Chapter 118: What Official? What Situation?

Di Ying smiled warmly, withdrawing his hand as he said, “Elder, you must not take your illness lightly. You mustn’t overexert yourself anymore. Did you come out by yourself? Then just lie down here for a while; I’ll write you a prescription.”

Upon hearing the mention of medicine, the old man’s face showed hesitation, and he seemed about to shake his head.

Di Ying quickly added, “Don’t worry about it—I'll cover the cost of the medicine. You mustn’t rush or get angry, or you might end up paralyzed. You have to listen carefully, understood?”

The old man blinked, looking somewhat lost, but in the end, he nodded obediently.

Seeing this, Di Ying instructed Peng Liang to watch over the old man, chat with him a bit, and try to find out where he lived.

Meanwhile, Di Ying went to the tailor’s shop that had just been “robbed” of cloth. While compensating the owner, he borrowed paper and brush to write a prescription.

One illness, one prescription. The prescription had to be signed.

With a flourish, Di Ying signed his name: Di Huaijie. Blowing on the ink, he praised the cloth shop owner, “Not bad at all, you didn’t chase after the money?”

The owner replied, “...You’re an official, and those were your guards. Even if you lent me some cloth, I wouldn’t dare demand payment.”

Di Ying said, “…Are officials in Ningzhou City often taking things without paying?”

“No, no, no, that’s not true,” the owner quickly shook his head, denying it repeatedly. “This is just a small shop, dealing with everyday folk’s small trades.”

Di Ying glanced at the owner and surveyed the shop before smiling and asking, “It looks like your business isn’t doing well, huh? Heavy taxes?”

“No, no, not heavy,” the owner said again, shaking his head, his expression almost tearful. “Sir, you still have patients outside, you aren’t—”

“It’s fine. Let the old man rest a bit longer,” Di Ying waved dismissively, unfazed by the owner’s fearful and conflicted look.

He continued, “I heard the taxes in Ningzhou are quite light. The fabric you sell here is exactly what the common people need. By rights, your business should be good. I just saw when the old man fell, several people gathered nearby—four or five of them came out from your shop. So, what’s the story?”

The owner suddenly bolted, disappearing into the back yard, leaving the silver coins on the counter behind.

Di Ying rubbed his nose, jumped up, leaned over the counter, put the silver into the drawer, then turned and headed to a nearby pharmacy.

Earlier, seven or eight people had just left there after watching the commotion.

The pharmacy was fairly large and busy, but neither the owner nor the assistants wore any smiles.

Handing over the prescription to have the medicine prepared, Di Ying’s suspicions grew.

The taxes in Ningzhou really weren’t heavy.

Aside from the regular official taxes, there were no local extra levies like slaughter taxes, upkeep taxes, head taxes, and so forth.

There was only an entrance tax—one copper coin per person entering the city.

Di Ying had abolished it as soon as he took office.

Yet the people didn’t seem any freer or happier for it.

Perhaps one copper coin wasn’t much to worry about?

Di Ying didn’t see it that way.

Now, looking at these merchants all wearing expressions of deep grievance, he found it odd.

Even if business was bad and they lost money, they could close shop and try again elsewhere. Why keep running the shop while sobbing?

Before Di Ying could figure it out, the assistants had accurately prepared several packages of medicine and handed them over.

After paying, Di Ying took the medicine and stepped outside.

The crowd had already gathered in clusters, murmuring.

“What kind of official is this? He doesn’t even look like one. Are you sure you saw right?”

“You’re the one who’s mistaken. You don’t even recognize official robes? Watch out or your kid might get beaten one day.”

“This official actually knows how to treat illness? And he even took off his robe to lay it down for an old farmer? Am I seeing things?”

“Yeah... this is strange. Hey, look—this official even pays cash when buying things. That’s rare.”

“More than that, he only brought one servant, and he personally went to get medicine for the patient... Is the sun rising in the west today?”

“Hey, did you hear? Ningzhou’s inspector has a new official. His name’s Di... something. Could this be him?”

“Shut up! Do you think you can speak freely about high officials? Better watch your head. Let’s go quickly—don’t stir up trouble.”

The crowd fell silent and dispersed, moving farther away.

They didn’t leave because they were curious—was this really an official? A high official?

Di Ying heard this and smiled as he waved to them all, “My name is Di Ying, the new inspector. If you need anything, come find me anytime.”

The crowd was speechless.

At once, they scattered completely, each slipping away faster than rabbits.

Di Ying rubbed his nose, returned to the old man, took his pulse again, and then had Peng Liang gently help him up.

He placed the medicine package into the leather pouches on either side of the horse’s rump, lifted the old man onto his back, asked Peng Liang for the address he had inquired about, then told him to ride off to the Luan residence.

Peng Liang, focused on the task at hand, didn’t argue but reported the address and took his leave.

The black horse, Dark Cloud, obediently followed behind Di Ying.

Carrying the old man, Di Ying walked slowly.

The old man’s condition was a stroke—blood clots blocking the vessels in his brain.

But thanks to Di Ying’s timely treatment, the damage wasn’t severe.

The old man couldn’t walk on his own yet and shouldn’t endure jolts, so Di Ying carried him carefully.

To keep the old man alert, Di Ying chatted with him.

“Sir, what does your family do? You came out alone—why didn’t anyone accompany you?”

The old man’s tongue was sluggish, his answers mumbled and unclear.

“Old and useless now. I came out to sell some vegetables but can’t go back anymore. Whatever, I’ll die wherever I am—no one cares for me.”

“My two daughters married off long ago, unlikely to return. My wife passed away, leaving me a useless old man. Young man, the road’s far—put me down, I can walk myself.”

Di Ying’s nose tingled with emotion.

He adjusted the old man on his back and kept moving forward.

The old man lived in Liujia Village, about seven or eight miles from the city.

Di Ying was unhurried, asking as they went, “Sir, how many acres do you farm? How much grain do you harvest each year? Is it enough to eat?”

The old man’s tone was a mix of pride and sorrow. “Fifteen acres—too much for me to handle alone. The village folks help out. How much can an old man eat? I share it with everyone. I used to have sons, two of them, but like the village kids, they’re all gone.”

“Those damn rascals did all sorts of evil things. Why does no one bring them to justice?”