Chapter 2173: Moonlight Like a Lamp, Tears Like a Candle

Chapter Ninety-Nine

Bright Moon Like a Lamp, Falling Candle Tears

In the courtyard, a large stone pestle was set up. Below the pestle was a flat stone slab. On the stone slab were numerous cracks.

Luo-zi clutched a bamboo basket in his hand, carefully picking out the wild grass within it, discarding the yellowed and dead leaves, and leaving only the most tender parts.

When he was finished, he placed the fresh wild grass onto the stone slab and picked up the stone pestle.

He gripped the pestle tightly with both hands, lifting it above his head, and then brought it down with force.

With a "thud," the pestle landed heavily on the wild grass, instantly crushing the tender blades.

As he crushed the grass, a pungent smell wafted out.

This was a kind of wild grass called "Niǎo Bù Chī." Its tender leaves contained toxins.

This detoxification method was known as "Shēn Nóng Cháng Bǎi Cǎo." According to the elders, when Shēn Nóng tasted a hundred herbs, the grass he used to neutralize poisons was this "Niǎo Bù Chī."

It was said that "Niǎo Bù Chī" could expel poisons from the human body.

After crushing the grass into a muddy paste, Luo-zi poured it into a ceramic bowl.

He walked into the room and placed the bowl beside his father's bed.

His father's face was pale and his eyes were closed. His breathing was weak.

He had been like this for several days.

Luo-zi sat by the bed and looked at his father's gaunt face. Tears welled up in his eyes.

"Father, can you hear me? I've made the 'Niǎo Bù Chī' for you. Drink it quickly, and you'll get better."

He picked up a spoon and carefully scooped up some of the green paste, trying to feed it to his father.

However, his father's mouth was tightly closed, and he couldn't swallow anything.

Luo-zi felt a surge of sadness. He put down the bowl and spoon and gently held his father's hand.

"Father, you must get better. The elder said that as long as you eat the 'Niǎo Bù Chī,' you will be fine."

He spoke softly, his voice choked with emotion.

Outside the room, the village elder stood with a worried expression.

"Luo-zi, don't worry. Your father will be fine. The 'Niǎo Bù Chī' is a miraculous herb."

The elder's voice was full of reassurance, but his eyes held a hint of concern.

Luo-zi didn't respond. He just sat there, holding his father's hand, his gaze fixed on his father's face.

He remembered his father's strong back, his kind smile, and the stories he used to tell him.

He couldn't imagine a life without his father.

As the night deepened, the moon rose high in the sky, casting a pale glow on the courtyard.

Inside the room, a single candle flickered, its flame dancing in the gentle breeze.

Luo-zi watched the candle, its tears of wax falling onto the table.

He felt a kinship with the candle, both of them shedding silent tears in the darkness.

He didn't know how long he sat there, but eventually, fatigue overwhelmed him, and he drifted off to sleep, his head resting on his father's bed.