Chapter 60: Master Yao

Li Banfeng said he wanted a promissory note; Qin Xiaopang, Yu Nan, and the attendant all froze in surprise.

What kind of talk is this?

Li Banfeng was utterly serious—he wanted the promissory note, and it had to be complete: “You promised to repay me in your next life. What’s your name in that life? Where do you live? What’s your trade? What Dao sect do you belong to? What’s your cultivation level? You must tell me every detail.”

“I—I can’t possibly know all that…” Xiaopang was bewildered.

“If you can’t specify, how can you ever repay?” Li Banfeng looked intently at Qin Xiaopang—a simple question revealing a simple truth.

All promises about the next life, no matter how moving, are pure bullshit.

Yu Nan glanced at Xiaopang: “Boss Qin, Seventh Master doesn’t want you to kill yourself.”

Xiaopang stared at Li Banfeng, his eyes slightly reddened.

Li Banfeng is a good man.

But where could he possibly get twenty thousand kuai?

Even if he sold every possession he owned, he couldn’t raise ten thousand.

Li Banfeng told the attendant: “Brother, please go find Master Yao again. Tell him I’ve paid the twenty thousand. Have him prepare and come as soon as possible.”

The attendant replied and immediately left the house.

Qin Xiaopang exclaimed in shock: “Brother Li, where did you get so much money?”

Li Banfeng’s face was expressionless: “Is that any of your business?”

Qin Xiaopang’s eyes filled with tears: “Seventh Brother, how can I ever repay your kindness? Whatever you say from now on, I’ll do—without hesitation!”

Li Banfeng pulled up a chair and sat down: “First, tell me why you were treated like this.”

Qin Xiaopang glanced at Yu Nan but said nothing.

Some things, he didn’t want to say in front of outsiders.

Yu Nan understood and left Xiaopang’s room, returning to the main house to arrange her own lodging.

Only Li Banfeng and Qin Xiaopang remained in the room; Xiaopang could no longer hold back and burst into sobs.

“Seventh Brother, I’m a useless waste. I have no talent, yet I’ve got so many delusions.

When you sold the Sheban Elixir to Master Feng, I told you you didn’t know how to do business—I said that stuff should go to the rich and powerful.

I’m such a fool—I should’ve looked in a mirror and asked myself: what the hell am I? Why would any rich or powerful person even care about me?”

As he cried, Xiaopang recounted what had happened.

Since childhood, Qin Xiaopang had believed he was destined for greatness and always tried to curry favor with important people.

In truth, he rarely met anyone important—until he befriended a certain Young Master Jia, named Jia Quansheng, who claimed noble lineage but whose family wealth in Medicine King Gully barely qualified as minor affluence.

Young Master Jia had a gang of shady friends who loved gathering to drink and eat. One day, Xiaopang happened upon them and was forced to treat them—he saw it as an opportunity and agreed.

Young Master Jia was a Wen Xiu, still at a low level, required to read one book daily to maintain his basic cultivation.

At the banquet, Young Master Jia complained about the hardship of Wen Xiu cultivation, and someone suggested he take an elixir.

One Sheban Elixir would spare him from reading for a day. Since Xiaopang wanted to sell the elixir anyway, he offered one to Young Master Jia to try.

After taking the Sheban Elixir, Young Master Jia recognized its effects and was overjoyed—he immediately called Xiaopang “brother.” Xiaopang felt his prospects had widened and fell into the illusion of climbing to higher status.

Two days later, Young Master Jia sent someone to find Xiaopang and demanded two more elixirs.

Such precious elixirs couldn’t be given away again. Xiaopang set the price at eight thousand per pill—far below market value.

He expected gratitude, but mentioning money enraged Young Master Jia.

Young Master Jia hired thugs to teach Xiaopang a lesson, but Xiaopang refused to be bullied—he beat them all off.

Young Master Jia grew even angrier and told his cousin—Geng Zhiwei.

Geng Zhiwei was the eldest son of the Geng Pharmacy. Upon hearing the news, he immediately sent men to Qin Xiaopang, saying he wanted ten Sheban Elixirs at two hundred kuai each.

Two hundred kuai per pill was a deliberate insult.

Xiaopang naturally couldn’t tolerate it and fought back against Geng Zhiwei’s men.

But this time he lost—he was captured, the elixirs stolen, and dragged before Geng Zhiwei and Jia Quansheng, forced to kneel and beg forgiveness.

Xiaopang refused to kneel and punched Geng Zhiwei with all his strength.

Geng Zhiwei, bleeding from nose and mouth, flew into a rage and bought a talisman from the Jiangxiang Gang, cast a spell on Xiaopang, and cursed him to kneel in Weiba Hutong until he starved to death.

After hearing the full story, Li Banfeng slipped out of the compound, went to Suishenju, and returned with three hundred thousand kuai in cash, divided into two bundles.

Master Yao had demanded twenty thousand; Li Banfeng brought ten thousand extra, just in case.

Not long after, the attendant returned with Master Yao, and Yu Nan personally greeted him at the door.

Master Yao arrived quickly—less than an hour from when the attendant left. He must live nearby.

Li Banfeng assumed Master Yao was a famous physician from Baixiang Village.

