Chapter 4: Secrets of the Orchard
**"Mother, might we enjoy some privacy? Sister Mengna and I have matters to discuss,"** Xu Ling implored, his tone laced with restrained exasperation as he glanced meaningfully at Wang Huifen.
**"Of course! I'll prepare luncheon while you converse,"** the matriarch chirped, her grin widening like a Cheshire cat as her calculating gaze swept over Yu Mengna's poised figure.
**"Young Ling",** Yu Mengna began, leaning forward with predatory grace, **"reveal your alchemy. Those apples—ambrosia incarnate."
**"A novel cultivation method of my design,"** Xu Ling replied, radiating an easy confidence that belied his rural origins. **"Applicable to melons, grapes, pears... any orchard yield. Enhances saccharinity, succulence, and chromatic vitality."
**"You devised this... pan-horticultural technique?"** Her obsidian eyes dilated with genuine astonishment. **"Universal application?"
Her merchant's mind ignited—visions of Tiantianxian Fruits eclipsing mundane competitors danced like fireflies. Gourmet produce commands premium prices, with bourgeois clientele clamouring for these edible jewels. Beyond mere profit lay dominion—a stranglehold on luxury markets that would render rivals obsolete.
**"Young Ling,"** she purred, lowering her voice to conspiratorial velvet, **"Might we... confer discreetly?"
**"Discretion?"** His brow furrowed in artless confusion.
**"Go, go!"** Wang Huifen interjected, flushing crimson yet shooing them eagerly. **"Youths require space for... negotiations."
**"My gratitude, Auntie,"** Yu Mengna demurred, her courtier's smile masking inner turbulence.
**"Ah, such grace!"** The matriarch blurted, then clapped her hands over her mouth. **"Fairer than spring peonies! More comely than Widow Zhang from—"**
**"Mother!"** Xu Ling's mortification could have powered a steam engine.
**"No offence intended!"** Wang Huifen backpedalled, waving plump hands like signal flags.
**"Charmingly rustic,"** Yu Mengna countered through gritted teeth, her urbane composure cracking like eggshell porcelain.
Within the dim inner chamber, Xu Ling proffered a hand-hewn stool and poured tea into a coarse porcelain bowl—its rustic imperfections scrubbed to monastic cleanliness.
**"Enlighten me,"** Yu Mengna commanded, accepting the vessel with regal poise. **"Every particular of this agricultural revolution."
Her tone sliced through pretence like Damascus steel. Xu Ling hesitated—how to articulate spiritual cultivation's esoteric truths without sounding deranged? **"Complex methodologies... Perhaps instruct your agronomists?"
**"Entrust my cadre?"** Her vermilion lips curved like scimitars. **"Generosity merits reciprocity. State your terms."
**"Equitable pricing for village harvests. Exclusive distribution rights for premium cultivars."
**"A mercantile prodigy,"** she murmured, approval glinting like buried treasure. Their hands clasped—her alabaster fingers cool against his sun-bronzed palm.
**"Covenant sealed,"** he affirmed.
Beyond the paper-thin wall, Wang Huifen pressed her ear to the partition, grinning like a jack-o'-lantern. **"At last! A daughter-in-law who could bankrupt a king's treasury!"**
Sealing the Business Alliance
"Thank you," Yu Mengna murmured, lifting the coarse porcelain vessel without a trace of condescension. After savouring its contents, her manicured fingers traced the rim curiously. "This teacup possesses an... unconventional charm."
Xu Ling's calloused hands fidgeted beneath the table. "We rustic folk use rice bowls for everything – tea ceremonies included." His collar grew uncomfortably warm as her crystalline laughter filled the room, its musical cadence momentarily eclipsing the summer cicadas' drone.
She embodied the very essence of urban sophistication – where Liu Shuxiang resembled a dewy bud after a spring shower, Yu bloomed like a sun-drenched peony in full glory, her beauty radiating calculated perfection. The sudden flush colouring her alabaster cheeks betrayed shared memories of tangled sheets and whispered promises from their prior encounter.
"To business," Yu declared, her demeanour shifting like mercury solidifying. The calculated arch of her eyebrow could've frozen monsoon rains. "Tiantianxian's clientele would pay double for these divine fruits. Triple, with proper branding."
