Chapter 875 - Qingyun Temple

Qingyun Temple was a modest Daoist temple outside Hangzhou's Yongjin Gate. For anyone accustomed to the grand scale of temples in the old timeline, Qingyun Temple was almost "utterly ordinary"—an unremarkable façade, grounds that were not extensive, standing alone on the shore of West Lake outside the Yongjin Gate.

Beyond the gate lay the shore of West Lake itself. Though the scenery here was pleasant, this wasn't a busy commercial district. There were very few residences. Zhang Yingchen wasn't entirely satisfied with Qingyun Temple's location—it was genuinely quite remote. But its virtue was quietude, which suited the image of "tranquil cultivation."

Small though it was, Qingyun Temple had all the proper features. The entire complex was arranged along a central axis, extending front to back and spreading left and right. The first courtyard housed the Hall of the Three Pure Ones, with the Wenchang Hall and Lingguan Hall flanking it on either side.

Behind the Hall of the Three Pure Ones lay the second courtyard, where a stage was set up for ceremonies and theatrical performances. On both sides of this courtyard were smaller courtyards, elegantly arranged specifically for wealthy pilgrims to rest and stay overnight. Behind it lay the third courtyard—the "quiet chambers" where the Daoist priests lived. The fourth courtyard was the rear garden, with a door opening onto a vegetable plot. Lay Daoists grew vegetables and raised chickens there, supplying food for the temple's residents and selling surplus for extra income.

Zhang Yingchen was quite satisfied with Qingyun Temple's living environment. Though the temple was small, there were few priests. Besides the young apprentices, everyone had their own private chamber. The surroundings were also remarkably tranquil: lush trees within the temple grounds, abundant flowers and plants, and West Lake lying just beyond the walls. In the old timeline, this piece of land couldn't have been purchased for even tens of millions.

Qingyun Temple wasn't particularly prosperous in terms of incense offerings, nor did it possess much property. But successive abbots had developed their own business acumen. Taking advantage of the temple's excellent location, they had cultivated relationships with many wealthy gentry households in the city. At the three major festivals and various Daoist holidays, they received generous gifts from the great households. In summer, wealthy family ladies and young masters who found the city stifling often came to the temple for religious ceremonies and theatrical performances, enjoying themselves and relaxing. The temple earned considerable income this way. This was how it sustained itself.

Unlike the old timeline, temples and monasteries in this era—except for the very few that enjoyed court backing, whose abbots held official monastic or priestly positions and received government stipends and financial support—mostly had to sustain themselves through business activities. For temples like Qingyun, which lacked substantial landholdings and couldn't generate long-term income, survival pressure was immense.

Thus temples rarely added another mouth to feed. Daoists who wanted to take refuge and cultivate at a temple, if they didn't bring property with them, would have to wander outside for many years—"wandering" being essentially begging—before possibly gaining formal admission. Had Zhang Yingchen not saved Abbot Ma's life with his miraculous medical skill and demonstrated superior healing abilities, he couldn't have stayed "temporarily" at this temple indefinitely.

Zhang Yingchen found this phenomenon fascinating. He observed that the abbot and priests rarely studied Daoist scriptures. Besides "custom orders" from clients, they didn't conduct many religious activities. Their main daily occupation was "generating income": visiting major and minor patrons to cultivate relationships; operating a tea stall outside the temple gate; receiving pilgrims who came for ceremonies—the temple employed a lay Daoist cook of considerable skill, whose dishes and pastries were excellent.

At this moment, Zhang Yingchen was writing his work report while enjoying the excellent pastries made by that lay Daoist cook: ham puff pastry. Beside him sat a pot of fine pre-rain tea. His privileged treatment was of course related to his excellent medical skills. Since saving the abbot and gaining permission to stay as a guest, he had also treated other Daoists in the temple, winning considerable goodwill. A few days ago, a gentry family connected to Qingyun Temple had an elderly matriarch gravely ill and on the verge of death. They had summoned all the famous physicians in Hangzhou, but all were helpless. Abbot Ma had recommended Zhang Yingchen.

Using a combination of traditional observation, listening, questioning, and pulse-taking along with modern medical diagnostic methods, Zhang Yingchen quickly identified the cause of illness. He administered two types of prepared Chinese medicines that he carried with him and wrote a few prescriptions, achieving what seemed like a miraculous cure. Within days, word spread that Qingyun Temple harbored a master of medicine. Several more patients with difficult cases arrived, and Zhang Yingchen cured them all appropriately. His reputation soared immediately.

Abbot Ma, with his business-minded thinking, immediately recognized how beneficial Zhang Yingchen's medical skills were for Qingyun Temple. So he became even more solicitous—not only providing premium living conditions but trying to meet all his requests.

Zhang Yingchen took the opportunity to request permission to practice medicine at the temple—this would greatly help expand his reputation. Since ancient times, all new religions had used "healing" as a means of spreading their message. Whether the "healing" actually worked wasn't always the point; at minimum, this was what most easily moved ordinary people.

