Chapter 73: Persimmon

“I need to discuss this with my senior brother,” Wuwang said, fixing his gaze on Qin Qing.

“Fine,” Qin Qing replied lightly. “I’ll head back to the Monk’s Quarters first.”

At night on the mountain, the sky was clear and pristine, adorned with twinkling stars.

In the small courtyard of the Monk’s Quarters, homemade incense coils burned, and standing there, one could catch the lingering scent of charred wood.

If you wanted to stargaze in the courtyard, not a single mosquito would disturb you.

It was just a bit chilly.

In the courtyard stood a persimmon tree, its fruits a mix of green and yellow, their ripeness uncertain.

Qin Qing wasn’t the only one eyeing the persimmon tree; there was also a child, Zhang Haochen.

Wrapped in a thin blanket and cradled in his mother’s arms, the mother and son sat on a chair beneath the persimmon tree.

The child’s voice was sweet and crisp.

“Mommy, that fruit is so big.”

“Sweetie, those are persimmons.”

“Mommy, are persimmon fruits yummy?”

“I don’t know,” Chen Xiaoyuan said, tucking the blanket tighter around her child. “Tomorrow, I’ll ask the people here. If they agree, I’ll pick one for you to try, okay?”

“Okay,” Zhang Haochen replied, using his little hand, peeking out from the blanket, to rhythmically pat his snugly wrapped body, soothing himself. “Good baby, don’t take other people’s things when visiting.”

“That’s right, you’re such a good baby,” Chen Xiaoyuan said, unable to resist kissing his soft cheek.

The child giggled for a while.

After a moment, he asked again, “Mommy, what star is that?”

“Where?”

“That really bright one over there.”

“Oh, that one? It’s probably a star from the Pegasus constellation,” Chen Xiaoyuan said gently. “Look, sweetie, see those three other bright stars around it? They form a square. That’s Pegasus.”

“But they don’t look like a horse at all. Why not just call it a square?”

Chen Xiaoyuan showed no impatience with her son’s innocent questions, unconcerned whether he fully understood.

She explained, “It’s not named for their shape. In Greek mythology, when Zeus’s son Perseus cut off Medusa’s head, a beautiful winged horse, Pegasus, sprang from her body and flew to that part of the sky.”

“Wow, Pegasus! Does it have wings?”

“Yes, it has a pair of really big wings.”

“Then I’ll live on a Pegasus star someday and play with the horse,” the child declared, sharing his decision with his mother.

Chen Xiaoyuan was puzzled. “What’s that, sweetie?”

Zhang Haochen said, “When Grandpa died, Grandma said people who die go to live on the stars. Mommy, I’m going to die soon, so I need to pick a star. Otherwise, when the angel comes to register me after I die, I won’t know what to say.”

Chen Xiaoyuan froze.

After a long pause, she said, “Sweetie, don’t talk nonsense. You’re not going to die. Mommy won’t let you die.”

Zhang Haochen’s voice grew soft and dejected.

“I will die. I heard it. The baby is sick, and the baby can’t be cured.” He lifted his small hand to wipe the tears from his mother’s face, his voice tender. “Mommy, don’t cry. When you miss me, just look at the stars. Grandma said Grandpa watches over us from the sky.”

He added, “When I live on a star, I’ll watch over you and Daddy too. Grandpa and I will protect you both. Mommy, you and Daddy don’t have to be afraid.”

Chen Xiaoyuan sniffled, her voice thick with emotion, almost a whisper. “Okay, Mommy’s not afraid.”

Zhang Haochen praised her.

“Mommy’s so brave, the bravest mommy.”

He continued, “When I’m living on a star, I’ll work hard to earn money.”

“What will you do with the money, sweetie?”

The child said innocently, “I’ll save up to buy a ticket to choose you again. Next time, I’ll still choose you as my mommy.”

Chen Xiaoyuan could no longer hold back. Clutching her child, she broke into sobs. “Sweetie, my baby.”

The child patted her head. “Good mommy, don’t cry. Mommy’s brave.”

At the courtyard gate, half of Wuyong’s figure appeared.

Qin Qing circled around, avoiding the persimmon tree, and approached from the other side of the corridor.

Wuyong said, “Senior brother requests your presence in the guest hall.”

“Alright.”

Qin Qing had already guessed the outcome.

