Chapter Thirty-Eight: Bian Que

"Fatty, tell me honestly, is there any hope for Director Baolong’s hand?"
Fatty pondered for a moment before answering, "I don’t want to lie to you. With current scientific technology, regenerating a severed limb is impossible."
"Alas," Wu Ming sighed deeply. Perhaps from now on, Director Baolong would even struggle with the smallest tasks.
"Hahaha! I really had you fooled. With current science, it’s impossible, sure! But I never said the Dao couldn’t do it! Relax, leave it to me—no, actually, leave it to my father." Fatty slapped Wu Ming’s arm. "Serves you right for leaving without a word. You haven’t contacted me in ages. Are we even best friends anymore?"
"Screw you! I’m not interested in men!" Wu Ming aimed a kick at Fatty’s behind. Fatty yelped and darted off, with everyone quickly following.
Rounding a corner, they found Fatty standing with his head bowed before a stern-faced old man. The old man’s hair was snowy white, and he looked to be in his sixties or seventies. He glared at Fatty and scolded, "How old are you now? Act with some composure!"
"Fatty, your grandfather is really youthful—rosy cheeks, white hair, and a childlike face!" Wu Ming noticed the resemblance and guessed this must be Fatty’s grandfather, so he hastened to flatter him.
Fatty nearly choked on his own saliva and muttered quietly, "He’s my father."
Instantly, Wu Ming’s face flushed crimson; he wished the earth would swallow him up.
Yin Yue clamped her hands over her mouth to stifle her laughter, and only when the old man turned away did she dare to breathe.
"Come with me. Nu Ba has already told me the situation," Fatty’s father waved the group onwards.
"Your dad’s quite the cradle-snatcher," Wu Ming whispered to Fatty.
The thin old man leading the way had exceptional hearing; he choked at Wu Ming’s words.
"Not at all. That’s simply the price of becoming a Bian Que," Fatty replied breezily. "That’s why I deliberately keep myself plump—to avoid ending up a shriveled old stick!"
Wu Ming clearly saw Fatty’s father stumble and nearly fall, obviously amused and exasperated by Fatty’s nonsense.

"How did you hook up with that waitress with the wizard hat?" With the worry over the director’s hand lifted, Wu Ming’s curiosity burned bright.
"You mean Mo Mo? Naturally, I unleashed my masculine aura, exuding the energy of a king who dominates the world. Any girl who feels it can’t help but throw herself at me like a moth to a flame! Ahahaha..."
"Drop dead! You damn turtle, what kingly energy!" Wu Ming swung a habitual kick at Fatty, who dodged nimbly.
"Where is your Mo Mo, anyway? Why isn’t she with us?" Wu Ming only now noticed Mo Mo wasn’t with the group.
"Oh, she got tired shopping, so I let her rest. Women need to be cherished!" Fatty replied smugly.
"Alright, just tell me—did you succeed?"
Fatty answered with a sleazy grin.
"We’re here. This is the sect’s forbidden ground. Leave him here, and come back to pick him up in a week!" Fatty’s father wheeled out a wheelchair.
Wu Ming carefully placed the still-unconscious Director Baolong onto it. He wanted to say something, but suddenly his vision faded, his mind grew heavy, and a cacophony of voices called his name, irritating him, until finally he lost all consciousness.
When Wu Ming opened his eyes again, he felt more rested than ever before—this was, without doubt, the sweetest sleep he’d ever had.
Wu Ming sat up and looked around. The walls were of stone, with a fireplace giving the place a Western feel, but the chairs and bed were pure classic Chinese style, straight out of the Ming and Qing dynasties. The room’s atmosphere was oddly surreal.
"You’re awake, have some porridge," the door opened and in walked Xiao Mei.
"You’ve been asleep for two days. You just suddenly fainted that day, and we were all so worried! Here, have a bite." Xiao Mei gently blew on a spoonful of porridge and brought it to Wu Ming’s lips.
Wu Ming opened his mouth and swallowed it, grinning foolishly at Xiao Mei. Her cheeks were flushed, rosy as a ripe apple, inviting a playful bite.
His eyes wandered downward, catching sight of her voluptuous curves, accentuated by a shaft of sunlight. The white glow dazzled him, and beneath the surface he could just make out a hint of blush. A rush of heat surged through him; he swallowed hard, unable to help himself.

"Ah, you’re bleeding!" Just as Xiao Mei set down the bowl to fetch a tissue, Wu Ming accidentally banged his head on the bowl, clutching his head in pain as he slumped toward the bedside. When he opened his eyes again, he was startled to find himself face-to-face with a pair of adorable Hello Kitty panties, still carrying a faint scent of the sea.
Wu Ming felt his inner volcano erupt. In an instant, blood gushed from both nostrils, unstoppable.
"Help! Someone, quick!" Xiao Mei rushed out to get help, even using spatial teleportation in her panic.
"What happened to Big Brother?" A tinkling of bells sounded as Yin Yue hopped in, humming a tune, and was surprised to see Wu Ming with two paper rolls in his nostrils.
"It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. Just that time of the month—a normal physiological reaction!"
"But Mama says only girls have that. So Big Brother is actually a girl?" A sly glint flashed in Yin Yue’s eyes as she covered her mouth, giggling.
"Never mind that—how is Director Baolong’s hand?"
"Big Brother, I actually came to tell you! Baolong’s hand has regrown. Grandpa Bian Que says he’ll need rehabilitation training, though," Yin Yue beamed with delight.
"Amitabha! The donor is saved at last—how wonderful!" Master Luokong bowed to Wu Ming.
"By the way, Luokong, are your injuries alright? And what about your sect’s Vajra?"
"Thank you for your concern, kind donor. I’m almost fully recovered, but as for Vajra, the spirit he’d just awakened was scattered. It’s all my fault!" Master Luokong seemed genuinely attached to his artifact spirit.
"Don’t worry, Master Luokong. I read in the Daoist texts that artifact spirits don’t disappear, they simply exhaust their energy. As long as the artifact isn’t utterly destroyed, the spirit can be restored." Wu Ming reassured him.
"Really?" Master Luokong was visibly moved.