The abandoned village.
In the wilderness, the sound of night owls echoed, and the branches of a few old trees were barren.
“We have already entered the territory of Yongzhou.” Mo Li surveyed the surroundings, noticing a village ahead.
Meng Qi also stopped in his tracks, his aura somewhat chaotic.
Mo Li suspected that he hadn’t even heard what he had said.
“…Brother Meng?”
“Hmm.” Meng Qi instinctively responded.
Although he had returned to his human form, his ears kept buzzing, and illusions occasionally appeared before his eyes.
There were streets of Taijing, deep mountain forests.
There were faces of people from young to old, and the sounds of war and slaughter.
They intertwined with the dark night, making it almost impossible to distinguish between illusion and reality.
Meng Qi saw a cliff in front of him, with swift-flowing water and protruding rocks below.
On the left, there was a burning city, where soldiers were engaged in a bloody battle, their weapons aimed at his chest.
Meng Qi did not dodge.
Because he saw Mo Li, the Physician was right in front of him.
The figure was somewhat blurry, but Meng Qi stared at it intently, his heart and eyes filled with this person. The cliff and waterfall were illusions, the blades and fires were illusions. He followed that figure, step by step, walking in the person’s footsteps, stepping through countless “difficulties and dangers.” He did not become angry nor did he fall into the illusions caused by the chaotic memories.
To others, Meng Qi seemed to have a strange gaze.
He walked steadily, skillfully avoiding water puddles on the ground!
However, this couldn’t deceive Mo Li’s eyes. After his suspicions arose, he secretly observed Meng Qi’s reactions and quickly realized that Meng Qi was following his own footsteps precisely, matching the speed and weight perfectly.
Mo Li’s heart tightened, and he slowed down his pace.
Previously, relying on his lightness technique, he paid no attention to scattered rocks and simply tiptoed over them. This was how martial artists hurried on their way, or else in such desolate wilderness, it would take them a day and night to reach the village.
As their speed slowed, the distance between them grew smaller.
Mo Li naturally reached out his hand and pulled Meng Qi closer.
The latter trembled slightly.
“Physician?”
Mo Li dared not answer. He quickly checked Meng Qi’s pulse but found no signs of internal turmoil.
Ahead was an abandoned village, devoid of any inhabitants. The houses were partially destroyed, giving a dilapidated appearance.
Mo Li quickly found the village’s ancestral hall. Although the roof was intact, half of the door was missing. Nevertheless, they were not afraid of the cold night wind.
The ancestral hall was covered in dust, and cobwebs clung to the walls.
Mo Li brushed his sleeves, and his internal energy swept through, clearing a small area.
The tablets in the ancestral hall were missing, leaving behind empty stone seats and a few rusty candlesticks.
Mo Li found several intact cushions behind the stone seats, piecing them together to form a makeshift bed.
Throughout the entire process, Meng Qi watched Mo Li’s busyness. He had no idea what the Physician was doing as the illusions flashed more frequently. The faces of many people merged together, and the forests and towns piled up, making it increasingly difficult to see clearly.
Mo Li guided Meng Qi to sit down, then put down his baggage and took out medicinal herbs.
“Can’t see anything?” Mo Li approached Meng Qi and asked in a low voice.
He carefully observed Meng Qi’s eyes and found that his condition resembled night blindness. Although his eyes were open, he couldn’t see anything clearly.
Meng Qi didn’t answer. He extended his hand and accurately grasped Mo Li’s hand.
Mo Li lowered his head and saw that Meng Qi was deliberately writing on the palm of his hand, proving that he was conscious.
The palm of Meng Qi’s hand felt itchy.
To be honest, it was impossible to read the content written in this manner. It was manageable when the strokes were simple, but it became troublesome when they became more complex. Meng Qi was clearly not the type of person who could write neatly and clearly without any stroke connection.
Mo Li was helpless and had to switch to writing on Meng Qi’s hand himself, along with using gestures.
After stumbling through this process for a while, Mo Li finally understood Meng Qi’s situation. He couldn’t hear sounds, couldn’t see things clearly, or rather—he could only see Mo Li.
Mo Li’s earlobes inexplicably felt warm, but he couldn’t afford to pay attention to it. After a careful pulse diagnosis revealed nothing, he had to go and prepare the medicine.
When leaving the village, Mo Li brought the small ceramic pot along. It took up space and was a bit heavy, but it would come in handy.
Mo Li didn’t go far. He stayed within Meng Qi’s line of sight while preparing the medicine and fetching water from the well in the village.
The well was covered with a stone, and the water didn’t have any strange odor, although it was scarce, enough for only four or five people’s use.
