Notes on Longevity

Chapter 4: A Safe Encounter in the Snow, A Chance Encounter with a Beggar in His Destitute House

In the winding alleyways, the beggar boy waved his arms, demonstrating the boxing techniques he had learned to the old man.

As a result, because the snow underfoot was too thick, he tripped over himself and fell to the ground while turning around.

"Grandpa, look, there's someone here."

The beggar boy fell down at the entrance of an alley. Just as he was about to get up, he saw a person sitting at the entrance of the alley with his head down.

The beggar boy got up, brushed the snow off his clothes, picked up the medicine from the snow, and walked towards the old man, glancing back every few steps as he went.

Upon hearing this, the old man frowned and, supported by the beggar boy, walked to the alley entrance, looking at the thinly dressed man sitting on the snow with his head down.

"I wonder which poor child was kidnapped and escaped this time."

The old man shook his head and gently touched the child, but there was no response.

The beggar boy beside him put down the old man's hands, squatted down in front of the child, and shook him vigorously.

The child, who had fallen into a deep sleep due to hunger and cold, was awakened by the beggar boy's shaking. He slowly raised his head in a daze, and his delicate face and somewhat dazed look came into view. This child was none other than Ping An, who had run away from the Drunken Flower Brothel during the day.

After Ping An ran out of the Drunken Flower Pavilion, looking at the empty streets, tears streamed uncontrollably down her face as she began searching for a way out of the city.

Now all he wants is to leave the city, to return to the dilapidated temple in the forest, and to be back by his master's side.

He searched around but couldn't find his way. Instead, he saw a group of men gathered together, looking for something.

After he realized what was happening, he turned into a side alley.

Fuyang City was, after all, the capital. The winding alleys made Ping An dizzy and disoriented. By evening, he was shivering from hunger and the cold wind. Finally, he couldn't hold on any longer and sat down against the wall at the entrance of an alley until the two people arrived.

Don't you have a home either?

The beggar boy looked at the absent-minded Ping An and asked a question, but the old man patted him on the head.

"You child, why are you always so outspoken!"

The beggar boy, after being hit on the head by the old man, pouted and stood behind him.

"Child, what's your name? Where do you live?"

Ping An was somewhat dazed by the old man's words and subconsciously said, "My name is Ping An, my master is Qingxuan Daoist, Zouma Temple, to save my master..."

After saying this, Ping An collapsed to the side, and the old man and the beggar boy quickly helped him up.

"A quick glance!" The beggar boy, supporting Ping An, looked at the old man with some surprise: "Grandpa, is he a Taoist priest?!"

"Alright, let's not talk about this anymore, let's take the person back first."

The old man patted the beggar boy on the head and walked straight ahead.

The beggar boy responded with an "oh" to the old man, then immediately carried Ping An on his back and followed.

After navigating two narrow alleys, the three arrived at a relatively narrow path.

After crossing the path, a dilapidated little door appeared before them.

The beggar boy pushed open the door, carried Ping An inside first, and the old man followed closely behind, closing the door behind him.

After entering through the small door, there was a small hall, which was very clean. Apart from two lit candles, it was empty.

Passing through the small hall, you enter a larger room with two beds. On one of the beds lies a child of about five or six years old. He is covered with two faded, not-too-thick, blankets, and his face is pale; he is clearly ill.

The beggar boy placed Ping An on another bed, covered him with a faded blanket, then carried the medicine to another door and pushed it open.

There was another boy, older than the beggar boy, squatting in front of the fire.

Although the young man was dressed in tattered clothes, his face was clean and handsome, and his brows exuded a heroic spirit and a noble air.

On either side of the fire was a wooden frame, and in the middle of the frame was a hollow, black iron ring suspended by wire, on which sat a pot for burning medicine.

The boy held a small palm-leaf fan in his hand, gently fanning the fire. When he heard the door open, he turned his head and saw the beggar boy carrying a medicine bag grinning at him.

"Corn, can't you change your silly ways?"

The boy, nicknamed "Corn," who was carrying a medicine bag, patted his chest and slowly walked to his side: "No, am I being silly? Zhou Zhou, I call this boldness and carefree spirit."

Zhou Zhou rolled her eyes at him, "You spend all day hanging out with those chivalrous knights and swordsmen, but I haven't seen you learn much from them. Besides, that's not being carefree, that's being an idiot."

"Hey, you're the son of a military general, your kung fu must be pretty good too. How about we have a match?" Yumi immediately perked up at this suggestion, put the medicine bag aside, and assumed a fighting stance towards Zhou Zhou.

"I can't be bothered with you." Zhou Zhou stopped replying and focused on fanning the fire with a palm leaf fan while brewing the medicine.

"Tch, I can't be bothered with you." Yumi snorted, picked up the medicine bag, walked over to Zhou Zhou, handed him the bag, and casually asked, "By the way, is there any porridge left for the afternoon?"

"Yes, what's wrong?" Zhou Zhou replied.

"After the medicine was brewed, we heated up the porridge. My grandfather and I brought back another child."

After saying that, Yu Mi patted Zhou Zhou on the head and then ran out laughing like a rabbit.

Zhou Zhou stared speechlessly at the spot where the corn had disappeared. "He's sick."

Zhou Zhou put down her palm-leaf fan, picked up the medicine bag, and walked to a huge medicine cabinet behind her, muttering to herself, "If I hadn't been implicated by someone ten years ago, I would be a general by now. Right, sister?"

As soon as Yumi ran out of the room where the medicine was being burned, she saw the old man sitting next to Ping An, with one hand on his wrist, taking his pulse.

"What's wrong with Grandpa?" Yumi walked over to the old man and asked softly.

"Is there anything left to eat?"

The old man didn't answer the question about corn, but instead breathed a sigh of relief and asked him if there was anything else to eat.

"There was some porridge left over from the afternoon, so I asked Zhou Zhou to heat it up after he finished brewing the medicine."

Yumi glanced at Ping An lying on the bed and answered.

"I was just hungry, and on top of that, I caught a cold in this cold and snowy weather."

"A cold?" Yumi asked, puzzled. "In such cold weather and with so much snow, he's been out in the snow for so long. Is he just suffering from a cold?"

"You child! Can't you say something nice?" The old man patted Yumi's head again and again. This time was different. In the past, he would just say a few words, but this time his words were clearly filled with anger.

Corn was stunned for a moment, then, remembering the identity of the Taoist priest, she immediately lowered her head and apologized to the old man: "I'm sorry, Grandpa, Corn knows she was wrong."

"Alright." The old man waved his hand and said to Yumi, "Go check if the medicine for Xiaoyuchi is ready. If not, go and get Zhou Zhou out."

(End of this chapter)