Xu Ling's pulse quickened. This wasn't mere negotiation – she was handing him the keys to dismantle Liu Dog's decades-old monopoly. Her scarlet-tipped finger tapped the contract, each click echoing like a judge's gavel. "Expand production, and our 68 stores become 136. Your villagers would earn city wages without leaving their orchards."
The arithmetic stole his breath – provincial expansion meant millions in dividend streams, enough to erect schools and clinics. Yet her true offer glittered brighter than yuan: dignity. No more farmers bowing to middlemen's whims.
"Every peach shall meet your standards," Xu Ling vowed, palm pressed over his racing heart. The gesture felt antiquated, yet Yu's approving nod affirmed its sincerity.
By high noon, the village square transformed into a carnival of hope. Weather-beaten hands presented jewel-toned harvests as Yu's black Maybach purred into the courtyard. Regional Manager Li Chuang emerged, his previously sneering lips now curved in deference.
"Full market value plus thirty percent," he announced, prompting tearful embraces among the farmers. Old Sun's gnarled fingers trembled as he signed; even the ever-sceptical Wang Huifen peered through her kitchen window with cautious optimism.
Xu Ling watched Yu Mengna orchestrate the logistical ballet – her Valentino stilettos crunching gravel as forklifts swallowed crates of ruby peaches. When their gazes locked across the chaos, she gifted him a conspiratorial wink, the scarlet curve of her lipstick mirroring dawn's first light on persimmon groves.
This wasn't mere commerce. It was revolution bottled in the heady fragrance of ripening orchards – and Xu Ling's palms still tingled where her designer glove had brushed during their handshake.
The Arrival of the Fruit Empire
**"Brother Xiao Ling, Manager Yu! Hail!"** Li Chuang emerged from the obsidian-hued jeep, approaching Xu Ling and Yu Mengna with purposeful strides, his polished smile radiating corporate confidence. The villagers erupted into a cacophony of awe, their murmurs buzzing with unrestrained excitement.
**"Xu Ling's promises were true after all!"
**"Six jiao per catty for melons? Our harvest exceeds a thousand catties—this could triple our earnings!"
Within his crumbling abode, Liu Dagou clenched calloused fists as the village's jubilant chorus permeated his walls. Compelled by bitter curiosity, he furtively positioned himself at a concealed observation post.
**"Allow me to present!"** Xu Ling proclaimed, his countenance luminous. **"This is Director Li Chuang of Tiantianxian Fruits' Yunshan County Division!"**
**"Salutations, Director Li!"
**"What procurement rates do you offer?"
**"What model is this magnificent vehicle?"**
The villagers' enquiries cascaded like autumn leaves. Li Chuang raised a commanding palm, his baritone resonating across the square: **"Let me elucidate—Tiantianxian initially sought an exclusive partnership with Brother Xiao Ling. Yet, he championed collective prosperity for Xu Village. Honouring his vision, we shall implement **industry-leading pricing** for all cultivators." **
Yu Mengna inclined her head in tacit approval—a tactical manoeuvre personally directed by the CEO to cement Xu Ling's authority.
**"Watermelons: 1 yuan per catty. Pears: 2.5 yuan. Peaches: 3 yuan. Our team will assess quality, conduct measurements, and disburse **cash payments upon delivery.**"
Thunderous applause erupted like summer monsoons. Liu Dagou recoiled as if struck, his complexion draining to the colour of weathered parchment. **"No wonder Liang Xiaoyong fled like a startled hare... This enterprise operates on an entirely different stratum."
Fresh produce distribution carried inherent peril—spoilage and logistics could eviscerate margins overnight. Only entities with military-grade supply chains dared such premiums. Tiantianxian's bold pricing testified to its market supremacy.
**"My monopolistic control... obliterated,"** Liu Dagou rasped, bile rising. Though vengeance simmered, the memory of Xu Ling's martial prowess against Liang Xiaoyong's brutes extinguished his resolve. **"Confrontation spells ruin... I stand alone."
Meanwhile, Li Chuang's crew operated with chronometric precision: inspectors evaluating Brix levels, digital scales humming, accountants tabulating figures, and cashiers dispensing banknotes. **"Xu Dong: 600 catties of melons—600 yuan exact,"** declared a clerk, proffering a bulging envelope.
Xu Dong's weathered hands trembled as he thumbed through crisp bills. **"This triples Liu Dog's exploitative rates!"**
As twilight gilded the horizon, laden trucks departed while villagers clutched their windfalls, faces illuminated like harvest moons. Yu Mengna drew near Xu Ling, her eyes twin constellations. **"You've transmuted Xu Village into an agricultural El Dorado, Xiao Ling. Next, we replicate this model across the province."