There were no obvious signs of destruction in the village. It was all collapsed and dilapidated due to long-term disrepair. There was nothing useful left in the ruined houses. It seemed as if the village collectively moved away during the turbulent times in Yongzhou years ago. Although some people later considered settling here, they abandoned the idea due to the lack of water.
Mo Li picked up some rotten wood and returned to the ancestral hall, starting a fire.
Meng Qi remained calm and composed. His expression revealed nothing about the troubles he faced. He no longer stared fixedly at Mo Li and instead kept his back straight, calmly observing the illusions that appeared before him.
He recognized some people, while others he had long forgotten.
As the scent of medicine gradually filled the air, familiar names flashed through his mind, and the distorted illusions became gentler.
With intermittent memories surfacing, he confirmed that as Meng Qi, the State Teacher of the Chu Dynasty, he was aware of his true identity. When their army passed by the Baisha River during a military campaign, he had a disagreement with others, and Li Yuanze did not adopt his strategy. Thus, feeling angry, he sneaked out of the tent and transformed back into his original form, dug a hole, and comfortably slept there for the night, dissipating his anger.
Because of the risk of exposure, Meng Qi didn’t often engage in such activities.
The original form of a sand rat wasn’t particularly useful.
Apart from being small and easy to hide, occasionally it could eavesdrop on others’ conversations.
—Even martial arts masters could accomplish such things without transforming into a rat.
Moreover, when he reverted to his original form, he didn’t possess any special abilities, struggling even to protect himself.
He was chased by wildcats, bitten by snakes, carried away by yellow weasels, and even chased by a group of field mice.
But who could blame those blind little creatures? They were all promptly dealt with by the sudden transformation of the fat rat into a human form, becoming an “enormous existence” that they couldn’t contend with. It was quite amusing, wasn’t it?
Meng Qi closed his eyes. He felt like he had overlooked something important.
His head ached, and he couldn’t remember.
Humans have parents, and it should be no different for daemons.
But he couldn’t recall any of this; sand rats weren’t commonly seen in the Central Plains.
The illusions and memories didn’t appear in chronological order. They were scattered, some representing important events, while others were like passing scenery seen while riding a horse.
At times, he saw heavy snowfall and other times, he saw the pond filled with lotus flowers.
Short trees on wild slopes, river channels, and city walls.
The northern border, the wine houses of Qinhuai.
He also had friends, seemingly sharing everything, but in the end, they became strangers after a drunken revelry.
The scent of the medicine grew stronger, and the herbal aroma gradually turned into a bitter and astringent taste.
Meng Qi felt someone patting his hand, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Mo Li again.
He squinted and estimated the location of the ceramic pot, then followed Mo Li’s hand and reached out. It was slightly hot, and as he approached, it tasted even more bitter.
Meng Qi frowned as he finished the medicine, and the illusions before him finally ceased, slowly solidifying but stubbornly refusing to disappear. They resembled melting wax.
“Now, how do you feel?” The Physician’s voice seemed distant and muffled, but at least Meng Qi could make out the words.
“Not very good. It seems like my memories are coming back, but I feel like I’ve been trapped inside a gigantic carousel, everything swirling around me, and I can’t distinguish anything clearly,” Meng Qi said slowly, appearing calm and composed.
“Do you still have a headache?”
“After drinking the medicine, it’s much better.” Meng Qi continued to feel the touch on his wrist, his breathing steady.
Unbeknownst to him, he gradually felt drowsy. By the time Mo Li finished examining his pulse, he discovered that his patient had fallen asleep while leaning against the cushions.
“…,” Mo Li silently packed up their belongings, extinguished the fire, discarded the remnants of the medicine from the ceramic pot, and tidied Meng Qi’s clothes. When he had transformed back into a human, he had hurriedly dressed and ended up making a mess of his garments due to his drowsiness.
After finishing, Mo Li stopped and looked at the sleeping figure, momentarily lost in thought. If they weren’t in this dilapidated ancestral hall, the way he had been bustling around reminded Mo Li of Old Lady Ge, the accountant of the herbal medicine shop. Old Lady Ge would sleep in such a manner, refusing to attend to any household matters when she first laid down. Though each time she would be chased awake and set to work, causing her to scurry around.
Mo Li pondered for a moment and decided not to concern himself with such matters when dealing with a patient.
He chose a spot outside, finding a position that blocked the draft, and closed his eyes to rest.
—Wherever there is a bed, lie down and sleep; where there is no bed, adjust and meditate.
In the deep stillness of the night, after Mo Li’s internal energy circulated through the twelve meridians, his consciousness gradually sank into the dantian, and the spiritual energy flowed through the extraordinary meridians, circulating endlessly.
