Mountain Guest
Deep in my consciousness, that faint red dot representing endangered life is like a pebble thrown into a calm, deep pool.
Clear ripples were stirred in Ling Zhan's heart, which had been as clear as a mirror after being washed by the torrent of data.
This was not an order, but a silent cry for help from the mountains that had just revealed all their secrets to her.
An instinctive response stemming from a deep understanding.
She stood up, her movements as steady as a mountain.
The starlight ignites at the fingertips, faint yet resolute.
At this moment, it acts like a guiding light, accurately marking the coordinates of distant mountain valleys in the unmarked mountain model—distance, terrain, obstacles, and the best path are all clearly understood.
"Keep an eye on the house."
She whispered to Jinbao, Shuangren, and Lanying, her voice gentle yet firm. Sensing her seriousness, the little ones squeaked and leaped back onto the pine branch, while the wolf cubs obediently shrank back into the corner, their eyes following her.
Ling Zhan moved like a leopard in the night, his feet lightly touching the jagged rocks, disappearing into the steep mountain path in a few leaps. His pale golden afterimages trailed behind him, silently tearing through the darkness and guiding the way. The mountain wind whispered in his ears, carrying the damp scent of grass and trees; each step landed firmly on a stable point on his mental map.
Target: A deep, recessed mountain valley surrounded by giant rocks.
A faint starlight peeked through the gaps above, while below, decaying leaves piled up, the air thick with the stench of mold and earth, damp and chilling.
Ling Zhan landed silently on the edge of the protruding rock, his figure frozen in place. His gaze, sharp as lightning, pierced through the darkness, locking onto the figure huddled in the pile of decaying leaves.
A thin, old Taoist priest huddled among the damp, decaying leaves.
The gray, patched Taoist robe was torn to shreds by thorns and stained with mud and dark red, half-congealed blood.
His gray, disheveled hair covered his face, his breath was like a candle flickering in the wind, and each labored breath was accompanied by a hoarse, broken bellows-like sound.
A broken bamboo basket for medicinal herbs lay scattered nearby, with several thick, muddy herbs rolling off the ground.
No need to get close to investigate.
The information flow, transmitted without input, was instantly reflected and analyzed in Ling Zhan's consciousness:
Injury: Open comminuted fracture of the left lower leg with displaced and exposed, contaminated bone ends; fracture of the right rib; internal organ concussion; moderate blood loss; due to low temperature and high humidity, core body temperature has dropped to a dangerous critical level and continues to decrease.
Assessment: Critical and near death. No fatal internal bleeding; timely intervention can save the patient.
She glided down the rocks as if weightless, landing precisely beside the old Taoist priest without disturbing the owl dozing on the withered branch.
The aura of impending death startled the other party.
The old Taoist priest struggled to lift his eyelids, his cloudy eyes focusing with difficulty in the darkness.
When I saw Ling Zhan's cold, expressionless face illuminated by the starlight.
Instead of showing fear, his mud-covered, wrinkled face gave off a weak, twisted laugh with a roguish, street-smart tone, the sound like sandpaper scraping.
"Oh dear... have I encountered a fairy descended from the mountains? Or... a deadly black ghost?"
He tried to lift his relatively intact right hand to stroke his blood-stained, messy goatee, which aggravated his rib injuries, causing him to gasp and wince in pain.
"Hiss...please be gentle...fairy sister...this old bone...can't handle your...enthusiasm..."
Ling Zhan's brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.
Even on the verge of death, you're still poor?
Ignoring the nonsense, Xinghuo crouched down and brought his fingertips close to the gruesome broken leg wound, illuminating the rolled-up flesh, the stark white bone fragments, and the congealed blood. The stench of blood mixed with the smell of decaying leaves was even stronger.
"Hold your breath." The voice was cold and commanding.
The old Taoist priest was taken aback, his eyes filled with confusion, and his mouth unconsciously opened slightly—
A chilling, bone-deep aura, seemingly capable of freezing blood, instantly enveloped the injured leg!
He didn't see the movement clearly, only felt a faint golden light flash before his eyes, followed by a "crack! snap!" that made his scalp tingle and his teeth ache.
