"Master! What's wrong with you?"
"Don't scare us!"
"Master! Master!"
The disciples guarding the door panicked, but as medical practitioners, they knew all too well the terror of the plague. Especially since Master Qin had strictly forbidden anyone from approaching.
Their anxious care made no difference to the old man's wailing.
Ever since Master Qin returned from a consultation, he had wrapped himself up tightly, refusing anyone's approach and confining himself within the courtyard.
The medical hall was already full of anxiety.
Over the years, what hadn't the medical hall endured through storms and tribulations?
Nobody had ever seen Master Qin lose his composure like this.
The nonagenarian wept bitterly, his cries heart-wrenching.
All who saw him were deeply moved.
"Father!" Finally, it was Master Qin's son, the current head of the medical hall, Qin Nianmin, who dropped to his knees, crying and asking, "Your unfilial son is at a loss. Why are you weeping, Father?"