Then, a portion of his spiritual energy inexplicably overflowed and reached out to Meng Qi by his side.
Originally, Mo Li would have awakened when daylight broke, but by noon, he still showed no signs of stirring. Some stray dogs roamed around the village, not entering the ancestral hall but attracted by the scent of medicine. After sniffing around for a moment, they felt a sense of unease emanating from inside and quickly retreated, tails tucked between their legs.
As the sun set and the moon rose, the night once again shrouded the abandoned village. It was eerily quiet, with even the calls of the night owls vanishing, leaving only the howling cold wind.
Around midnight, a group of people appeared on a distant hillside. They grumbled about missing their intended lodging but hurried toward the village upon spotting it.
“There’s nobody here!”
“Come on, at least it provides shelter from the wind and rain. Let’s find a house with a roof… Wait, this one will do.”
The commotion awakened Mo Li, and as he opened his eyes, he quickly realized that someone had arrived. He turned to look for Meng Qi, only to find him missing.
Alarmed, Mo Li, with his exceptional vision, soon spotted the clothes spread out on the cushion.
—Meng Qi didn’t have a condition where he would wander outside in the middle of the night without his clothes. It meant that he had once again transformed into the plump rat.
Mo Li lifted the clothes, just as the doors of the ancestral hall were pushed open by a person holding a torch, illuminating the surroundings. Instinctively, Mo Li tucked the still sleeping plump rat into his own embrace.
“Oh, there’s someone here?” The person with the torch saw Mo Li’s well-groomed appearance and realized he didn’t look like a ghost, failing to startle them.
“Well… first come, first served, but this ancestral hall is quite spacious. Would you allow my brothers and me to seek shelter from the wind inside?” The person holding the torch had a dignified and mature demeanor, speaking with courtesy. However, the people behind him seemed impatient.
“Big brother, this ancestral hall doesn’t belong to him, and there’s no such thing as first come, first served in the martial world…” The person talking stuck their head inside, catching sight of Mo Li’s face, and their voice trailed off.
“Looks like a scholar. No wonder big brother is being so polite…”
After some murmurs and another inquiry, seeing Mo Li nod, they filed in. Mo Li turned his body sideways, facing the wall, propping his chin with his hand as if dozing off. In reality, he was concealing the small bulge in his chest.
The abandoned village.
In the wilderness, the sound of night owls echoed, and the branches of a few old trees were barren.
“We have already entered the territory of Yongzhou.” Mo Li surveyed the surroundings, noticing a village ahead.
Meng Qi also stopped in his tracks, his aura somewhat chaotic.
Mo Li suspected that he hadn’t even heard what he had said.
“…Brother Meng?”
“Hmm.” Meng Qi instinctively responded.
Although he had returned to his human form, his ears kept buzzing, and illusions occasionally appeared before his eyes.
There were streets of Taijing, deep mountain forests.
There were faces of people from young to old, and the sounds of war and slaughter.
They intertwined with the dark night, making it almost impossible to distinguish between illusion and reality.
Meng Qi saw a cliff in front of him, with swift-flowing water and protruding rocks below.
On the left, there was a burning city, where soldiers were engaged in a bloody battle, their weapons aimed at his chest.
Meng Qi did not dodge.
Because he saw Mo Li, the Physician was right in front of him.
The figure was somewhat blurry, but Meng Qi stared at it intently, his heart and eyes filled with this person. The cliff and waterfall were illusions, the blades and fires were illusions. He followed that figure, step by step, walking in the person’s footsteps, stepping through countless “difficulties and dangers.” He did not become angry nor did he fall into the illusions caused by the chaotic memories.
To others, Meng Qi seemed to have a strange gaze.
He walked steadily, skillfully avoiding water puddles on the ground!
However, this couldn’t deceive Mo Li’s eyes. After his suspicions arose, he secretly observed Meng Qi’s reactions and quickly realized that Meng Qi was following his own footsteps precisely, matching the speed and weight perfectly.
Mo Li’s heart tightened, and he slowed down his pace.
Previously, relying on his lightness technique, he paid no attention to scattered rocks and simply tiptoed over them. This was how martial artists hurried on their way, or else in such desolate wilderness, it would take them a day and night to reach the village.
As their speed slowed, the distance between them grew smaller.
Mo Li naturally reached out his hand and pulled Meng Qi closer.
The latter trembled slightly.
“Physician?”
Mo Li dared not answer. He quickly checked Meng Qi’s pulse but found no signs of internal turmoil.
Ahead was an abandoned village, devoid of any inhabitants. The houses were partially destroyed, giving a dilapidated appearance.
