Chapter 25: The Green Omen (7)

The fish has bitten the hook; it’s time for the fisherman to reel in the line.
Everyone mounted a fast horse and followed Nan Jiyun to trace their trail.
It turned out that Nan and Lei had been following those three members of the Green Guests’ Alliance under the pretense of riding horses. Eventually, they saw the three men unload their belongings and slip through a side door of a pharmacy called “Fate-Linked.”
The pharmacy wasn’t large, but there were many patients waiting outside. After asking around, they learned that the pharmacy also provided medical services. The doctor there, Wan, was quite peculiar—he didn’t stay in one place like other doctors but traveled from place to place. When he returned satisfied, he would raise two crude medical banners made of white cloth in front of the shop to announce his return. Strangely enough, despite Wan’s “carefree” lifestyle, whenever those banners appeared on the street, people from nearby villages and towns would help each other rush to “Fate-Linked Pharmacy.” There was no other reason—Wan’s medical skills were extraordinary; he could bring the dead back to life. These days, it’s easy to kill living people, but reviving the dead truly requires skill. Even ants strive to survive, let alone humans. As the old saying goes, “Medicine cannot cure all diseases, but Buddha helps those destined to be saved.” As long as there’s a glimmer of hope, those diagnosed with terminal illnesses would still try their luck at Wan’s clinic—after all, maybe they were the “fated” ones.
Li Kuo finally managed to squeeze to the front of the shop. Looking up, he saw a couple of couplets written on the banners.
The upper couplet read: “Throughout China, there are relatives—no matter where you were born or raised.”
The lower couplet read: “When spring breeze arrives, flowers bloom everywhere; all one can smell is patchouli and costus.”
The content was simple and humorous. The young man nodded at the others and stepped into the pharmacy.
The pharmacy was thoughtfully arranged. There were three counters for getting medicine, separated by pine planks, starting from the west wall. A pleasant aroma of herbs wafted out, soothing the mind. Two bamboo poles stood two feet in front of each counter, with a red silk strip stretched between them. Those picking up medicine had to stand behind the red silk—both for cleanliness and to avoid crowding. A few wicker chairs were placed near the entrance, but few people sat there. Most of those who came to buy medicine were servants from nearby gentry households. They grabbed their medicine and hurried away, fearing punishment from their masters if they wasted even a moment.

In the center of the pharmacy stood a screen with a semi-old dark green floral-patterned coarse cloth lining. By leaning slightly forward, one could see that a long queue had already formed on the other side of the screen—people either with worried expressions or looking forward eagerly, all silently hoping it would be their turn to be seen. The reason was simple: Dr. Wan had an unwritten rule of seeing only a hundred patients per day. There was a pharmacist’s assistant keeping track of the numbers, and once that limit was reached, whether you were a high-ranking official or a homeless beggar, Dr. Wan would simply leave without breaking the rule.

Seeing there were indeed too many patients waiting, Li Kuo lost interest in getting treated and instead walked over to the medicine pickup counter on the left. Perhaps by chance, no one was picking up medicine at the moment.

With his mind elsewhere, Li Kuo casually handed over a common prescription for a cold. The pharmacy clerk quickly prepared the medicine according to the prescription and called out loudly, “One tael of Angelica dahurica, half a tael of raw licorice, three slices of ginger, three inches of green onion white, one jujube, and fifty Goji berries. Here you go, please take care of it.” After saying that, he handed the wrapped medicine to Li Kuo and took the payment before leaving.

Seeing nothing else to investigate, Li Kuo took the medicine pack and turned to leave. Just as he reached the door, he heard a warm and strong voice from the right side of the screen: “This prescription is for those with a cold in the body; it’s useless for those with a cold in the heart. Young man, your complexion is rosy and your voice is strong and clear—you don’t seem to have a cold. It might not be appropriate for you to take this medicine.”

Li Kuo was shocked. Could this person be the legendary Dr. Wan? He recognized that my voice wasn’t unusual, but how could he see my face through the screen?

“If you truly want to cure a cold in the heart, I’m willing to make an exception this once,” came the gentle voice again, as smooth as jade.

It turned out that by the time this voice spoke, Dr. Wan had already seen his daily quota of a hundred patients. Everyone sighed and left. Although they were comforted by the pharmacist’s assistant, saying Dr. Wan would still be there the next day, if he suddenly decided to go on a traveling clinic trip, they wouldn’t even be able to cry.

Li Kuo wanted to find out if this doctor was really as remarkable as he was said to be, so why not give it a try? But the disappointed patients looking at Li Kuo carried mixed emotions—jealousy, envy, and more. After all, this young boy clearly had two eyes and a mouth—why would Dr. Wan make an exception for him?

Feeling a bit intimidated by the gazes of the patients, the young man stepped forward quickly and arrived in front of Dr. Wan in a few strides.

The pharmacist’s assistant stepped forward to pull back the curtain and stood beside Dr. Wan, bowing slightly.

At first glance, he was truly shocked. A square black headscarf worn white from washing, a gray coarse cloth robe patched with spots, and a pair of faded hemp boots. No matter how he looked at it, Li Kuo couldn’t associate this outfit with the title of “miracle doctor.” Although doctors should aim to heal the sick, even those bearing the title of miracle doctor, if not making vast sums of money daily, should at least be able to afford decent clothes, right?

