This girl is a streetwalker in the demon world

Let’s go back to an earlier time.

Murong Ziqiu has been a little annoyed lately.

As everyone knows, Murong Ziqiu is the son of a medical family. No matter whether they are immortals, independent cultivators, or evil cultivators, except for those ridiculously expensive elixirs, all the diseases of the cultivators, big or small, can be cured in the Murong family. There is a saying that goes, it is better to offend a butcher than to offend a doctor. In this way, the Murong family has been passed down for thousands of years. By the time of Murong Ziqiu's generation, he has never worried about food, clothing and other expenses since he was a child.

But during this period of time, he was constantly worried as he watched his storage bag become increasingly deflated.

On this day, he was sitting in the simple medical clinic in the camp as usual. Thinking of his own experience, Murong Ziqiu couldn't help but sigh. This sigh attracted the attention of Monk Ou Shen who was busy next door.

"Zi Qiu, what's wrong with you?" Ou Shen asked as he poured several herbs into a large bowl one by one and pounded it hard. The green color in the bowl gradually deepened and soon turned into a darker dark green.

Murong Ziqiu propped up his head, holding an unstained brush between his fingers. He replied in boredom, "We are poor - poor and bored. We are staying here. What is there to treat? You might as well let me go out and kill some evil cultivators."

Ou Shen silently felt the stickiness of the herbs. When he saw that the pounding was almost done, he took the large bowl into the inner room and put it away. Then he walked out of the room and came to Murong Ziqiu's desk. He looked down at his eyelashes as dense as black crows and smiled at him: "Senior Xinglin once said, 'I wish there was no suffering in the world, and I would rather let the medicine on the shelf gather dust.' I think this principle is still applicable today."

Murong Ziqiu shook his head helplessly and said, "That's wrong. There are so many patients in the world. If these doctors who are busy with their medicines can step out of their own small fields, how can they have any leisure time?"

"Haha, do you think everyone is like the traveling doctor of your Murong family?" Ou Shen laughed. She rested her hands on the table and moved closer to Murong Ziqiu. "To be honest, I have always admired traveling doctor Murong. With your dedication, there are so many fewer people suffering from illness in the world."

Murong Ziqiu stepped back silently, leaned back against the chair, folded his arms and said, "Yes, you said it too, the key to traveling doctors is the word 'traveling'. I don't want to stay in one place all the time!"

"So, Ziqiu, you want to go out too?"

"Of course, and there is still no news from my junior brothers and sisters, I have to go find them!" Murong Ziqiu thought of Wu Baiquan, Shao Shuang'er and An Ling, and felt even more anxious, "It's so dangerous outside now, we can't leave them alone outside!"

"Daxuan is so big, how are you going to find him? Isn't it risking your own life?"

"I can carry my medicine box and treat people while asking for their news. I am a swordsman of the Canglan Sword Sect and a doctor of the Murong family. Perhaps, being a traveling doctor would be a good choice."

Ou Shen looked at the man who had made up his mind, sighed, and carefully depicted his outline with his eyes. After a moment, he said to Murong Ziqiu as if nothing had happened: "Okay! No matter what decision you make, I will support you!"

"Okay, I'll go and say goodbye to Senior Brother Li right now," Murong Ziqiu stood up from his chair and said excitedly, "It's better to do this as soon as possible! Oh, by the way, Ou Shen! Thank you!"

He suddenly looked at Ou Shen seriously. His peach blossom eyes were sparkling as if filled with a pool of spring water, which made Ou Shen's heart flutter.

"You have been the one planting and refining herbs all this time, and I haven't been able to help you at all! You are such a responsible doctor!" Murong Ziqiu said, "I'll leave everyone in the camp in your care."

Talking about those medicines, Ou Shen's expression changed a little, but she still kept it. Hearing Murong Ziqiu's words, she smiled shyly and replied: "Don't worry, I will take good care of everyone."

Murong Ziqiu had no desire to stay for her for a moment. After turning around to pack his things, he was about to stride out of the clinic, but Ou Shen called him again.

"Zi Qiu, when will you come back?"

"Well..." Who is Murong Ziqiu? He is a young man from an aristocratic family. He has seen many girls like Ou Shen who have a crush on him since he was a child. When asked directly about his return, he just shook his head and said in a relaxed tone to his friends: "It's hard to say. If you are unlucky, you will never be able to come back in your lifetime."

"Don't say that..."

"I am just a passer-by in your life, so you don't need to worry about me." Murong Ziqiu smiled casually, clasped his fists towards Ou Shen and said goodbye: "See you later!"

Ou Shen looked at Murong Ziqiu's receding back and sighed deeply. A cultivator of Ziqiu's level would inevitably die in the face of the Futian Army.

Now, the lives and future of the entire camp and the entire young generation of the immortal sect are in her hands alone.

Ou Shen's hand that was tightly holding the pill loosened and tightened again. After Murong Ziqiu left, she completely forgot about this person's existence and locked herself in the room, thinking about the pros and cons.

The next day, she brought the "cultivation pill" and walked into Li Feiling's residence.

……

Murong Ziqiu left the Shiwanda Mountains with his medicine box and the iconic gourd that represented the Murong family.

He sighed and put his sword into the storage bag. He picked up the pack of poisoned flying needles and used the Murong family's inherited mental method to completely transform himself into a young traveling doctor.

"If I can choose, I would rather play with flying swords than flying needles." Murong Ziqiu shook his head at the needle bag he had touched since he was a child, "But it should be similar, just one is thinner and the other is thicker."

The traveling doctor Murong Ziqiu followed his ancestors' teachings and measured the earth with his legs.

Because the Murong family requires that every traveling doctor must treat all patients along the way, and flying quickly in the sky will not allow one to experience the sufferings of the world.

This time he chose to go eastward along the Daxuan border area around the Shiwandashan Mountains. His tentative destination was the East China Sea. He had always heard from Junior Sister An Ling that there were many sea monsters causing trouble in the East China Sea. He could eliminate the evil guards and heal the villagers.

Saving the world and bringing peace to the people, isn't that the rule that the Murong family has always followed?

But along the way, he saw too much pain and blood, and he also deeply realized his own powerlessness.

He once carried a dying herbalist back home on his back on a snowy mountain, but he never expected that even with his success in cultivation, he would still find it difficult to overcome the barrier of life and death.

He once set up a stall in the market and provided free medical treatment to poor people. However, his business was snatched away by his peers, who envied him and he was falsely accused. The golden signboard of Murong the Itinerant Doctor turned into a mediocre doctor despised by everyone.

He also once abandoned the needle and took up the sword, defeated thousands of troops with one sword, stood in front of the people, and fought to protect them, but was stabbed in the unprotected back by General Daxuan, who had long since defected to the Futian Army, and the gun went out through the chest.

Murong Ziqiu didn't know what he was doing. In a world gradually drowned by tears and blood, he slowly began to forget what his original intention was.

He had somewhat forgotten where he was going, and he was just like a fallen leaf, moving with the wind and clouds.

Until that day, he heard the name "An Ling" again from a passerby.

Murong Ziqiu remembered.