Mo Li quickly found the village’s ancestral hall. Although the roof was intact, half of the door was missing. Nevertheless, they were not afraid of the cold night wind.
The ancestral hall was covered in dust, and cobwebs clung to the walls.
Mo Li brushed his sleeves, and his internal energy swept through, clearing a small area.
The tablets in the ancestral hall were missing, leaving behind empty stone seats and a few rusty candlesticks.
Mo Li found several intact cushions behind the stone seats, piecing them together to form a makeshift bed.
Throughout the entire process, Meng Qi watched Mo Li’s busyness. He had no idea what the Physician was doing as the illusions flashed more frequently. The faces of many people merged together, and the forests and towns piled up, making it increasingly difficult to see clearly.
Mo Li guided Meng Qi to sit down, then put down his baggage and took out medicinal herbs.
“Can’t see anything?” Mo Li approached Meng Qi and asked in a low voice.
He carefully observed Meng Qi’s eyes and found that his condition resembled night blindness. Although his eyes were open, he couldn’t see anything clearly.
Meng Qi didn’t answer. He extended his hand and accurately grasped Mo Li’s hand.
Mo Li lowered his head and saw that Meng Qi was deliberately writing on the palm of his hand, proving that he was conscious.
The palm of Meng Qi’s hand felt itchy.
To be honest, it was impossible to read the content written in this manner. It was manageable when the strokes were simple, but it became troublesome when they became more complex. Meng Qi was clearly not the type of person who could write neatly and clearly without any stroke connection.
Mo Li was helpless and had to switch to writing on Meng Qi’s hand himself, along with using gestures.
After stumbling through this process for a while, Mo Li finally understood Meng Qi’s situation. He couldn’t hear sounds, couldn’t see things clearly, or rather—he could only see Mo Li.
Mo Li’s earlobes inexplicably felt warm, but he couldn’t afford to pay attention to it. After a careful pulse diagnosis revealed nothing, he had to go and prepare the medicine.
When leaving the village, Mo Li brought the small ceramic pot along. It took up space and was a bit heavy, but it would come in handy.
Mo Li didn’t go far. He stayed within Meng Qi’s line of sight while preparing the medicine and fetching water from the well in the village.
The well was covered with a stone, and the water didn’t have any strange odor, although it was scarce, enough for only four or five people’s use.
There were no obvious signs of destruction in the village. It was all collapsed and dilapidated due to long-term disrepair. There was nothing useful left in the ruined houses. It seemed as if the village collectively moved away during the turbulent times in Yongzhou years ago. Although some people later considered settling here, they abandoned the idea due to the lack of water.
Mo Li picked up some rotten wood and returned to the ancestral hall, starting a fire.
Meng Qi remained calm and composed. His expression revealed nothing about the troubles he faced. He no longer stared fixedly at Mo Li and instead kept his back straight, calmly observing the illusions that appeared before him.
He recognized some people, while others he had long forgotten.
As the scent of medicine gradually filled the air, familiar names flashed through his mind, and the distorted illusions became gentler.
With intermittent memories surfacing, he confirmed that as Meng Qi, the State Teacher of the Chu Dynasty, he was aware of his true identity. When their army passed by the Baisha River during a military campaign, he had a disagreement with others, and Li Yuanze did not adopt his strategy. Thus, feeling angry, he sneaked out of the tent and transformed back into his original form, dug a hole, and comfortably slept there for the night, dissipating his anger.
Because of the risk of exposure, Meng Qi didn’t often engage in such activities.
The original form of a sand rat wasn’t particularly useful.
Apart from being small and easy to hide, occasionally it could eavesdrop on others’ conversations.
—Even martial arts masters could accomplish such things without transforming into a rat.
Moreover, when he reverted to his original form, he didn’t possess any special abilities, struggling even to protect himself.
He was chased by wildcats, bitten by snakes, carried away by yellow weasels, and even chased by a group of field mice.
But who could blame those blind little creatures? They were all promptly dealt with by the sudden transformation of the fat rat into a human form, becoming an “enormous existence” that they couldn’t contend with. It was quite amusing, wasn’t it?
Meng Qi closed his eyes. He felt like he had overlooked something important.
His head ached, and he couldn’t remember.
Humans have parents, and it should be no different for daemons.
But he couldn’t recall any of this; sand rats weren’t commonly seen in the Central Plains.
The illusions and memories didn’t appear in chronological order. They were scattered, some representing important events, while others were like passing scenery seen while riding a horse.
At times, he saw heavy snowfall and other times, he saw the pond filled with lotus flowers.
Short trees on wild slopes, river channels, and city walls.
The northern border, the wine houses of Qinhuai.