A soft click! The bone was forcibly repositioned, and the fracture ends rubbed together!
"Awoooooo!!!"
A piercing scream tore through the deathly silence, startling the night owls into flight!
The old Taoist priest was in so much pain that his whole body convulsed, his eyes bulged, his throat made a hoarse sound, his eyes rolled back, and he almost fainted!
"Got it."
Ling Zhan kept moving, his left hand's five fingers flying across the paper.
With a "rip," the inner layer of fabric was torn off.
At the same time, the information flow in the brain accurately locks onto nearby hemostatic and anti-inflammatory herbs—clotting grass and Qingyang flower—and quickly tears them off and kneads them into a sticky, bitter medicinal paste.
Without the slightest hesitation, the medicinal mud was evenly applied around the exposed bone fragment wound.
He then used strips of cloth and some flexible branches he had broken off as splints to quickly wrap around and secure the broken leg.
The process was fluid, ruthless, and precise, taking no more than ten breaths.
The excruciating pain has subsided slightly!
The old Taoist priest caught his breath, panting heavily like a fish out of water, his disheveled hair and collar soaked with cold sweat. He looked down at his bandaged leg, then up at Ling Zhan's expressionless face in the dim starlight, his cloudy eyes filled with lingering fear, disbelief, and... a hint of unconcealed amazement.
"Amazing! A fairy... no, a heroine! A living bodhisattva!"
He gasped for breath and forced a smile, “Your technique… fast! steady! accurate! Even more skillful than the old sage at Huichuntang in the city!” He tried to bow, “This humble Taoist, Xuan Chenzi, thanks you for saving my life, heroine! I have no way to repay you… Ouch!” He struggled to bow, which aggravated his rib injury, causing him to grit his teeth in pain, and his chivalrous spirit crumbled.
Ling Zhan ignored the noisy cut.
Two fingers were used to quickly and accurately press and probe Xuan Chenzi's chest and ribs through his robe.
Zero-information-flow combined with tactile feedback confirmed: rib fracture, no displacement or internal bleeding. The sac was removed, the plug was removed, and the sac was placed near his mouth.
"Drink water." Still simple.
Xuan Chenzi felt as if he had been granted a pardon, and with trembling hands, he grabbed the bag and drank it down.
After the "gulp" sound, his chapped lips regained color, and his drowsy head cleared up a little.
Slightly refreshed, her shrewd eyes darted around, scrutinizing Ling Zhan and the strangely dancing pale golden flame at her fingertips.
“Heroine,” he licked his lips and asked cautiously, “what is that… sparkly thing on your fingertip? Is it a luminous pearl? Or… a magical lamp-lighting spell?” As he spoke, he tentatively reached out his dirty hand to touch it.
"Smack!"
Ling Zhan didn't raise his eyes, but with a slight movement of his wrist, the starlight seemed to blaze brightly for a moment, and an invisible, icy aura brushed against Xuan Chenzi's fingers. The old Taoist felt a numbness in his fingertips, as if he had been pricked by an ice needle, and he was so frightened that he cried out "Ouch!" and withdrew his hand, chuckling awkwardly as he rubbed his clothes.
Ling Zhan packed up the bag, stood up, and looked down at him calmly: "Can you walk?"
Xuan Chenzi looked at his tightly bandaged, throbbing leg, then at the steep, slippery, moss-covered, loose, and rocky mountain walls around him. His old face scrunched up like a bitter gourd, and he shook his head like a rattle drum.
"Leave? Look at this, heroine! This leg... this awful place!"
Pointing to the rock face above, he said, "This steep slope... if I could have climbed it, I wouldn't have fallen like this and been left to die!"
His eyes were filled with the shamelessness of "I'm weak, so I'm right, and you have to take responsibility."
Ling Zhan remained expressionless, his brows no longer furrowed. He bent down, his right hand precisely seizing the back of Xuan Chenzi's tattered Daoist robe—the collar long since hardened from sweat, blood, and mud.
"Hey! Hey! No, you mustn't! Be gentle! It's choking me! I can't breathe!"