Xu Ling gazed at the receding convoy. **"This transcends currency, Sister Mengna. It's about restoring dignity."
In the lengthening shadows, Liu Dagou slithered away, his dreams of dominion crumbling like desiccated loam. For the first time in living memory, Xu Village possessed both a champion and dawn-lit horizons.
The Tide Turns in Xu Village
Xu Dong's calloused hands quivered as they clasped the crumpled 600-yuan notes—a fortune beyond comprehension for this field-weathered villager who'd never glimpsed the world beyond melon patches. The bitter truth burnt like a summer sun: his entire watermelon harvest, hawked at cutthroat prices to Liu Dagou's monopoly, now lay dwarfed by this single transaction. **"That avaricious cur...how many harvests has he bled dry?"** his inner voice hissed through gritted teeth.
The village square pulsed with transformative energy. Tiantianxian's triple-price policy had rewritten Xu Village's economic reality overnight. **"Xu Hongxi—1,000 _jin_ of peaches—3,000 yuan!"** The crisp slap of thirty banknotes hitting palm resonated like temple bells. Tears carved trails through decades of dust on the old farmer's face. **"Dogdan's bride price secured! Our ancestral line survives!"**
In this remote hinterland where Liu Dagou's thugs had long enforced poverty through intimidation, prosperity now sprouted like miracle crops. Farmers-turned-couriers sprinted through terraced fields shouting, "Bring your harvest now! Fortune waits for no man!"**
Those who'd doubted young Xu Ling and caved to Liu's predatory pricing stood hollow-eyed, their earlier compliance now haunting them like hungry ghosts. **"No second chances in destiny's ledger,"** they murmured, plotting redemptive grovelling before the next harvest moon.
The poetic justice hung thick as monsoon humidity over Liu Dagou's deserted compound. That very dawn, he'd weaponised his distribution network to isolate Xu Ling's household. Now, **the entire village had collectively exiled _him_ through silent consensus.** **"Gold opens more doors than iron fists,"** Xu Ling observed, watching neighbours count bills with smiles wider than rice paddies.
As sunset gilded the last fruit crates being loaded onto departing trucks, foreman Li Chuang's reassurance rippled through the crowd: **"Double the trucks tomorrow! Leave none behind!"**
**"Sister Mengna, be our honoured guest tonight,"** Xu Ling implored, her village's newfound confidence shining through formerly downcast eyes.
Wang Huifen's work-roughened hand clasped Yu Mengna's manicured fingers like vines embracing marble—**"Half this prosperity's your doing! Feast with your second family!" **
Xu Wenhai's chest swelled as he declared, "Chef Lao Li will prepare a banquet worthy of imperial envoys! Let revelry begin!"**
The heiress, accustomed to crystal chandeliers, hesitated...then smiled like dawn breaking over mountains. **"Authentic rural warmth outshines any gilded hall. I'm staying."**
While Xu Ling hurried to summon the village chief, a new current electrified the evening air—not just survival's weary persistence but prosperity's vibrant hum. And in the gathering shadows, Liu Dagou's hunched silhouette knew his predatory era had crumbled like termite-eaten wood.
The Grand Village Feast
Old Man Li stood as the first and only master chef in Xu Family Village, having amassed considerable wealth over the years. His household proudly boasted the village's inaugural two-story dwelling.
Xu Ling hadn't set foot in Old Man Li's home since before his high school graduation—years had slipped by unnoticed.
"Master Li, are you home?"
Xu Ling's voice carried across the courtyard as he approached the two-story residence.
"Present! Who calls?"
A voice weathered by time echoed from within. Moments later, a portly, fair-complexioned elder emerged, his round face breaking into recognition.
"Young Ling! The years have stolen your visits from us!"
Old Man Li instantly identified Xu Ling—where most village youths labored under the sun, their skin bronzed by toil, Xu Ling's university years had preserved his pallor. The chef himself, eschewing fieldwork while indulging in culinary delights, maintained a singular plumpness among the villagers.
"Indeed, Master Li. I seek your services for a victory banquet at my home," Xu Ling stated evenly.
"Celebrating the fruit contract with city merchants? The village hums with this joyous news!" The old chef's laughter rolled like dough beneath practiced hands.
