After hearing his explanation, Zhao Shiquan, Shen Lijun, and Zhao Ling all believed him. The Elder Daoist from the village's dilapidated temple had often treated the villagers' illnesses when he was alive, qualifying him as a barefoot doctor. He had also been very fond of Zhao Yuan, so it wasn't impossible that he had passed on a few prescriptions to him.
Zhao Shiquan sighed emotionally. "I never thought that Elder Daoist had such skills! Yuan, when you get back, you must go to his grave and burn some incense for him. Thank him for his immense kindness!"
Zhao Yuan replied, "I was thinking the same thing."
'Since I'm using the Elder Daoist as a cover story, I should treat his memory with respect.' Besides, the Elder Daoist had treated him for illnesses many times when he was a child. It was only right to burn some incense and paper money for him.
Once they understood where the money came from, Zhao Shiquan and Shen Lijun began to swell with pride again.