Caught off guard, Xuan Chenzi, like an old cat being grabbed by the scruff of its neck, flailed his arms and legs in panic, kicking wildly with his feet off the ground, shouting, "Daoist robe! It's an heirloom! My only valuable possession! Don't tear it!"
Ling Zhan ignored the warning and steadily supported his injured leg with his left hand to prevent further injury.
With a powerful leap, his body moved like an agile mountain ape, using the protruding rocks and the roots of the bushes as cover. With a few nimble bounds, he easily climbed the nearly vertical cliff, carrying the weight of one person, and landed steadily on the flat ground at the edge of the valley. The process was swift and silent, with only Xuan Chenzi's terrified screams echoing through the air.
Xuan Chenzi kept his eyes tightly closed, muttering incoherently, "Immeasurable Heavenly Venerable," "May the Three Pure Ones protect me," until one foot landed firmly on the ground. Only then did he dare to open his eyes, let out a long breath, and his "ancestral" Taoist robe was soaked with cold sweat.
Once back in a safe place, Ling Zhan loosened his grip and placed him on a dry boulder as if throwing away trash.
"Oh dear... my old bones... they're really going to fall apart..."
Xuan Chenzi grimaced and rubbed his sore neck, panting with lingering fear.
Ling Zhan's eyes were filled with gratitude and awe, but his mouth was busy, rubbing his hands while giving a thumbs up.
"Impressive! Heroine! Your skills... truly are something else!" She lifted the statue high with effort. "I've wandered half my life, traversing mountains and rivers, and I've never seen anyone so agile! You're practically a celestial being! May I ask your esteemed name? Where is your immortal abode? I'll surely have a golden statue made of you, and offer incense to you daily..."
Ling Zhan ignored him.
Walking to the shady, damp rock face not far away, a spark of light from my fingertips illuminated a few clumps of dark green grass with slender leaves and serrated edges, thick and full of life.
The following information surfaced in my mind: Hemostatic herb. Cool in nature and bitter. Rich in tannins and saponins.
External application helps to astringe, stop bleeding, and reduce inflammation; oral administration of a small amount promotes blood clotting.
It is supplemented with Qingyang flowers from nearby rock crevices, whose petals contain flavonoids and volatile oils, which work synergistically to effectively stop bleeding, promote tissue regeneration, remove blood stasis, relieve pain, and reduce inflammation.
She carefully picked a few more of the best blood-clotting herbs, and then leaned over to carefully pluck a few small, warm, pale yellow flowers—the Qingyang flower—from a narrow crevice in the rock.
Returning to Xuan Chenzi, who was sitting on a rock rubbing his neck and groaning, he handed him some herbs: "Chew them up and apply them to the wound. Take a little internally."
Xuan Chenzi subconsciously took it, his cloudy eyes focused on identifying the serrated shape of the Blood Clotting Grass leaves under the starlight, and then picked up the small yellow flower to deeply smell its unique, clear and slightly bitter fragrance.
His oily, street-smart look vanished instantly, replaced by an instinctive focus and professional scrutiny honed over many years.
"Huh?"
His voice was short and surprised, his eyes brightening. "Top-quality blood-clotting herb! Thick leaves and clear teeth, potent medicinal power! And next to it is... a Qingyang flower? Such rare quality!" He looked up sharply at Ling Zhan, his surprise mixed with the excitement of meeting a fellow practitioner. "Wonderful! Heroine! The two herbs combined have a double effect in stopping bleeding, promoting tissue regeneration, removing blood stasis, and relieving pain! They can also suppress the pathogenic heat in wounds! You... are not only highly skilled, but also have a deep understanding of the essence of pharmacology?"
This praise was less exaggerated and more of a genuine admiration for those who "know the stuff."
Ling Zhan's eyes flickered slightly as he watched him switch between a professional demeanor and precise commentary.
This old Taoist priest is a chatterbox, annoying as a mule, but his ability to identify herbs and combine their properties is a true skill honed over the years.
Xuan Chenzi followed his instructions and stuffed the leaves of the Blood-Condensing Grass into his mouth, chewing them with great effort.
Bitter juice filled his mouth, and his old face wrinkled like dried orange peel, but he still forced himself to carefully apply it to the bleeding area on the outer layer of the bandage on his leg.
