Qin Liuxi had just taken the pulse of a child, who was all skin and bones but had a distended abdomen, when she turned to the woman who had brought him in for a diagnosis. Furrowing her eyebrows, she asked, "Have you been consuming Guanyin Soil?"
Hearing this, the crowd gasped in shock. Were there still refugees in the capital eating Guanyin Soil?
There had been no major natural disasters in recent years. No matter how tough and hard life had been, people hadn't reached the point of eating Guanyin Soil, had they? How could this mother and son have consumed Guanyin Soil?
The woman bowed her head and replied in a stammer, "We were forced to do it."
Seeing her full of sorrow, with a sallow complexion and thin figure, her life force waning, and wearing tattered, ill-fitting clothes, Qin Liuxi said, "It has been a while since you consumed it. Just taking medicine won't suffice; you'll need to combine it with acupuncture and herbal potions, which will cost silver."