He also had friends, seemingly sharing everything, but in the end, they became strangers after a drunken revelry.
The scent of the medicine grew stronger, and the herbal aroma gradually turned into a bitter and astringent taste.
Meng Qi felt someone patting his hand, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Mo Li again.
He squinted and estimated the location of the ceramic pot, then followed Mo Li’s hand and reached out. It was slightly hot, and as he approached, it tasted even more bitter.
Meng Qi frowned as he finished the medicine, and the illusions before him finally ceased, slowly solidifying but stubbornly refusing to disappear. They resembled melting wax.
“Now, how do you feel?” The Physician’s voice seemed distant and muffled, but at least Meng Qi could make out the words.
“Not very good. It seems like my memories are coming back, but I feel like I’ve been trapped inside a gigantic carousel, everything swirling around me, and I can’t distinguish anything clearly,” Meng Qi said slowly, appearing calm and composed.
“Do you still have a headache?”
“After drinking the medicine, it’s much better.” Meng Qi continued to feel the touch on his wrist, his breathing steady.
Unbeknownst to him, he gradually felt drowsy. By the time Mo Li finished examining his pulse, he discovered that his patient had fallen asleep while leaning against the cushions.
“…,” Mo Li silently packed up their belongings, extinguished the fire, discarded the remnants of the medicine from the ceramic pot, and tidied Meng Qi’s clothes. When he had transformed back into a human, he had hurriedly dressed and ended up making a mess of his garments due to his drowsiness.
After finishing, Mo Li stopped and looked at the sleeping figure, momentarily lost in thought. If they weren’t in this dilapidated ancestral hall, the way he had been bustling around reminded Mo Li of Old Lady Ge, the accountant of the herbal medicine shop. Old Lady Ge would sleep in such a manner, refusing to attend to any household matters when she first laid down. Though each time she would be chased awake and set to work, causing her to scurry around.
Mo Li pondered for a moment and decided not to concern himself with such matters when dealing with a patient.
He chose a spot outside, finding a position that blocked the draft, and closed his eyes to rest.
—Wherever there is a bed, lie down and sleep; where there is no bed, adjust and meditate.
In the deep stillness of the night, after Mo Li’s internal energy circulated through the twelve meridians, his consciousness gradually sank into the dantian, and the spiritual energy flowed through the extraordinary meridians, circulating endlessly.
Then, a portion of his spiritual energy inexplicably overflowed and reached out to Meng Qi by his side.
Originally, Mo Li would have awakened when daylight broke, but by noon, he still showed no signs of stirring. Some stray dogs roamed around the village, not entering the ancestral hall but attracted by the scent of medicine. After sniffing around for a moment, they felt a sense of unease emanating from inside and quickly retreated, tails tucked between their legs.
As the sun set and the moon rose, the night once again shrouded the abandoned village. It was eerily quiet, with even the calls of the night owls vanishing, leaving only the howling cold wind.
Around midnight, a group of people appeared on a distant hillside. They grumbled about missing their intended lodging but hurried toward the village upon spotting it.
“There’s nobody here!”
“Come on, at least it provides shelter from the wind and rain. Let’s find a house with a roof… Wait, this one will do.”
The commotion awakened Mo Li, and as he opened his eyes, he quickly realized that someone had arrived. He turned to look for Meng Qi, only to find him missing.
Alarmed, Mo Li, with his exceptional vision, soon spotted the clothes spread out on the cushion.
—Meng Qi didn’t have a condition where he would wander outside in the middle of the night without his clothes. It meant that he had once again transformed into the plump rat.
Mo Li lifted the clothes, just as the doors of the ancestral hall were pushed open by a person holding a torch, illuminating the surroundings. Instinctively, Mo Li tucked the still sleeping plump rat into his own embrace.
“Oh, there’s someone here?” The person with the torch saw Mo Li’s well-groomed appearance and realized he didn’t look like a ghost, failing to startle them.
“Well… first come, first served, but this ancestral hall is quite spacious. Would you allow my brothers and me to seek shelter from the wind inside?” The person holding the torch had a dignified and mature demeanor, speaking with courtesy. However, the people behind him seemed impatient.
“Big brother, this ancestral hall doesn’t belong to him, and there’s no such thing as first come, first served in the martial world…” The person talking stuck their head inside, catching sight of Mo Li’s face, and their voice trailed off.
“Looks like a scholar. No wonder big brother is being so polite…”
After some murmurs and another inquiry, seeing Mo Li nod, they filed in. Mo Li turned his body sideways, facing the wall, propping his chin with his hand as if dozing off. In reality, he was concealing the small bulge in his chest.