Seeming to sense Li Kuo’s doubts, the young apprentice behind Doctor Wan puffed out his chest and declared loudly, “Our master is not like those mediocre doctors and commoners. He never charges for treating illnesses. Of course, he can’t wear gold and silver or fine clothes.”

Seeing that there was no one outside the curtain, Doctor Wan waved his hand, signaling the apprentice to step back. To be honest, he wasn’t very old—probably in his forties at most. Perhaps due to his frequent travels to treat patients, his skin was tanned a wheat-colored, and combined with his shabby outfit, it made one assume he was an old man with gray hair.

“You must be wondering why I’m breaking my twenty-year tradition of practicing medicine for you.”

Doctor Wan studied the young man before him thoughtfully before saying solemnly, “Actually, I’m a rather casual person. But I’ve only done things purely on instinct twice in my life. You don’t need to explain that you’re here to pick up medicine for relatives or friends—I’ve heard that excuse hundreds of times. You don’t need to pick up medicine here, and I don’t need to conduct a consultation just because of an exception. Everything in life is determined by fate. Wouldn’t living by strict rules be exhausting?”

Li Kuo was somewhat confused by his words, but after calming himself down a bit, he asked gently, “Then, in your opinion, what is the reason for my coming to this pharmacy this time?”

Doctor Wan seemed not to hear Li Kuo’s question and continued fiddling with the jade ring on his left thumb. To outsiders, it might have been the only valuable item on this poor doctor’s person.

“The Buddha originally created eight divisions: the Deva Army, the Dragon Army, the Yaksha Army, the Gandharva Army, the Asura Army, the Garuda Army, the Cinnara Army, and the Mahoraga Army. Together, they’re called the Eight Divisions of Heaven and Dragon. Among them, the Garuda Army refers to the ‘golden-winged bird gods’ who feed on dragons.”

After a pause, Doctor Wan suddenly sharpened his gaze and said coldly, “You must be wondering why everyone in the Qingke Alliance has a green dragon tattooed on their back, right?”

Li Kuo’s heart sank. At first, he had wondered why Doctor Wan wanted to keep him. Now it seemed there must be a reason—likely their whereabouts had already been discovered, and he was the foolish fish who hadn’t realized he was being used as bait. With a bitter smile, the young man nodded and said, “I’d like to hear more about it.”

Dr. Wan let out a soft sigh and said, “Buddhism originated in India and has endured through numerous dynasties since it entered the Central Plains without declining. It was not until the end of the Southern and Northern Dynasties that there were acts of killing and destroying Buddhist statues. To protect themselves, some Buddhist disciples fled to the northern deserts. One of their groups merged with the local shamanism and grew stronger. Since the tribes in the northern deserts combined politics and religion, the Turkic khans secretly ordered the formation of a secret sect army, calling themselves the Eight Heavenly Dragons.”
“And the Green Guests Alliance is one of these Eight Heavenly Dragons?”
“I enjoy talking to intelligent people.”
Dr. Wan stared intently at Li Kuo, seemingly trying to discern more from him. “The Garuda Clan was the predecessor of the Green Guests Alliance. During the chaos of the early Sui Dynasty, the Eight Heavenly Dragons entered the Central Plains to support King Li Mi of the Wei. Unfortunately, he lacked the qualities of a ruler; not only did he lose his life and allow the Li Tang dynasty to seize the imperial throne, but many of our elite members also perished in the Central Plains. Since the establishment of the Tang dynasty, the Turkic khans have become weaker generation after generation, until the point of national destruction. In search of revival, the members of the Eight Clans hid their identities, either by attaching themselves to other tribes or simply adopting Han surnames. Finally, today, we have found our chance.”
“You’ve connected with influential figures in the court, which led to the formation of the Green Guests Alliance?”
“Yes. Using the name of the Eight Heavenly Dragons in the Central Plains is inconvenient, so that nobleman gave us this name. Yet he doesn’t realize that Garudas feed on dragons, not that they honor them.”
With that, Dr. Wan smirked eerily, his eyes gleaming with murderous intent.
“You’ve lured the people of the Tang dynasty into the Green Guests Alliance to undermine them from within, and then spread that prophecy poem to disrupt public morale?”
The young man felt his back shirt become soaked, yet he still tried to keep his voice calm.
“You’re wrong!”
Dr. Wan suddenly became fierce: “How could the Buddha’s prophecy be wrong? We waited nearly a hundred years for this moment of upheaval and transformation. The Buddha predicted this change a hundred years in advance and left behind that prophecy poem. It’s all fate, it’s all destiny!”
“No, no—there’s no such thing as supernatural forces in this world, none at all!”
The young man couldn’t believe his ears. Everything that had happened today felt like a dream, but was it really just a dream?
“Would I go to the trouble of joking with a dead man?”
Dr. Wan’s gaze turned icy. With a quick twist of his left wrist, a swarm of silver needles flew toward Li Kuo!
The young man was stunned, unable to react at all.
“Get out of the way!”
Nan Jiyun leaped into the compartment, pushing Li Kuo to the side. Drawing his sword, he advanced instead of retreating!

The green blade is like a full moon; the sword energy resembles a shooting star. Wherever the blade touches, silver needles scatter across the ground. Nan Jiyun stands there, holding the sword with ease, just like Kasyapa holding a flower.
Note 1: This recipe was found online; don’t take it seriously.