As soon as Magistrate Lin left, Lin Zhongsi asked Dalang, “When did the old monk set the rule of only seeing five patients a day? I didn’t know about this.”
“Haha, it was decided today,” came a voice as the curtain on the inner door was lifted. Lin Fang, dressed in a snow-white dress, ran out with a mischievous grin, followed by Li Cuimei, who shook her head in amusement.
Lin Zhongsi finally understood. “Ah, you little imp! So it was you causing trouble. Quickly tell your second grandfather what’s really going on.”
Hugging Dalang’s arm, Lin Fang raised her thumb in praise. “Hehe, it was Father who was clever. I just had Liu Ma mention the ‘old monk’ to him. My intention was to steer the conversation toward the old monk, no matter what the magistrate’s real purpose was. The old monk always speaks in riddles and ambiguities. Once the magistrate meets him, the old monk will naturally handle him. Haha, what a coincidence that the magistrate happened to be looking for the old monk—it’s like being given a pillow when you’re sleepy!”
Lin Zhongsi had seen Liu Ma whisper something in Dalang’s ear earlier, but he still didn’t understand. “What does this have to do with the old monk only seeing five patients a day?”
Dalang laughed. “I just made it up on the spot. I didn’t expect the magistrate to actually believe it.”
“Hahaha, now the old monk will have some fun with this.” Such schadenfreude! If the old monk had been present, he would have surely fought with Lin Zhongsi.
While these few were delighting in the old monk’s predicament, the monk himself, upon receiving Lin Fang’s covert message at Zixing Temple, was both amused and exasperated.
The Lin family knew him well. Though he enjoyed lively company, he detested empty formalities. Now, the Lin family had handed him the task of dealing with the magistrate’s pretense. Clearly, this was Lin Fang’s revenge on him—for knowing full well she couldn’t tolerate spicy food yet hiding the spiciness in the dishes just to see her reaction. After one bite, the little girl had fallen asleep at the dinner table.
As for the claim that his consultation slots were fully booked for the next few days and that his patients were all wealthy or noble, it was entirely the old monk’s doing. The list he showed Magistrate Lin contained real names—his actual patients, though most had been treated in the past, either after he settled in Lin Village or during his travels. None were scheduled for the coming days. He was confident the magistrate wouldn’t dare verify with them.
Magistrate Lin truly believed the old monk’s words. He begged the monk to schedule an earlier appointment for his mother, but the monk replied, “After treating the patrons on this list, it will be time for my annual retreat to devoutly worship the Buddha. This cannot be delayed. Otherwise, not only Zixing Temple but also the hundreds of people in Lin Village—and even those connected to it, such as the refugees settled nearby or, say, Your Honor standing in this temple—may face calamity.”
“How could that be?” The magistrate was shocked. “I’m only here seeking medical help. How does that make me connected to Lin Village? Besides, this is a temple, not the Lin family ancestral hall. If you miss your retreat, why would it only affect those tied to the Lin family?”
“Amitabha. Does Your Honor not know? This mountain belongs to the Lin family, and this temple was built by them. All of us at Zixing Temple are sustained by the Lin family.”
The old monk’s words left the magistrate’s heart in turmoil. So, this renowned temple was merely the Lin family’s private shrine, and this esteemed monk was just their household cleric. Anyone treated by him would be considered connected to Lin Village. Those noble patients, seeking wealth and safety, would naturally protect the Lin family—making them untouchable for him.
Magistrate Lin was truly filial. His mother had been paralyzed for years, and despite consulting countless doctors, none had been able to help. Hearing of the old monk’s miraculous cures, he had hoped his mother might finally recover. Unwilling to give up, he asked when the monk would end his retreat. The monk said it would last at least a month, so the magistrate begged to be the first in line afterward.