In general, Baiyun Temple agreed to Qin Qing’s proposed collaboration.

But it was contingent on curing Zhang Haochen, or at least showing clear signs of his recovery.

Qin Qing had no objections.

There wasn’t much else to discuss; both sides’ responsibilities, rights, and demands were clear.

Baiyun Temple had even drafted a cooperation agreement.

Qin Qing reviewed it briefly and found no issues.

As Party A, Baiyun Temple invited Qin Qing, Party B, to collaborate in exploring and applying medical practices, with the aim of saving patients and promoting Taoist culture.

The agreement included detailed confidentiality clauses and the duration of the initial contract term.

It was quite formal, though it was unclear whether such an agreement held legal weight.

Baiyun Temple showed sincerity, offering Qin Qing additional conveniences beyond her requests to facilitate their collaboration and, in Qin Qing’s words, to better “play the part of mystics” (not contract wording).

For instance, they would provide her with a Taoist priest certificate and a religious practitioner’s license.

The real kind—not fake props.

Looking at the terms, Qin Qing was both impressed and wistful.

Back when she was stall-keeping outside Baiyun Temple, she had been chased off for not having a license, leaving her without income.

She had dreamed of having such a certificate.

And now, it had come to her so easily.

With the cooperation finalized, there was no time to waste.

Recalling the mother and son’s conversation under the persimmon tree, Qin Qing proposed starting the treatment plan that very night.

Daoist Wuwang, eager to begin, naturally had no objections.

However, since Qin Qing was to participate in the treatment but couldn’t reveal her identity, their “performance” in front of the patient was crucial.

They coordinated their approach.

Qin Qing briefed Daoist Wuwang on the necessary lines.

She then donned a Taoist robe provided by Wuyong, who was of similar height, and tied her hair into a bun.

She and Wuyong followed Daoist Wuwang, posing as two assistant Taoist acolytes to receive the patient.

A real young acolyte was sent to fetch the family of three staying at the Monk’s Quarters.

The treatment was set to take place in Daoist Wuwang’s usual consultation room.

The couple arrived hurriedly in the middle of the night, carrying their child, their faces full of apprehension.

Once seated, Daoist Wuwang stroked his beard and began with the prepared lines.

“Given your sincere devotion and your request under the starry night, this old Taoist has a method we might try.” He didn’t make absolute promises. “Whether it works, we’ll only know after trying.”

“We’ll try! We’ll try!”

“We’ll try, even if it costs us everything!”

The couple, as if fearing Wuwang might back out, eagerly agreed.

“We knew you’d have a way, Daoist.”

Wuwang raised a hand. “Don’t get too excited yet.”

The couple immediately subdued their smiles.

Wuwang continued, “This is a free clinic; you won’t need to bankrupt yourselves. I heard you were both teachers but resigned to seek treatment for your child.”

“Yes, Daoist, about that…”

“Sigh, you shouldn’t have quit your jobs.”

Wuwang explained the concept of merit to the couple.

The two exchanged glances. The logic was simple enough to follow, but it sounded so… mystical.

Wasn’t that exactly why they had come to the mountain?

The couple shared a look and made their decision.

“Daoist, we’ll proceed with the treatment.”

“Let this old Taoist remind you once more: using your merit to save your child may bring you bad luck and make life very difficult. You could involve another relative of the child.”

Chen Xiaoyuan gave a bitter smile. “Daoist, if our son is gone, what hope is there in life?”

She added, “Our child is our responsibility, not our parents’. Daoist, please begin. We’re mentally prepared.”

“Very well.”

At that moment, Wuwang’s phone lit up with a new message.

He frowned after reading it, his peripheral vision sweeping toward Qin Qing. A moment later, he addressed the couple again: “There are two options now. One is to use up all your merit to heal the child completely. The other is to reserve a small portion, which would allow the child to recover enough for surgery. In that case, your future days would be smoother, less difficult.”

Without hesitation, the couple spoke in unison.

“We choose complete healing.”

Wuwang nodded in agreement and began the ritual.

Compared to Qin Qing’s haphazard, amateurish rituals meant to fool outsiders, Daoist Wuwang’s ceremony was intricate and mysterious.

No wonder Wuyong, during her interview, boasted that her cameo as a national preceptor in films and dramas was a director’s favorite.

Wuwang’s movements had the same captivating effect.