Abbot Ma readily agreed—after all, this enhanced Qingyun Temple's prestige. Since Zhang Yingchen began practicing at the temple, incense offerings had become much more prosperous. Zhang Yingchen practiced "giving according to one's heart" for consultation fees and medicine costs—he set out a single money box, let people contribute freely, and never asked for payment. His reputation thus soared.

The fees deposited in the money box he didn't keep either, giving everything to the temple. Before long, everyone in the temple admired his medical skills and moral character. Word spread, and everyone knew that a Daoist master of both superior healing ability and moral character had come to Qingyun Temple.

"I've finally established myself here," Zhang Yingchen thought as he wrote his report. "Next step is to expand my reputation and develop followers—first I need to bring Qingyun Temple under our influence."

He was pondering how to seize leadership of Qingyun Temple when a bright-eyed young Daoist novice named Mingqing appeared at the door of his quiet chamber.

"Daoist Zhang, are you still keeping your medical case records under the stage in the second courtyard?" he asked.

"Same as usual." Zhang Yingchen put his quill pen into the stationery box, blew on the report, folded it, and placed it in a small lockbox. The report was written in English—in this timeline, this counted as the simplest handwritten cipher. In all of Hangzhou, probably not a single person could understand it. Church missionaries were all language prodigies, but Zhang Yingchen didn't think they would know English—let alone modern English.

He stood up, took a sip of tea, cleared his throat, and picked up the medical kit that never left his sight. No matter how great his fame, Zhang Yingchen still wore the ordinary Daoist attire of blue robe and cloth belt. But his tall figure—built on the old-timeline foundation of meat, eggs, and milk—was quite visually striking even in the relatively prosperous Two Zhejiang region of this era. Moreover, having formally organized religious activities for over a year, he had gained some understanding of how to project the air of an immortal sage. "The Miracle Doctor of Qingyun Temple, Rivaling Pure Yang" had gradually spread through the marketplace. The most obvious evidence was that among recent patients, several matchmaker-type women had specifically asked whether he was a lay Daoist who observed thunder fasts, and whether he might consider marrying into a local family. Apparently Zhang Yingchen's value wasn't appreciated only by Abbot Ma.

In the late Ming, Buddhist and Daoist temples in the Two Zhejiang region had become highly secularized. Father-to-son hereditary temples were quite common in Hangzhou alone, and every year there were romantic scandals of young women eloping with handsome Daoist priests or monks performing ceremonies. Apart from a few highly renowned so-called eminent monks like Lianchi of Yunqi Temple and Yuanwu of Tiantong Temple, priests openly marrying and having children was a widespread phenomenon. Compared to those hereditary temples with their very Japanese-style clerical family enterprises, the Lotus Hermitage in Guangzhou with its Yu Xuanji-esque traditions could only be considered a minor player in specialized services.

Zhang Yingchen carried his medical kit to the second courtyard. Beside the stage stood several century-old camphor trees casting thick shade that blocked the sun, where he had established his medical practice. In his kit were dozens of prepared Chinese medicines manufactured according to modern formulas and processes by Runshitang. There were also several Western medicines produced in Lingao—most importantly sulfonamides and oxytetracycline. Without these two antibiotics, his reputation wouldn't be so formidable—traditional Chinese medicine was relatively weak when it came to fighting infection. Several cases where local famous physicians had been helpless had been saved by antibiotics.

Medicines were being consumed very quickly—though the inspection team had brought him a large case as replenishment. Recently Zhang Yingchen had greatly reduced his use of modern medicines from Lingao. Whenever he could find local substitutes, he used them. So recently he was writing more prescriptions and dispensing less prepared medication. Some patients actually didn't need prepared Chinese medicines anyway—they could be treated just following his prescriptions. But because they superstitiously believed this "Daoist Zhang" possessed "divine medicine," they wouldn't leave without receiving a few pills. So Zhang Yingchen had made many "pills" of glutinous rice flour mixed with honey as placebos to distribute to patients—supposedly with excellent efficacy.

However, dispensing medicine remained essential. Zhang Yingchen found many common people couldn't afford to purchase medicine. If he wrote a prescription, they had no money to fill it. Such people wouldn't even take his prescriptions—they only asked for a few "divine pills."

Glutinous rice flour honey pill placebos had no therapeutic effect. If he didn't dispense real medicine, he would have difficulty generating sufficient influence among the lower classes.

Runshitang was also part of the land and sea routes, but establishing pharmacies proved harder than other shops. So far, the Great Ming Watsons chain hadn't even completed its layout across Hainan Island. On the mainland, only one store had opened in Guangzhou.

The reasons for slow expansion were numerous—there was resistance from localities, where people of all classes remained very wary of outside pharmacies. Some places outright prohibited outsiders from opening drug shops. Secondly, there was Runshitang's production capacity: though the pharmaceutical factory in Lingao's private industrial park had begun preliminary production, the medicines produced were largely consumed within Qiongzhou. Insufficient production meant they couldn't satisfy the basic stocking requirements of new stores.