A famous physician should look the part: Li Banfeng imagined an elder with a medicine chest, thick glasses, and an aura of transcendent grace.

But when he finally met Master Yao, Li Banfeng realized his expectations were slightly off.

No glasses. No medicine chest.

He was indeed an elder—but “transcendent grace”? That depended on your definition.

Before the old man even stepped inside, Li Banfeng caught the sharp stench of alcohol.

Mixed with the smell of smoke and char—similar to the scent of a barbecue stall Li Banfeng knew well.

Had the old man just been eating barbecue?

Master Yao staggered into the room, swaying with each step, holding a wine gourd, gulping down a large mouthful, wiping his nose with his hand, smearing the mucus on the wall, then reaching out to feel Xiaopang’s forehead.

“This kid’s running a fever—did he catch a cold?” Master Yao asked.

Xiaopang was speechless.

Li Banfeng stared at Master Yao.

At his tattered clothes. At his hat, riddled with holes.

At his flushed cheeks—and his nose, redder than his cheeks.

Li Banfeng asked: “Old man, are you sure you’re in the right place?”

Master Yao belched, spraying alcohol fumes across Li Banfeng’s face: “Who says I’m lost? Didn’t you call me?”

Li Banfeng sniffed the fumes: “You’ve drunk at least a liter, right?”

Master Yao shook his head and held up three fingers: “Five and a half liters. Half a liter left in the gourd—I guarantee it.”

Yu Nan, sensing Li Banfeng’s concern, whispered: “Seventh Master, don’t worry—Master Yao has real skill.”

Li Banfeng nodded: “I think Master Yao is fine.”

Master Yao approached Qin Xiaopang and asked: “What’s your name?”

Qin Xiaopang frowned: “Didn’t we meet at noon? I’m Qin.”

“Qin? Did we meet?” Master Yao scratched his scalp, thought a moment, then said, “Fine, let’s say we did.”

He wiped his nose again, found no surface to smear it on, and rubbed it on his pants.

His pants were covered in moss.

Wait—was it moss?

Master Yao first took Xiaopang’s pulse, felt for a while, then asked: “Miss Qin, how many months pregnant are you?”

Qin Xiaopang stared at Master Yao: “I’m a Shi Xiu. I’m a man!”

Master Yao belched again, frowned: “Who says Shi Xiu are all men? I’ve known female Shi Xiu—one could eat half a cow in one sitting!”

Xiaopang shook his head: “That’s not what I mean. I’m not pregnant—I was cursed. Didn’t you see it at noon?”

“See it? Let me check again! If you’re not pregnant, why’s your belly so big?”

“That’s not my belly…”

Xiaopang’s lower body was curled under the blanket; from outside, it did look like a swollen belly.

Master Yao pulled back the blanket, felt Xiaopang’s legs for a while, then asked: “What happened to your hand?”

“That’s my leg!” Even though he’d already endured this once at noon, Xiaopang still couldn’t suppress his anger at Master Yao.

Master Yao carefully felt Xiaopang’s leg for a long time—his casual expression suddenly turned serious.

“I’ve seen you before. At noon.”

Xiaopang brightened: “You remember!”

Master Yao’s voice grew grave: “If you wait one more day, you’ll never be able to have children.”

Qin Xiaopang shouted: “I’m a man!”

Master Yao said: “Do men not need to be able to have children? You’ll become useless soon.”

Xiaopang fell silent—he understood the gravity.

Master Yao continued: “If you don’t heal by tonight, you’ll lose your seed.

By this time tomorrow, you won’t be able to walk.

If you’re still not healed in three days, buy a coffin and prepare your funeral.”

Xiaopang looked at Li Banfeng—he was his last hope.

Li Banfeng nodded to Master Yao: “Please save his life.”

Master Yao took a swig of wine, wiped his mouth, and said: “The price we agreed on—twenty thousand. Not a single copper less.”

Li Banfeng pulled out a sack and spilled out twenty stacks of Huan currency: “Twenty thousand. Not a cent missing.”

“Impressive!” Master Yao praised, grabbed the sack, and headed for the door.

Everyone froze. Li Banfeng shouted: “Wait! You haven’t treated him yet!”

Master Yao set down the sack, walked over to Li Banfeng, and grinned foolishly: “Almost forgot. Lie down.”

Li Banfeng lay down.

Master Yao asked Li Banfeng: “Which leg won’t move?”

“Which leg again?” Li Banfeng thought carefully.

Qin Fatty snapped: “It’s my leg!”

Master Yao walked up to Yu Nan and smiled warmly: “Miss, give me a cigarette!”

Yu Nan quickly pulled out a cigarette and handed it to the old man, then struck a match to light it.

Glug glug, Master Yao drained the entire gourd of wine, then approached Fatty, took a drag from the cigarette, and—puff!—spat out a burst of flame!

Qin Fatty screamed in shock, and his whole body burst into flames.

Li Banfeng was startled: “Master, can you really cure him like this?”

Master Yao stared at Fatty, who was engulfed in flames, his face utterly confused: “What’s wrong with him? Is he sick? I just burped—why is he on fire?”

PS: Dear readers, it’s such a lovely Saturday—leave a comment for Salad.

(End of chapter)