"Precisely." A nod was confirmed.
"You've wrought miracles for Xu Family Village, lad. Our newfound prosperity bears your fingerprints."
Old Man Li's delight wasn't purely altruistic—prosperous villagers meant frequent feasts, while poverty bred empty kitchens.
"Merely my duty." Xu Ling deflected praise with practiced ease.
"How many shall we prepare for?"
"The entire village. Every soul who comes shall find a seat."
The chef's eyes ballooned. "Every—? Such extravagance demands coffers deeper than the village well!" Never in his decades of service had someone commissioned a feast for all.
"Will ten thousand suffice?" Crisp bills materialized in Xu Ling's outstretched hand.
"Nonsense! Your service to our village outweighs silver. Take back your profit—I'll charge only for ingredients." With a flourish worthy of his finest culinary presentation, Old Man Li refused the excess.
"Keep the sum regardless. Adjust as needed." Xu Ling knew the chef's three sons now thrived under Li Chuang's fruit contracts—this generosity flowed both ways.
Their business concluded, Xu Ling departed while Old Man Li marshaled his sons, daughters-in-law, and wife into urgent market preparations—the village square would soon host an unprecedented celebration.
"Young Ling! The banquet awaits only you and Meng Na!"
Wang Huifen's interruption came as Xu Ling lost himself in conversation with Yu Meng Na.
"Sister Na," he extended his arm, "the village gathers. Shall we dine like emperors?"
The Oration at the Revelry
"Indulging in such a captivating conversation that you've neglected the banquet, Meng Na?" Wang Huifen chided, her eyes glimmering with mirth as they rested upon Yu Mengna.
"Mother, that's quite enough—we should assume our places," Xu Ling interposed smoothly.
The throng proved too voluminous for indoor accommodation; the festivities had overflowed into the open courtyard of Xu Ling's ancestral home. A hundred-odd trestles stood regimented across the grounds, each packed with a dozen villagers at minimum. The lively clamour dissolved into breathless silence as Xu Ling and Yu Mengna emerged—all eyes converged upon the youth whose stratagems had summoned urban fruit merchants to their humble threshold, securing not merely this feast but their agrarian prosperity.
Custom dictated the village chief's presence at such convocations.
"Young Master Xu, Honoured Entrepreneur Yu," Chief Xu Fengchun approached with deference, "I've instructed Elder Li to reserve the head table for your esteemed selves. The council of elders and I shall join you there."
"Uncle Fengchun, any seat suffices. Let the venerable ones occupy the places of honour," Xu Ling demurred with practiced humility.
"Chief," Yu Mengna supplemented with diplomatic grace, "Mengna suffices as an address. We shall continue seeking your sagacious counsel henceforth."
"Preposterous! This day declares you both our luminaries." Without further parley, Xu Fengchun shepherded them to the central dais where twin chairs stood in ceremonial vacancy.
As they settled, the chief entreated, "Young Master, Mistress Yu—this symposium commemorates an epochal juncture for Xu Clan Village. Honour the assembly with your benediction."
"Let sustenance take precedence—the dishes grow tepid," Xu Ling deflected. This convivial gathering served a strategic purpose, not vanity.
"Ancestral rites demand oration," the chief insisted with ceremonial gravity.
"Comply, Xu Ling," Yu Mengna murmured, her encouragement veiled beneath lowered lashes.
"Lingzi! The multitude awaits!" Liu Shuxiang's baritone erupted from the sea of faces.
Wang Huifen and Xu Wenhai lent their voices to the rising tide—this rare apotheosis of village attention could not be squandered.
"Very well. Blame not the tedium that follows." With martyred resignation, Xu Ling ascended.
"Silence for the scion!" The chief's stentorian command stilled the compound.
A collective inhalation suspended as hundreds riveted their gaze upon the dais.
"The purpose of our convocation needs no exposition—we celebrate your covenants with Tian Tian Xian Fruit Emporium," Xu Ling commenced, his gaze sweeping the human mosaic. "Retain this wisdom: Tend your orchards with unwavering diligence, implement my novel cultivation methods, and I pledge—your harvests shall burgeon more abundantly than this spread before us."
A thunderous ovation erupted, unrelenting in its fervour.
"The Young Master speaks truth!" A voice soared above the din. "He's brought metropolitan magnates to our gates! We'll labour thricefold—our fruits shall become his pride!"
