Chapter 751 Building a Temple

Ruyi carried the lunchbox and returned to the secluded courtyard. She placed the dishes on the few tables.

Duan Rong had hidden on Wuji Mountain for a day and a night, without a drop of water, his stomach long since empty. Now, looking at the steaming dishes, his appetite surged, and like a wind sweeping away clouds, he polished off the steamed pork and the bowl in front of him. Even the pot of yellow wine was drained to the bottom.

Duan Rong put down his bowl and chopsticks and wiped his mouth, letting out a comfortable burp.

Ruyi immediately brought over freshly brewed tea.

While sipping a few mouthfuls of clear tea, Duan Rong watched Ruyi tidying up the bowls and chopsticks and said, "Ruyi, go fetch paper and brush."

"Paper and brush?" Ruyi’s expression changed; since Duan Rong moved into the courtyard, he hadn’t touched paper and brush.

Ruyi gave a courtesy bow, placed the lunchbox in the corner, and after wiping her hands with a handkerchief, she went to the cabinet by the wall, opened a drawer, and took out the Four Treasures of the Study, then prepared the ink for Duan Rong.

Duan Rong rested for a while, and when he got up, he saw Ruyi at the table, elegantly grinding ink with one hand while lifting her sleeve with the other.

Duan Rong smiled faintly, "You grind ink quite skillfully, don’t you?"

Ruyi kept her head down and replied softly, "In the courtyard, my mother taught me personally."

Duan Rong replied with a simple "Oh" and calmly sat at the table. The ink in the inkstone was pitch-black and abundant. He picked up a brush from the brush rack, dipped it slightly in ink, and began writing on the white paper.

As soon as Duan Rong started writing, Ruyi retreated to a distance, standing silently. She wasn’t sure what secret Duan Rong was writing. Even if she wanted to know, she now had to leave.

After a few breaths, Duan Rong put down the brush, glanced at Ruyi, and pulled the paper from under the paperweight, handing it to Ruyi, saying, "Well..."

Ruyi was slightly surprised, her expression somewhat astonished as she looked at Duan Rong and asked, "Sir, is this written for me?"

Duan Rong smiled lightly, "It’s not exactly written for you; it’s a prescription, and I need you to gather the herbs."

"A prescription?" Ruyi took the paper and looked down. Before she could see what was written, just the elegant, flowing handwriting made her catch her breath slightly.

Seeing Ruyi’s expression, Duan Rong knew she could appreciate quality. Although his skill in calligraphy had long surpassed worldly masters, few could appreciate it.

Duan Rong said, "This prescription is for Chou Luan."

"Chou Luan?"

Duan Rong nodded, "He’s been drinking for years, and it’s already damaged his lungs. At this rate, he’ll be coughing blood regularly within a year. Tomorrow morning, go to the herbal shop, and get seven doses according to this prescription, one dose a day, each dose boiled twice."

Actually, Chou Luan harming himself wasn’t Duan Rong’s concern. But since they met, and Chou Luan had been his guard for a few days, with dedication, he decided to use his knowledge of the medical dao to write a prescription for him to slow down the disease.

Ruyi hesitated, "I can gather and boil the herbs for him. But that man doesn’t even eat meals; how could he obediently take medicine?"

Duan Rong laughed, "No worries. After you boil the medicine tomorrow, pour the decoction into his wine jar. Tell him I’m the one who wants him to drink it, and he will."

Ruyi wasn’t sure if this plan would work, but since Duan Rong instructed her, she would follow his orders.

Seeing Ruyi had no more questions, Duan Rong stretched lazily. After spending a day and night on Wuji Mountain, he was genuinely tired.

He was about to go to sleep but suddenly saw Ruyi laying the paper on the table, picking up the brush he had used, and began writing next to his script.

Curious, Duan Rong leaned over to see what Ruyi was writing.

Ruyi wrote small characters beside his: seven doses, each dose boiled twice.

Ruyi finished writing, holding the brush, and seemed a bit embarrassed as she smiled, "Don’t be upset, sir; my memory isn’t great, and I’m afraid I’ll forget tomorrow."

Duan Rong’s eyes lit up slightly as he looked at Ruyi’s words, praising, "Ruyi! I didn’t expect you’d be a half-professional. Those characters have some charm. It’s just that the details aren’t smooth enough."

Ruyi blushed slightly at Duan Rong’s praise, answering softly, "While in the courtyard, mom invited a teacher to teach us music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. If we didn’t learn well, we wouldn’t be allowed to eat and would get beaten."

Duan Rong’s expression froze, the smile on his lips slowly fading. He hadn’t expected her exquisite writing to be the result of a tragic story.

He looked at Ruyi and said, "There’s no need to dwell on the past! Everyone’s life has darkness. As long as they grit their teeth and traverse through this long dark tunnel, they’ll see light."

Duan Rong knew Ruyi’s life was filled with hardships, but his words were merely past life’s harsh consolation, attempting to comfort her.

After speaking, Duan Rong yawned and said, "Alright, time to rest."

He said this as he turned and walked behind the screen.

Ruyi stood there, staring blankly at Duan Rong’s back, as if pondering his words. It was only after Duan Rong had turned past the screen that she murmured to herself, "Sir, but...Ruyi’s dark tunnel is so long...I fear I won’t make it through..."

After sitting on the bed for a while, Duan Rong saw Ruyi bring in a basin of hot water.