After a complex series of procedures, he set up a formation in the room, shaped like two triangles—one large, encasing a smaller one.

Little Zhang Haochen was placed at one corner of the inner triangle, with his parents each occupying the other two corners.

On the outer triangle, Wuwang, Wuyong, and Qin Qing sat cross-legged at their respective points.

At this moment, the family of three in the inner triangle looked visibly nervous.

Wuwang and Wuyong began chanting scriptures, their ethereal voices resonating through the room. Wuwang glanced at Qin Qing.

Understanding the cue, Qin Qing took over the next steps.

On the System Panel, she arranged for the couple’s merit to be exchanged to achieve the child’s full recovery and confirmed the payment.

[Due to the recipient’s capacity, recovery will proceed in stages. Initial healing progress: 20%. Please select the activation time for the remaining healing progress.]

[7 days]

[27 days]

[36 days]

[49 days]

[Note: For young recipients, the longest duration is recommended to minimize physical reactions.]

It could work like that?

Naturally, she chose 49 days.

[Exchange successful.]

[Total service fee: 37.5. Cradle holder’s merit increased by 7.5.]

What?

She only got 20%?

The System Panel was truly ruthless, swallowing 80% of the service fee!

She worked so hard, handling vast amounts of merit, only to earn a measly 7.5?

There was no time to complain. As soon as the merit exchange was completed, a strange phenomenon erupted in the room.

It was as if the Milky Way had poured in, rendering the room’s energy-saving lights feeble by comparison.

Two thick streams, resembling both water and smoke, rose from the couple’s heads, slowly merging into the child seated at the opposite end.

Zhang Haochen, who had been sitting obediently across from his parents, tilted his little head as the phenomenon began. With a roll, he tumbled to the floor, fast asleep.

His father, Zhang Songlin, reached out to pick him up.

Wuwang stopped him sharply: “Don’t move!”

Zhang Songlin reluctantly held back.

Aside from the sleeping child on the floor, everyone else who was awake widened their eyes in astonishment.

Even Qin Qing hadn’t anticipated such a dramatic effect from the merit exchange.

Her previous two exchanges using her own merit hadn’t produced such dazzling visuals.

Some movie special effects teams could learn a thing or two from the System Panel—this visual impact left no room for doubt.

As the couple watched the still-flowing streams of light with excitement, wuwang and his junior sister stole glances at Qin Qing, their shock seemingly no less than the couple’s.

The glowing streams gradually faded, and aside from the sleeping child, everything returned to normal.

Zhang Songlin shouted, “Daoist!”

Wuwang’s eyes flicked toward Qin Qing.

Qin Qing nodded slightly.

Wuwang said, “It’s done. You can pick up the child now.”

Zhang Songlin practically crawled to his son, clutching him tightly. His voice trembled with emotion: “I felt it—something warm was drawn out of my body just now.”

Chen Xiaoyuan echoed, “Yes, I felt it too. Daoist, we succeeded, didn’t we?”

Zhang Songlin exclaimed, “Honey, look at the baby’s face!”

All eyes turned to the child’s face. His lips had regained a normal color, and visually, his little cheeks looked no different from those of an ordinary child.

Chen Xiaoyuan joyfully pressed her ear to her son’s chest to listen to his heartbeat.

“It feels like it’s beating stronger.”

Zhang Songlin leaned in to listen too, grinning like a fool.

“I think I hear it too.”

They turned to Wuwang.

“Daoist?”

Wuwang, holding the ritual whisk in one hand, crouched down to check the child’s pulse.

His brows gradually furrowed.

Seeing this, the couple’s smiles slowly froze.

Qin Qing stepped in to explain: “No need to worry. How could such a serious illness be fully cured in one night? He’ll need to take medicine daily from now on. Full recovery will take at least one or two months.”

This hadn’t been discussed beforehand.

The couple looked to Wuwang. “Daoist?”

Wuwang exhaled, standing up with his whisk in hand. “Yes, you two will stay at the temple for the next two months. The temple will provide food and lodging, and you can volunteer here. It’s a way to accumulate merit.”

The couple was overjoyed, eagerly agreeing.

They couldn’t stop showering their still-sleeping child with affection.

Away from the family, Qin Qing briefly explained the issue of the healing duration.

“The medicine can’t be taken outside; they have to be supervised while taking it. You’ll need to arrange someone to prepare the decoctions, Daoist.”