Take a small pinch of Qingyang flower petals and hold them in your mouth to let the slightly bitter and cool sensation dissipate.
After applying herbal poultices and bandaging the bone, the severe leg pain was reduced, and the cool, enveloping sensation at the fracture site eased the tension in the nerves.
Once he calmed down, he started talking again.
“Heroine,” he carefully moved his uninjured legs, pointing to the outline of a vast area in the distance, faintly visible in the starlight, more verdant and lush than the surroundings, “before I fell… I took a look! Good heavens! That meadow! That vibrant energy! That rising earth energy!” He inhaled deeply, as if he could smell it from afar, “Spiritual energy! Yes! Abundant spiritual energy! Absolutely a paradise among the best! You live up there? You must be a reclusive master! No wonder you have such abilities!”
Their eyes were filled with curiosity and longing.
Ling Zhan seemed oblivious to the commotion. He illuminated a small area with the sparks of light from his fingertips and stepped forward to signal that they should follow.
He walked slowly, accommodating his injured leg.
Xuan Chenzi quickly used the rough wooden stick that Ling Zhan had casually whittled as a crutch, limping and grimacing as he followed.
The mountain path was rugged, and every step aggravated his injuries, causing him to gasp for breath, yet he couldn't stop his mouth from opening and closing. He talked about everything from the mountain's terrain, feng shui, and dragon veins to the strange and mysterious witchcraft of the Miao region; from folk remedies and herbs for treating postpartum weakness in women to the 30-year-old aged liquor of "Zui Xian Ju" in Qing Shi Town at the foot of the mountain, which was said to be so potent that it felt like swallowing a knife... He talked endlessly about all sorts of strange tales and anecdotes, his energy astounding.
When Ling Zhan led Xuan Chenzi back to the wooden house on the mountaintop, the eastern sky was already turning a pale white, the night was fading, and the chill was receding.
Jinbao was the first to dart down from the tall pine branch, like a golden lightning bolt.
Before they could pounce on Ling Zhan, they curiously circled around the suddenly appearing lame old man. He reeked of a strange mixture of herbs, blood, sweat, and dirt, and they sniffed him intently. The little wolf, Frostblade Lan Ying, also cautiously peeked out from the corner of the house, letting out a low, warning whimper, its dark eyes fixed on him.
Upon seeing Jinbao, Xuan Chenzi's tired eyes suddenly lit up, forgetting his leg injury. He grinned, revealing his missing front teeth, and tried to tease him by gently poking him with a broken stick.
"Oh my! What a handsome little monkey! Golden and radiant! So full of life! Come, let me take a look..."
A slight movement aggravated his rib injury, causing him to cry out in pain, bend over, and scrunch up in pain.
Startled, Jinbao squeaked and kicked its hind legs, springing back to Ling Zhan's shoulder like a spring. Its little paws gripped the collar tightly, and it peered down warily.
Ling Zhan ignored the farce.
He pushed open the door and went inside. He quickly took out salted, sun-dried, and air-dried meat jerky and a ceramic bowl filled with water, and placed them on the rough wooden table outside.
Attention Xuan Chenzi! The light in his eyes shines brighter than gold and jewels!
Ignoring her aching ribs and her playful antics with the monkey, she grabbed her broken stick and rushed to the table, grabbing a piece of jerky and stuffing it into her mouth. She wolfed it down without any regard for appearances, crumbs sticking to her lips. Between bites, she mumbled a sincere compliment: "Mmm! Delicious! Damn, delicious! Heroine! Your cooking... is amazing! Even better than the old-established braised meat from Tianxianglou in Qingshi Town!" She gave him a greasy thumbs-up.
Ling Zhan walked to the fire pit and sat down.
He took a finely textured hardwood and a sharp ironwood short blade, focusing intently on carving new arrow shafts. The sharp blade scraped against the wood, producing a regular, low "shh" sound.
She watched as Xuan Chenzi, like a starving ghost reincarnated, ravenously chattered on and on about all sorts of things, and her brows furrowed more and more tightly.
