h the risk to obtain them.Jing Yu was intelligent and saw Qin Sang's worry. He quickly said, "Daoist Qin just helped me escape, how could I be so heartless and deceive you This is the secret art of wa...When the boat reached the dock, Qin Sang also heard the old man tell him many stories about Ji Xin Dao Ren.

At first, the Qingyang Guan Temple on Cui Ming Mountain was prosperous. However, it gradually declined in later years. Taoists within the temple left one after another, and only a few elderly Taoists remained, eventually dying as well.

The Taoist temple was left unattended, becoming increasingly dilapidated. Weeds grew rampant, and if not for the efforts of Abbot Jixin, in just a few years, Qingyang Temple would have been reduced to nothing but crumbling ruins.

What people enjoyed most about Ji Xin Dao Ren was not his status as a Dharma Master, but his kind and righteous heart.

After taking over the Qingyang Temple with his young apprentice, he didn't seek fame or fortune. Instead, he went up the mountain every day to gather herbs and treat illnesses for the poor.

Those who suffered from injuries, cold and dampness, would only need to come to the door. The recluse, Jixin Daoist, would personally treat them with care. His medical skills might not be outstanding, but his consultation fees were very low.

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If he truly had no money, he could also keep records, but even if it was three or five years without repayment, he wouldn't go after it. His reputation gradually spread, and coupled with the status of the head of Qingyang Temple, he earned the moniker of a living immortal.

The old man stopped the boat in front of the dock, helping Qin Sang off while persuading him, "Brother Qin's leg injury isn't serious, the Living Immortal will surely be able to treat you. However, Cuiming Mountain is between Sānwū City and the ferry port, ten miles from here, and you have to walk a mountain path. Brother Qin should hire a carriage. I know a few coachmen who guarantee fair prices…"

Qin Sang declined the old man's kindness. Under the old man's disappointed gaze, he limped and squeezed into the crowd with his cane.

Walking among the crowd, Qin Sang heard dialects from all over, and secretly thought that Tiannan City was indeed well-known for its diverse population.

Due to his leg injury, Qin Sang walked with difficulty, and he really heard the dialect of his hometown. Looking towards the sound, he saw several people in silk on the bank directing laborers to load cargo onto a boat.

Watching them load the ship with cargo and sail away from the riverbank, Qin Sang remained silent. He finally turned and walked into a tavern.

After enjoying the delicious river fish and seafood, Qin Sang sat on the second floor, blowing the river wind, holding a teacup, and gazing out the window at the vast river surface and the busy crowd, she was lost in thought for a while.

"Waiter, check please!"

Let me know if you have any other text you'd like me to translate!

Qin Sang took out a piece of broken silver, watching the shopkeeper weigh it with a scale. Holding the copper coins he had found, he asked, “Thank you, shopkeeper. I want to go to Sanwu City. I wonder where I can hire a carriage”

The shopkeeper sized Qin Sang up and pointed outside. "Walk straight west down this street. At the end, there are a dozen or so carriage shops huddled together. They all do legitimate business and have plenty of carriages going to Sanwu City and the major ferry crossings."

Perhaps Qin Sang ate too much. The innkeeper kindly reminded him, "In this day and age... young master, it's best not to travel alone. Find a few people together and hire a carriage, which will be cheaper."

From the first intersection to Sanwu City, the terrain gradually rises. Several major ferry crossings leading into the city are located on this road. There are many pedestrians along the way, and the road is wide, flat, and relatively smooth for carriages.

Qin Sang got off the car at the foot of Cui Ming Mountain and looked up at the mountain in front of him. The path on the mountain looked a bit dangerous, and his legs weren't very nimble. He felt a little uneasy in his heart.

On both sides of the Wuling River, mountains rise and fall. Cui Mingshan is just one peak in this long mountain range, and it's not very conspicuous among the other mountains.

Though Cui Mingshan has its unique charm and spirituality, with dense forests concealing temples and pavilions, their flying eaves and upturned corners occasionally peek out. Sometimes the long chime of a bell resonates through the mountains, clearing one's mind.

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Qin Sang heard several stories about strange and eerie spirits in Cui Mingshan from the coachman, and he wondered if the temples and Taoist monasteries had chosen Cui Mingshan because of these legends, or if they had appeared after the monasteries were built.