Having witnessed such a miracle tonight, Wuwang’s mood was complex. He couldn’t help but glare at her. “Even safe prescriptions have some toxicity. How can they drink it every day?”

Qin Qing, admittedly out of her depth, said bluntly, “What do we do then?”

Now that they were all in this together, Wuwang didn’t expect Qin Qing to solve it. With a flick of his whisk, he said, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out.”

That was exactly what Qin Qing had been waiting to hear.

“Great.”

After half a night of commotion, Qin Qing surprisingly woke up early the next morning.

Stretching as she stepped out of the Monk’s Quarters, she spotted a young acolyte, his clothes askew, standing under the fruit-laden persimmon tree.

The child gazed up at the persimmons, scratching his head one moment and his backside the next.

As she approached, she realized it was Zhang Haochen.

Wow… the child, healed by merit, was like a different person compared to when she first saw him. He was practically a brand-new kid, full of life.

The child recognized her.

“Good morning, Daoist Sister!”

“Good morning, little friend.”

Qin Qing adjusted his crooked clothes and asked, “What are you looking at?”

“The persimmon fruits,” the child said, his thoughts unguarded. “Daoist Sister, are these fruits yummy?”

Qin Qing stood beside him, tilting her head up in the same way. “I’m curious too.”

The persimmons were impressive—large and round.

Some had turned golden, while others were still half-green, half-yellow.

The golden ones should be fully ripe, right?

The child, swallowing hard, said, “Baby doesn’t want to eat them. Baby’s a guest and shouldn’t take other people’s things.”

Qin Qing’s mind wandered to the crisp, sweet taste of persimmons. Her empty stomach growled faintly, and her mouth watered.

Speaking of which, she was a guest at Baiyun Temple too.

As a grown adult, she couldn’t be less polite than a child, could she?

But those golden fruits were right there, exuding an alluring sweet fragrance.

Something felt off.

She thought of her cooperation agreement with Baiyun Temple and the Taoist priest certificate on its way.

By that logic, she was at least half a member of the temple—not entirely a guest.

Whether she was a guest or one of them was a matter of perspective.

In relationships, being overly polite could sometimes keep people at a distance. Acting like one of them was the key to building closeness quickly.

Yes, that’s it.

Having mentally prepared herself, Qin Qing fully embraced her role.

As one of them, what was wrong with taking a couple of fruits?

She said to the kid, “Wait here. I’ll pick a couple to try.”

The child’s eyes sparkled with admiration.

The persimmon tree was old, its fruits hanging a bit high, unreachable by hand.

With no ladder in sight and assuming everyone was at the front hall for morning lessons, Qin Qing tucked the hem of her long Taoist robe into her waistband and climbed the tree.

She didn’t need to climb far. Not being greedy, she grabbed two fruits, caught them in her robe, and jumped down.

The child clapped in support from below.

The freshly picked fruits weren’t dirty—just a quick wipe with a tissue, and they were ready to eat.

One for the kid, one for her.

The two sat side by side under the tree, eagerly biting into their persimmons.

But after one bite…

“Pfft, pfft, pfft…”

The persimmons looked beautifully golden, but they were neither sour nor sweet—just astringent, so puckering that their mouth muscles spasmed, making it hard to even open their mouths again.

How could such a heretical fruit be planted in a public place!

Tossing the persimmon aside, Qin Qing couldn’t bear to give it another glance—it was that bad.

She looked at the child.

His little hands still clutched the persimmon tightly to his chest.

His tongue stuck out, his face crumpled as if he were about to cry.

And then he really did cry.

“Daoist Sister, this fruit is poisonous! I’ve been poisoned!”

“Hahahahaha…”

Qin Qing instantly felt the astringency in her mouth fade.

How could this kid be so adorable?

She laughed uncharitably for a moment before helping the child throw away his persimmon. Wiping away his teary “golden beans,” she said, “Don’t be scared, it’s not poison. The persimmon just isn’t ripe.”

The child was receptive to her words. Hearing Qin Qing’s explanation, he stopped crying.

Sniffling, he looked at the two bitten persimmons on the ground, his eyes surprisingly filled with a touch of compassion.

“Daoist Sister, these two fruits died so tragically.”

“Huh?” What kind of logic was that?

The child said, “Daoist Sister, they died before they could grow up. Won’t their mommy be really sad?”