Banquet of Ascendancy — The Shattered Hegemony
The village chieftain's ancillary observations resonated with Xu Ling's unarticulated stratagems. By orchestrating the Tian Tian Fresh Fruit Consortium's procurement of crops cultivated through his numinous irrigation methodologies, Xu Ling had tacitly woven a covenant with the agrarian collective. Any chicanery in their yield would not merely fracture contractual bonds but erode his gravitas before Yu Mengna's discerning gaze.
"Patriarch Ling's pomological innovations are celestial benedictions—we shall venerate these doctrines," proclaimed a septuagenarian elder, gnarled palms cradling a porcelain cup as though it were a sacrosanct reliquary.
"Under Scion Xu's stewardship, opulence becomes inevitability!" interjected another, met by a susurrus of fervid concurrence. The atmosphere thrummed with symphonic resolve, starkly counterpointed by Liu Dagou's venomous sneer emanating from penumbral recesses.
"Dissemblers!" he hissed, masticating a sunflower seed with reptilian contempt. The rustics' oaths to Xu Ling mirrored hollow platitudes once sworn during his fruitarian monopsony. Now, with Tian Tian's gilded contracts, his intermediary lucre had dissipated like mist beneath the noonday sun. Even erstwhile confederate Liang Xiaoyong, cowed by Xu Ling's burgeoning influence, now relegated his entreaties to spectral silence.
Compelled by Chieftain Xu Fengchun's edict to endure this "jubilation", Liu Dagou observed with gall-bitter eyes as platters of lacquered pork knuckles and amber-glazed squash circumambulated the throng. For the rabble, a Dionysian revel; for him, a funereal wake for waning dominion.
Xu Ling, ensconced in stoic equanimity, imbibed aqueous clarity. The medical immortal's legacy coursing through his meridians had transmuted sustenance into elective indulgence rather than a biological imperative. Yet he maintained ceremonial decorum, presenting his progenitors with morsels of confit de canard while the peasantry devoured Old Li's gastronomic magnum opus with locust-swarm voracity.
"Partake, Xiao Ling! Such ambrosial abundance graces mortal tables but rarely!" exhorted Wang Huifen, chin aquiver with oleaginous luminance. Her scion's sphinxian smile veiled computations transcending the carousel of gluttony—expanding ethereal orchards, consolidating alliances, and the silent exorcism of lingering resentments like Liu Dagou's smouldering rancour.
As hinterland villagers peered through palisade interstices, murmuring of pickled radish suppers, Xu Clan Hamlet's chopsticks clattered in gluttonous counterpoint—a cacophonous overture harmonising nascent hope with swallowed acrimony.
The Toast of Leadership
After multiple rounds of libations and an array of delicacies,
"Xiao Ling, as the newly appointed leader of Xu Family Village, it is customary for you to circulate among the tables and propose toasts to those whose lives you've enriched," advised Village Chief Xu Fengchun, cradling a wine bottle with ceremonial gravitas.
"Certainly," Xu Ling acquiesced with poised readiness.
This ritual of table-to-table salutations held profound significance in Xu Family Village's social fabric – a tradition Xu Ling had strategically woven into his grander vision.
Clutching a wine cup, Xu Ling navigated the banquet hall with dignified strides, trailed by Village Chief Xu Fengchun, who replenished his glass with obsequious attentiveness. Though protocol typically dictated that junior members serve the host, the chief's stewardship tonight crystallised Xu Ling's ascendant stature within the village hierarchy.
"To your prosperity," Xu Ling proclaimed solemnly upon reaching a table.
The assembly rose as one, tilting their glasses downward in deference.
"Xiao Ling, our gratitude for securing our livelihoods," they chorused before draining their cups in unison.
With a regal nod, Xu Ling mirrored their gesture.
"Xiao Ling," Xu Fengchun whispered discreetly, "over a hundred tables remain – a mere sip suffices as courtesy."
"Worry not – this I shall manage," Xu Ling dismissed airily.
The Medical Immortal's legacy coursing through his meridians granted him imperviousness to intoxication, his abundant internal energy allowing him to effortlessly channel the alcohol through his pores.
"Truly, a man of exceptional talent distinguishes himself even in the simplest acts," marvelled Xu Fengchun, observing Xu Ling's unflagging composure through countless toasts. His admonitions transformed into reverent praise.