Qin Sang struggled to climb halfway up the mountain before encountering several others who were also going to Qingyang Guan for medical treatment. They helped him reach Qingyang Guan, which was located on the hillside of the back mountain.

Qin Sang leaned on his cane and stood before the gate of Qingyang Guan.

The Taoist temple is quite large. Surrounding the temple are vast bamboo groves. The afternoon sun wasn't too scorching, and the bamboo leaves rustled softly in the breeze.

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Because the mountain was steep, standing outside one could still see the tiers of buildings within. The architectural style was similar to Taoist temples Qin Sang had seen in her past life, but they were all severely dilapidated. Broken roof tiles were everywhere, and patches of thatched grass peeked out from beneath them, suggesting that few roofs effectively kept out the rain.

You can hear people talking inside, and there seem to be quite a few of them.

Qin Sang walked step by step along the stone steps, entering the temple. Above the threshold, three characters "Qingyang Guan" were engraved on the lintel, and two dilapidated wooden doors hung crookedly on either side, their hinges rusted with age.

Upon entering, there is a large courtyard with haystacks, a donkey pen, an ancient well, a hand-cranked pulley, a millstone, and a stone mortar. There are two courtyards, one smaller for growing vegetables and the larger one containing plants Qin Sang did not recognize, likely herbs.

Behind the courtyard, there are several steps leading up to a high platform. On top of the platform stands a large hall, the biggest and most magnificent in the entire Qingyang Guan temple complex, and also the best-maintained one.

Above the main hall hung a wooden plaque, with bold characters that read "Qingyang Hall." The paint on the characters was almost worn away.

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It doesn't look like a place where immortals would live.

Let me know if you have any other text you'd like me to translate!

Qin Sang let out a sigh. Just as he was about to enter, three people pushed the door open and came out. Two ragged men were carrying an elderly woman with a pale face. As they walked out, they kept turning their heads to thank the person inside and promised to bring the consultation fee next month.

Qin Sang knew that there were really immortals in this world. He dared not have any disrespect, and his expression also became solemn. He walked lightly into the Qingyang Hall.

The main hall was vast, with large patches of the painted murals on the walls peeling and flaking, making it impossible to discern what they originally depicted.

Only the three statues in the main hall were vibrantly colored and looked brand new. Both the painting and carving work were exceptionally exquisite.

On the table, a single incense stick burned, smoke curling gently, filling the room with a sweet fragrance.

On one side of the offering table stood a long table and two cabinets, one filled with medicine and the other with scriptures. Behind the long table, a withered old Taoist sat cross-legged like a pine tree, checking the pulse of an elderly man.

The old Taoist priest had white beard and hair, but his face didn't look old. His eyes were especially bright, sparkling with life. A strand of snow-white long beard flowed down to his chest, truly giving him an air of otherworldly refinement. He wore a blue Daoist robe, washed so many times it was slightly faded, but very clean.

To his right were a brush, ink, paper, and inkstone. To his left was a medicine chest, along with strange tools like a pestle, cinnabar, yellow paper, and a writing tube.

He must be Jixing Daoist, Qin Sang thought.

"Sir, are you here to incense or seek treatment"

Qin Sang followed the sound and saw a young Taoist priest, about thirteen or fourteen years old, emerge from the crowd of people waiting to see a doctor. His Daoist robe was somewhat too large for him, making him look rather comical. He had a clean and innocent appearance.

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Remembering the old man who rowed a boat said that Ji Xin Dao Ren had an apprentice, Qin Sang smiled on his face, "The little Taoist priest is polite. My surname is Qin. I injured my leg the other day and please ask the Taoist priest to help me take a look."

The little Taoist fetched a small wooden stool, “Please sit down, Master Qin.”

Qin Sang sat down according to his words. The little Taoist lifted Qin Sang's injured leg, reached out and touched the bones, and said: "Young Master Qin, your leg bone is not broken, it might be some bone fracture. Take some bone-setting soup medicine, and it will be able to heal in a short time. If you are not in a hurry, you can sit and wait for my master to take a look at you."

Qin Sang came here specifically for the old Taoist priest, naturally agreeing readily, "Thank you, Daoist."ely channeled his demonic fire, erecting a wall of flames before him."Whew!"The firewall successfully blocked the demonic wind.As the evil wind was scattered, a phantom figure brushed against the demo...