After a moment’s thought, the old monk said, “Your Honor need not wait for me. The aunt of Lin Village’s master, Madam Tong, once worked alongside me when I served as a guard-physician. Her medical skills surpass mine, especially in gynecology. Given your mother’s long-standing paralysis, even if recovery is possible, it will be a slow and painful process. Madam Tong would be far more suitable for her care than I.”
This left the magistrate utterly bewildered. He knew Lin Zhongsi had been a sixth-rank guard—only slightly higher than himself—but because Lin often dealt with high-ranking officials, he was someone the magistrate couldn’t afford to offend. Yet he never imagined Lin’s wife had also been a guard, a physician no less, and one more skilled than the revered monk. Now his mother’s hope lay with the Lin family. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry—was this fortune or misfortune? He had intended to exploit the Lin family, but now his mother’s fate rested in their hands.
Watching the magistrate descend the mountain, the old monk smirked in triumph. A middle-aged monk beside him asked, “Master, you’ve pushed the magistrate back to the Lin family. Aren’t you afraid the sixth young lady will seek revenge? I heard she’s learned a new poison from Master Shen.”
“Hehehe, then we’ll just go traveling. Tell everyone it’s an emergency and I’ve begun my retreat early.”
Though he spoke lightly, the old monk inwardly cursed Master Shen for corrupting a good child. He also marveled at how Lin Fang couldn’t distinguish proper medicine yet picked up poisons with alarming speed. And though he enjoyed teasing her, did she really have to test every new poison on him?
By the time Lin Fang arrived at Zixing Temple with Lin Wu as her escort, the old monk had already “entered retreat.” Fuming, Lin Fang huffed in frustration. Lin Wu chuckled. “Don’t be angry, little sister. As the saying goes, ‘The monk may run away, but the temple remains.’ This temple is on our land. Unless he never returns, we’ll have our revenge.”
That calmed her. Lin Fang told the interim abbot, “Miss Sima and I are developing new vegetarian dishes. Once perfected, we’ll add them to the temple’s menu. But the first to taste them must be the most revered person in the temple—those absent need not apply. Pass this along.”
Everyone knew this message was for the old monk. The monks, long accustomed to his antics, smiled knowingly. The interim abbot solemnly agreed, already imagining the old monk’s tantrum upon missing out on the new dishes.
After a thorough examination, Madam Tong told Magistrate Lin his mother might regain the ability to walk, but it would require prolonged acupuncture, massage, herbal medicine, and medicated plasters—a painful and lengthy process demanding great patience. Even if successful, she might never move as freely as before.
The mere words “there’s hope” filled the magistrate with joy. After years of doctors declaring his mother incurable, he bowed deeply to Madam Tong, vowing rich rewards if she succeeded.
Madam Tong, accustomed to such emotional reactions from patients and families who’d long given up hope, merely nodded calmly.
Magistrate Lin’s mother had borne five children, with him being the eldest. During each pregnancy, she suffered severe leg and back pain, becoming paralyzed before delivery. Though she recovered somewhat after childbirth, each time left her worse than before. After her fifth child—born lifeless due to her exhaustion—she never walked again.
Pregnancy-induced back and leg pain, caused by the shifting spine compressing nerves, was common. Warm compresses and massage could alleviate it, and severe cases could take harmless painkillers. Symptoms usually vanished after birth. But if the mother had preexisting spinal issues, like Magistrate Lin’s mother, the damage could become irreversible.
Madam Tong had treated similar cases before. One elderly woman eventually walked again using a stool for support, moving it forward and dragging herself along. With time, she progressed to walking unaided, albeit slowly.
Now in her sixties like her patient, Madam Tong often reminisced with Magistrate Lin’s mother during treatments. She spoke indignantly of how Dalang had been abandoned, cursing Lin Boshi and Dong Shi at every opportunity.
One day, after applying acupuncture, Madam Tong was teaching a maid new massage techniques when the old woman stared at her intently. “Madam,” she asked, “is something troubling you?”
After a hesitant pause, the woman whispered, “Second Madam… do you truly not recognize me?”
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