Chapter Eleven: Widow Qin

Gone, taken away?

Confused, Fang Xiao only understood what had happened after listening to Huaishu’s tearful recounting. It turned out that when she returned home yesterday, her sister noticed her cheeks were bulging suspiciously. The elder sibling grew suspicious and asked her about it. Huaishu, feeling guilty, didn’t dare answer. In the end, her sister forcefully pried open her mouth and snatched away the milk candy she’d been hiding! Huaishu cried all night over it and was still heartbroken.

Fang Xiao found the story both baffling and amusing, but seeing the little girl so genuinely upset, he rummaged through his satchel and unwrapped his last White Rabbit milk candy, handing it to her.

“Wow!”

Seeing the creamy, fragrant candy before her eyes, Huaishu’s tears vanished instantly and she beamed: “Thank you, Brother Fang!”

“No need to thank me,” Fang Xiao replied, scratching his head and smiling.

He had lost his father early, and his mother not long after, leaving him often alone and isolated. So hearing Huaishu call him “Brother” so sweetly and obediently warmed his heart.

After some thought, he placed the candy wrapper back into his satchel, stacking it with another wrapper already inside. Since the empty lunchboxes could magically refill themselves with buns and braised pork, perhaps the wrappers could also produce new milk candies. There was no harm in trying!

With Qin’s arrival, the small Daoist temple grew livelier, filled with the bustle of ordinary life. Using the ingredients she’d brought and the supplies in the kitchen, she soon prepared a meal that looked and tasted quite proper: steamed cured pork, wild vegetable soup, pan-fried tiny fish, sliced pig’s ear, and a plate of large steamed buns. While not exactly lavish, it was enough to satisfy Fang Xiao and improve his impression of Qin, even if she was a female demon—at least she could cook!

As for Daoist Pang, he was beside himself with joy, treating the meal as if it were a feast in the Immortal Pools. He devoured everything greedily, praising each dish between bites, his face aglow with delight, occasionally exchanging flirtatious glances with Qin, utterly ignoring both Fang Xiao and Huaishu, the two minors present.

Fang Xiao, to spare himself from Daoist Pang’s eye-popping expressions, took a bun stuffed with cured pork and pig’s ear and retreated to a corner by the wall to continue eating.

After dinner, Daoist Pang personally escorted Qin and her daughter Huaishu down the mountain. As she left, Huaishu quietly waved her little hand at Fang Xiao.

Once he was full, Fang Xiao didn’t idle; he quickly cleaned up the dishes, washed them, and returned them to the cupboard.

As night fell, Daoist Pang returned to the temple humming a tune. Seeing Fang Xiao in the courtyard flipping through a booklet, he called out, “Fang Xiao, come for a bath!”

The medicinal pot was soon set up again. Fang Xiao had long noticed that Daoist Pang’s robe sleeves seemed to hide a vast warehouse—he could produce anything he needed, a marvel in itself.

Having gone through this the previous night, Fang Xiao didn’t wait for instructions. When the potion in the pot began to bubble, he immediately stripped off his outer garment and sat in.

Compared to practicing the Dragon-Tiger Stance, soaking in medicinal liquids was far more comfortable. As the powerful medicine roared through his body, Fang Xiao quietly endured, when Daoist Pang suddenly spoke: “That Qin is a pitiful woman.”

“Uh?” Fang Xiao replied, unsure.

But Daoist Pang wasn’t interested in conversation; he continued, “Her husband died young…”

Three years earlier, Qin’s husband had met with a fatal accident while chopping wood in the mountains, leaving no remains behind. Qin was left to care for her widowed mother-in-law and raise two young daughters alone—a hardship beyond words. Worse still, she was quite attractive, and without a husband to defend her, she easily became the target of gossip and trouble in the village, nearly unable to survive.

When Daoist Pang first arrived at Little Jing Mountain, passing through Zhenjia Village, he happened upon Qin being harassed by idle men. He stepped in, taught the troublemakers a lesson, and thus came to know Qin.

Moved by her difficult life, Daoist Pang hired her to deliver food to the temple daily. With a cultivator as her employer, no one in Zhenjia Village dared bother her and her daughters again—a deed of kindness and virtue.

Out of gratitude, Qin often helped with cleaning and chores. Over time, the two became familiar.

“Cough, cough!” Daoist Pang cleared his throat and concluded, “Fang Xiao, don’t misunderstand. Qin and I are purely platonic, yes, purely platonic!”

Fang Xiao couldn’t help but glance at him. Young as he was, he wasn’t ignorant or foolish—Daoist Pang’s intentions were as obvious as the sun.

Daoist Pang, sensing the holes in his story, gave an awkward laugh and added, “Qin’s daughters—the younger is called Huaishu, the elder is Xiaodang.”

He looked proud. “I named both girls myself!”

Fang Xiao was puzzled—what was there to boast about?

Seeing Fang Xiao’s lack of understanding, Daoist Pang sighed regretfully. He flicked the horsetail whisk in his hand, causing the fire beneath the pot to flare up, raising the temperature of the medicinal bath. At first, Fang Xiao felt nothing, but soon he was forced to endure. At last, unable to bear it any longer, he threw his head back and howled.

“Ah—”

There was no other way; if he didn’t yell, the heat surging through him would surely burst him apart.

His cries echoed through the nearby woods, frightening many little grass sprites hiding among the bushes into fleeing.

...

The next morning, Fang Xiao, relying on sheer willpower, struggled up from his bed. The first thing he did was grab the military satchel hanging by his bedside and check inside.

In the three aluminum lunchboxes, the buns, dumplings, and braised pork had reappeared, just as expected. But to his delight, two perfectly wrapped White Rabbit milk candies lay quietly at the bottom of the satchel.

It really worked!

Fang Xiao now understood his treasure much better. However, he also noticed that several banknotes and ration coupons that had been in the satchel were missing. He guessed that after another “refresh,” they’d be gone completely.

Daoist Pang had explained—no magical item creates something from nothing; there must always be a price.

Clearly, the banknotes and ration coupons were the price for the food in the boxes, including the two milk candies.

Fang Xiao considered this fair.

The question was, once the banknotes and ration coupons were used up, would the supply of food be cut off? Could he use silver instead?

Fang Xiao pondered this and decided that once his coupons ran out, he’d borrow some silver from Daoist Pang and give it a try!

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