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"Sir, are you here to offer incense or seek treatment?"
A young Daoist boy, only about twelve or thirteen years old, had just finished securing a woman's broken leg when he hurried over. He lifted his head to look at Qin Sang, and suddenly, his expression turned as if he had seen a ghost.
His eyes widened in shock, his face filled with astonishment.
Qin Sang’s heart stirred. "Little Daoist, do you know me?"
"Ma-Master..."
The young Daoist abruptly turned his head and shouted anxiously toward an older Daoist.
His cry immediately drew the attention of everyone in Qingyang Hall, and all eyes fell upon Qin Sang, filled with doubt and curiosity.
Qin Sang spread his hands innocently, indicating that he had done nothing to scare the child.
"What’s with the fuss? Did all your recitations of the Scripture of Tranquility amount to nothing?" The Daoist, who had been diagnosing...
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