Old Monk's Torn Record I

In the first year of Qiande, war broke out in Jinghu. Refugees fled along the river, seeking to enter Qiantang. Yet the plague was already among them. Fever. Coughing blood. Red rashes. The city gates remained shut. The villages turned them away. With nowhere left to run, they sought shelter in our temple. I could not bear to drive them out. I heard the Spring's Return Hall in the city treats all suffering, regardless of wealth or status. I have sent my eldest disciple into the city with a letter to plead for their help. If only a healer would come to the temple, to save these wretched souls...