This old Taoist priest is glib-tongued, loves to eat, has a skin thicker than a city wall, and is the ultimate combination of a tough guy and a chatterbox! Watching him devour his food, Ling Zhan's mind flashed with disgust for the annoying yet pretentious Golden Peacock from the foot of the mountain.
The two, one a street rogue, the other a peacock in full display, a "perfect match"! Are they deliberately testing her limits of patience?
No, upon closer inspection, Xuan Chenzi is even more troublesome than Shen Yan!
Chen Yan at least pretended to be reserved and dignified in front of others, and knew when to stop.
This old Taoist priest completely let loose, becoming extremely "rogue" and "noisy," like a fly that can't be driven away!
However... the movement of cutting the arrow shaft was so subtle that it was barely perceptible, pausing for half a second.
He knows herbs. He understands pharmacology. That focused skill is the real ability honed through decades of hard work and real-world experience.
Moreover, he had a strange affinity for the creatures of the mountains—just as he had frightened Jinbao, the two little wolves were now whimpering much quieter. They cautiously approached from the corner, sniffing his complex scent, a mixture of herbs, blood, sweat, and dried meat.
Jinbao squatted down, tilting his head to one side, his bright black eyes fixed on Ling Zhan with pure curiosity, finding this old, lame, and noisy fellow amusing.
This old Taoist priest, though full of quirks and annoying, had one special quality—
Accepted by the vast mountains, it also serves as a warning; the creatures in the mountains are wary and curious, eager to approach.
It is indescribable, yet it truly exists.
A cold, efficient solution instantly took shape in Ling Zhan's mind, like precision gears meshing:
The child down the mountain needs a systematic education in literacy. He's tired of basic characters; teaching him "one, two, three" and "heaven, earth, man" might suffice, but any deeper study reveals his ignorance. Besides, what about the promise to send him to the pharmacy apprenticeship to broaden his horizons? Nothing came of it. Hoping for his advancement is like waiting for a stone to bloom.
[The old Taoist priest Xuan Chenzi before us, though utterly unreliable and full of empty talk, has traveled far and wide for decades, accumulating a wealth of knowledge—basic primers, social customs, and anecdotal history—which is better than being utterly ignorant. Having him teach the children to read would at least impart some practical knowledge.]
More importantly, he understands herbs! He knows all the plants in the mountains! It's practically a skill tailor-made for the child! Let him teach the child to identify yams, learn their properties and medicinal effects. Whether for personal use, selling in a pharmacy, or starting to study medicine, this will be a valuable asset for making a living, far more practical than vague and unrealistic "suggestions."
Most importantly... the "shh" sound of shaving the arrow shaft returned to steady, the rhythm becoming slightly lighter.
What would happen if this energetic, incredibly talkative, and experienced old Taoist were given to the equally energetic, vain, and trouble-averse Golden Peacock Shen Yan, and to that group of children with boundless energy and a thirst for knowledge...?
Ling Zhan vividly recalled: Shen Yan being chased by Xuan Chenzi, bombarded with endless questions and rambling nonsense, driving him to the brink of madness and frustration; Xuan Chenzi being surrounded by a group of children, bombarded with strange questions, struggling to cope...
It achieves multiple benefits in one fell swoop, and peace and tranquility naturally follow.
Thinking of this, Ling Zhan's movement of shaving the arrow shaft barely paused.
Lifting his eyelids, he saw Xuan Chenzi sitting at the wooden table—one hand stuffing a piece of jerky into his mouth, the other trying to offer a small piece to Xueying, who was warily sniffing his scent, mumbling, "Little wolf cub... come... have a taste? It's... very fragrant! Don't... don't be afraid..."
"Finish eating." Ling Zhan's icy voice suddenly rang out, like a blast of ice from a noisy storm, instantly severing Xuan Chenzi's attempt to "bribe" Xue Ying.
Xuan Chenzi was so startled that he almost dropped his meat jerky.
She quickly stuffed the food back into her mouth, chewed vigorously, and mumbled something ingratiatingly at Ling Zhan.
"Eating... I'm eating! I'm really eating! Heroine, what are your orders? Just say it! I'll go through fire and water for you!"
He tried to puff out his thin chest, wanting to show his "loyalty".
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