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'He' rode a horse from Guangzhou to Lingui, which took over ten days. Upon arriving in Lingui, 'he' immediately inquired with the local government and finally confirmed that the group of convicts exiled from Chang'an had ended up here. 'He' decided to stay and settle down.

Although Guilin was remote, there were medical clinics and pharmacies in Lingui, but their number and scale were far inferior to those in Chang'an. 'He' claimed to be a physician from Chang'an and tried to apply for positions in several private clinics. After being hired, 'he' began to practice medicine locally. As expected, 'his' miraculous medical skills made 'him' known to local officials within three months.

After becoming familiar with the area, 'he' requested to visit 'her' as a distant relative through the county magistrate's office, but was refused, with the reason being: it did not comply with the regulations. The owner of 'his' clinic told 'him' that in this era, one had to offer some benefits to get things done.

The second time, 'he' learned 'his' lesson. Upon arriving at the county magistrate's office and meeting the county magistrate, 'he' secretly slipped some silver to the county magistrate, who told 'him' to submit a report and come back the next day. The next day, 'he' secretly slipped some silver to the county magistrate again and was finally allowed to visit 'her', but the county magistrate told 'him' to only stay for half an hour and not too long.

The county magistrate dispatched a constable to lead 'him' to the residential area for exiled convicts. They rode horses, one in front and one behind, galloping to a remote area in the west of Lingui. The area was surrounded by dense forests, with only one small path for entry and exit. Their horses followed the path into the area. The houses were crudely built with mud, wood, and thatch, scattered around, with about 20 households. The constable led 'him' to a thatched hut and gestured for 'him' to enter.

The thatched hut was small, with an interior of about 5 or 6 square meters, containing two straw mats, a low table, and extremely rudimentary kitchenware, barely enough for two people. As 'he' entered, a pungent odor hit 'his' nose. 'He' saw Madam W sitting by the low table, in a daze, wearing coarse cloth, visibly thinner, with dull eyes. 'He' greeted Madam W softly, and she looked surprised upon seeing 'him', then lowered her head, her eyes glistening with tears.

'She' was wrapped in coarse cloth, lying on a straw mat, so emaciated that 'she' was almost dried up, with lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling, barely breathing. If not for Madam W's willingness to take care of 'her', 'she' would have already passed away. Seeing 'her' in such a state, 'he' couldn't help but feel deep sorrow, tears streaming down 'his' face. 'He' sat beside 'her', held 'her' nearly dried-up hand, and gently called out to 'her', 'her' eyes slowly turned to 'him'.

"Ah... Sir... you... have come..." 'She' spoke in a faint, lifeless voice.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." 'He' wept, tightly holding 'her' hand, repeating the same words over and over.

'He' checked 'her' pulse and found that all six pulses were empty, clearly sustained only by willpower. 'Her' physical life energy was almost exhausted, and even with 'his' extraordinary medical skills and supernormal powers, it was difficult to reverse the situation. 'He' was overwhelmed with emotions, and tears streamed down 'his' cheeks, falling onto the back of 'her' hand.

"Sir... why... are you crying..." 'She' actually tried to raise 'her' hand to comfort 'him', but could only lift it slightly before letting it fall again.

"It's... it's nothing! I'm just happy to see you..." 'He' held back 'his' grief.
"Is that so... I'm... happy too..." 'She' whispered weakly, barely audible.

"Are you done yet? It's about time!" The guard outside urged after half an hour had passed.

"I'll come back tomorrow!"
'She' nodded weakly.

From then on, 'he' visited 'her' almost every day, bringing some food and drink for them, but 'her' condition did not improve.

One morning, 'he' wanted to visit 'her', but the county magistrate told 'him' that 'she' had passed away the afternoon before and had instructed the constables to bury 'her' in the county's unclaimed public cemetery, which was essentially a potter's field.

The constables, to save trouble, had hastily thrown 'her' body in a corner of the mass grave without burying 'her'. 'He' gave the constables some benefits, listened to their description, and quickly rode 'his' horse over. After much difficulty, 'he' arrived at the mass grave in the wilderness.

This area was overgrown with wild grass, and a few broken tombstones leaned crookedly in the wind. 'He' searched around for a long time and finally found 'her' body. 'Her' left leg was missing a small section, obviously gnawed by wild animals. 'He' painfully cradled 'her' body and sobbed.

'He' noticed that 'her' right hand was still tightly clutching a dirty object. 'He' exerted some effort to pry open 'her' clenched fingers, and a damaged, dirty wooden plaque engraved with a swastika symbol fell from 'her' hand. It was the priority treatment plaque 'he' had given 'her' initially. Upon seeing the wooden plaque, 'he' could no longer control 'his' emotions, holding 'her' body and crying uncontrollably.

Finally, 'he' removed a deep blue-veined sarira from 'his' left wrist bracelet and placed it tightly in 'her' hand, hoping that 'his' master's compassion and wisdom would bring 'her' enlightenment in the next life. 'He' dug a simple grave with dead tree branches nearby and buried 'her' body and the wooden plaque together.

End of Chapter 3.