first pot of medicinal soup it produced was distributed throughout the refugee camp, the Heavenly Book immediately sensed it. When Feng Bingwen opened the Heavenly Book, he saw a surge in good deeds.
This time, the increase in merit points broke records once again. However, looking at the merit points that had skyrocketed to six figures, Feng Bingwen found it hard to be happy, because when he was with the Dragon General, he saw the old mountain spirit struggling in the jar.
Thousands of the most severely affected disaster victims received a dose of herbal soup. The victims, who had fallen ill due to severe depletion of their vital energy and insufficient righteous energy, recovered their complexion at a speed visible to the naked eye after receiving the soup.
It was precisely because the most severely affected refugees stabilized their conditions that Feng Bingwen received a large sum of merit, and the refugee camp, which had been in a very heavy and oppressive atmosphere, was thus brought back to life.
Feng Bingwen could hear the uncontrollable cheers of the disaster victims who had suffered so much, and he could also feel their joy at finally seeing the dawn after a period of desperate waiting.
But before him was an old mountain spirit struggling painfully inside a giant urn. The flames scorched its essence, which was then incorporated into the medicinal soup. The thousands of disaster victims who were able to recover were because they swallowed its life essence.
As a result, many disaster victims were saved from danger and given a new lease on life. Some people who should have died might have survived after receiving this replenishment.
But all of this cost was borne by the old mountain spirit inside the large urn. Seeing the old mountain spirit's painful appearance, Feng Bingwen also showed a look of pity.
Indeed, it's undeniable that he came for the imperial decree bestowed upon him by Feng Bingwen. But isn't that what he deserves? If he has freed millions from the threat of plague, shouldn't he be entitled to incense offerings?
"Lord Zhang, I hope you can keep your word."
Hearing the wailing of the old mountain spirit beside him, Feng Bingwen looked at the red-robed official beside him.
"There's no need for you to say more, I'll go and write the memorial now."
The official in red robes looked at the mountain spirit suffering terribly, his face showing unbearable pain. He raised his hand to bow to Feng Bingwen before leaving the tent.
"Master, could you please use your magic to alleviate some of this elder's suffering?"
At this moment, a doctor with white hair and a youthful face, who looked quite well, walked up to Feng Bingwen. It was Doctor Qin from Qingshan County, but unfortunately, he did not recognize the divine general standing in front of him, the child whose pulse he had taken several years ago.
"A real person!"
Upon hearing what Doctor Qin said, the doctors who had been quite excited earlier all turned their attention to Feng Bingwen.
They had been excited because they had seen a magical elixir that existed only in legendary ancient books. Now, seeing this old herb, which was almost indistinguishable from a human, in such a pitiful state, they all felt a pang of pity.
A doctor's heart is full of compassion.
This is not an empty saying. A doctor who practices medicine and treats patients hardly makes any money; he can barely support his family and is on the verge of subsistence. Doctor Qin, for example, sometimes even has to lose money. If it weren't for his eldest son's success, his pharmacy would have closed down long ago.
I wish there were no more illnesses and suffering in the world; I would rather the medicine on the shelves gather dust.
Many pharmacies display similar couplets at their entrances. Perhaps some pharmacies choose these couplets simply to decorate their storefronts, but they also reveal the true aspirations of a healer.
"Kid, don't bother. Tell these guys to get it over with and give me a quick death!"
The old mountain spirit, who was being cooked in the large urn, heard these doctors pleading for Feng Bingwen for him. He immediately endured the pain of having his life essence stripped away and shouted loudly.
You'd better hurry up!
"I can't help it," Feng Bingwen said helplessly. He then walked to the large urn filled with the aroma of medicine and once again assured the old mountain spirit.
"You have suffered this hardship, and I will surely make sure that your efforts are rewarded."
"To be honest, I regret it a little."
The old man, suffering greatly, bobbed in the medicinal soup, his face contorted with pain as he stared at Feng Bingwen.
“Over the past few hundred years, some true cultivators have tried to capture me, but I always managed to escape and wasn’t thrown into the medicine furnace to become a pile of dregs. But I never expected that after listening to your words, I would willingly jump into this jar.”
You will never regret what you are doing now.
"Don't try to sweet-talk the old folks like that, I don't fall for it."
"I'll go find someone to cast a statue for you right now!"
"What?"
The old mountain spirit didn't react for a moment.
"The emperor's decree merely acknowledges your status as a true god, ensuring that after you receive worship from the people, you will not be categorized as a depraved worshipper and subject to punishment and purge."
Feng Bingwen smiled.
Although the religious rites flourished, they were still under the control of human morality and did not develop unchecked and barbaric. Any unrecognized incense offerings, no matter how orthodox they may appear, were considered illicit and were to be suppressed.
"Your current efforts are enough to warrant the worship and offerings of the people."
