The wind in Twilight Town carried the bitter fragrance of herbs, drifting lazily along the stone-paved streets. Song Shiyan crouched beneath the old locust tree at the town entrance. Carefully avoiding the edges of the wound, he applied crushed wound-healing herbs to the leg of Hank, a poor man. Hank was a cart driver. Yesterday, he fell onto a gravel road while dodging an out-of-control carriage, slicing his lower leg open to the bone. Unable to afford a proper physician, he had come to Song Shiyan, who often treated people’s wounds for free.