"Don't do anything reckless and anger the emperor. Wait until he issues the decree before you cast a golden statue for me."
"This is my decision, and it has nothing to do with you."
Having already made his decision, why would Feng Bingwen stay here and listen to this old mountain spirit?
At this time, the refugee camp had found a way to control the epidemic, and the originally extremely strict management, which even threatened to draw swords if anyone violated the rules, had become much more relaxed. Some refugees with good complexions could be seen moving around near their tents.
As soon as Feng Bingwen appeared, he immediately attracted the attention of many mortals. There was no other reason than that he had not yet removed the dragon armor given to him by the Dragon Lord.
Furthermore, after he stepped out of the tent, he revealed his sixteen-foot-tall body, which aroused both fear and curiosity among the mortals.
"Is this a god descended to earth?"
"I think so. No wonder our illnesses suddenly disappeared! It must be that the gods brought us divine medicine from heaven!"
As the refugees looked at Feng Bingwen's image, their initial fear gradually turned into awe, and even fanatical admiration.
"Has anyone sculpted the Dharma bodies of the City God and other deities?"
Feng Bingwen asked directly, his authoritative and solemn voice resounding throughout most of the camp.
"Your Excellency, I once had the honor of sculpting a statue for the City God of our county!"
Because of Feng Bingwen's excellent appearance at this moment, coupled with the fact that the epidemic in the camp was indeed on the verge of complete expulsion, when he inquired, more than a dozen bricklayers who had sculpted statues for the gods of incense and worship immediately stepped forward.
“Come with me.”
Feng Bingwen didn't stand on ceremony. He reached out and grabbed the dozen or so bricklayers who had spoken up, then led them into the large tent filled with the aroma of medicine.
"Do you see? The reason you are not threatened by the epidemic now is because of him!"
Feng Bingwen pointed to the old mountain spirit churning in the large urn, then looked at the dozen or so bricklayers who were dumbfounded by the scene before them.
"It turns out to be the mountain god descended to earth, saving me from dire straits!"
One of the bricklayers reacted very quickly. He smelled the intoxicating medicinal fragrance and understood what was going on. He immediately knelt down on the ground.
Seeing this, the other dozen or so bricklayers didn't hesitate for long before kneeling down and bowing deeply to the old mountain spirit in the large urn in gratitude.
With the old mountain spirit's current contributions, he is absolutely qualified to receive such a grand ceremony. Without him, even an ordinary plague would have claimed countless lives.
“Show your skills and sculpt a statue of your benefactor. From this day forward, he will be the Medicine King God who protects all people and eliminates diseases and disasters.”
"yes."
When Feng Bingwen, who appeared to be like a god, gave the order, which of the dozen or so bricklayers dared to disobey? After whispering and discussing for a while, they began to search for suitable yellow clay.
That very night, more than a dozen statues of varying sizes, appearances, and clothing were placed before Feng Bingwen, all only a few feet tall.
This determines the form of the statue. If a golden statue were to be created, it would at least be as tall as a person, not like it is now.
Feng Bingwen naturally didn't have many requirements for this kind of thing. He let his body start to be boiled to pieces, but the old mountain spirit with higher spiritual consciousness could choose for itself.
Then he chose a kind-faced old god-like figure for himself, holding a wooden staff and wearing a divine robe, which was quite similar to the supplementary version of the text.
After finalizing the design of the statue, Feng Bingwen immediately summoned the red-robed official who seemed to have some reservations to discuss finding a suitable location and preparing for the construction of the temple.
"Lord Zhang, I know you have objections, but you can't stop me from doing this, nor can you stop me."
"I know you are worried about the divine medicine, but my memorial has only just been sent out. You should at least wait for the imperial decree to be issued!"
"There's no need for that. Just listen to the sounds outside the tent. Who in your camp isn't grateful to the Medicine King?"
Feng Bingwen smiled. The story of the old mountain spirit's act of throwing himself into the urn to save people had already spread throughout the camp. Although it was quite mysterious, the fact that the epidemic in the camp had subsided was undeniable. Therefore, words of gratitude were naturally indispensable.
"This is..."
"Whatever the consequences, I will bear them."
Feng Bingwen glanced at the merits displayed on the Heavenly Book, which were already close to 200,000. This was more than all he had done in the past, and it was only because the old mountain spirit had offered his merits voluntarily. What did it matter that he was now bearing some karma?
Once the temple is built and the people chant its name, the old mountain spirit can break free from its innate constraints and directly transform into the Medicine King God he had previously promised. This is the wonder of the people's incense offerings.
"Then we will do as you say. However, there is one thing we need to discuss with you."
"you say."
"I plan to divide the medicinal soup made from this elixir into ten portions and send them to the other camps that are also plagued by the epidemic. What do you think, Master?"
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