"Indeed, Lingzi embodies greatness incarnate."
"Emulate Brother Xiao Ling's example – aspire to become pillars of our community," the villagers concurred, their admiration palpable.
Having honoured more than half the assembly with libations, Xu Ling finally approached Liu Dagou's table.
Before his arrival, all rose glasses were in hand – save one.
"Has the feast met your satisfaction?" Xu Ling enquired cordially.
"Beyond measure. Our heartfelt thanks for this banquet, Xiao Ling – such abundance has long been absent from our tables," they responded.
"Your contentment gladdens me." Xu Ling inclined his head slightly before fixing his gaze upon the solitary seated figure of Liu Dagou...
The Fall of a Bully
"Is this meagre spread intended to sustain anyone?"
Liu Dagou reclined indolently on his stool, his features contorted with contempt.
The banquet's jovial ambiance froze instantaneously.
Darkened expressions swept across the gathering. Though resentment simmered among the villagers toward Liu Dagou's provocation, none dared confront him openly—the spectre of his former dominance still haunted their collective memory.
Only Chief Xu Fengchun refused to indulge his theatrics. "Liu Dagou, what drivel spills from your lips? This feast overflows with abundance! Have you the appetite of a swine?"
"Chief, you dare insult me?" Liu Dagou jabbed a trembling finger at his chest, incredulity widening his eyes.
"Were you half the man Xu Ling is—uplifting our villagers—I'd crown you with laurels rather than rebukes!" The chief retorted, his voice sharp as a whetted blade.
"Xu Fengchun! Have you forgotten whose shadow once darkened these lanes? Or do you mistake me for a toothless cur?" Liu Dagou's face purpled with rage. Never before had the chief abandoned diplomatic niceties in their exchanges.
With a thunderous crash, Chief Xu Fengchun struck the table, his voice booming through the hall: **"On your feet! I'll not parley with gangster rhetoric—your tongue speaks no language of mine!"
Liu Dagou stumbled upright as if scalded, gaping at the chief like a landed fish.
"You amassed wealth by exploiting villagers with predatory pricing for their fruits," the chief continued, his indictment slicing through the silence, "yet never spared a crust to break bread with those you bled."
The chief's historical tolerance had rested on twin pillars: Liu Dagou's cadre of enforcers and the grim calculus that even exploitative deals beat watching harvests rot. But the equation had shifted—Liu Dagou's gang had dissolved like morning mist, while Xu Ling's leadership had woven prosperity through the village. Now, with this upstart challenging Xu Ling's honour, restraint served no purpose.
"I've hosted libations for villagers countless times!" Liu Dagou's protest rang hollow—every soul present knew his "villagers" meant only sycophantic followers.
"You refer to your band of layabout troublemakers?" The chief's derisive snort could have frostbitten wine.
"They remain villagers," came the sullen mutter.
"Mark this well: should I witness one more act of intimidation, I'll cast you beyond Xu Family Village's boundaries!" The chief's decree carried the finality of a tombstone's engraving.
"...Understood, Uncle Xu." Trembling with barely contained fury, Liu Dagou forced the submission through gritted teeth. For decades, he'd ruled through terror—never before had humiliation's blade cut so deep. Yet power's tide had turned, leaving him stranded on the shore of obsolescence.
"Chief Xu Ling approaches to propose the toast! Let harmony prevail," interjected a quick-witted elder, hoisting his cup like a peace banner.
"Ah! We nearly forgot tonight's purpose!" The chief clapped his forehead theatrically, then performed the unthinkable—personally replenishing Xu Ling's wine vessel. This honour, never before bestowed upon any villager, hung heavy with symbolic weight.
"To communal prosperity," Xu Ling raised his chalice, sunlight glinting through the amber liquid.
"To Xu Ling—architect of our renaissance!" chorused the assembly, their voices weaving a tapestry of gratitude.
A Toast of Retribution
The villagers raised their glasses deferentially, their cups dipped in respect—all but one.
"Liu Dagou," Village Chief Xu Fengchun hissed, frost etching his voice, "did the breakage stop at your leg? Or has your spine rusted, too? Can't even lift a toast?"
Grumbling, Liu Dagou snatched his cup and jerked it toward Xu Ling—a hollow gesture.
Xu Ling's gaze sharpened. *Now.
Silent as a shadow, he channeled spiritual energy through his fingertips. A flick, imperceptible as a dragonfly's wingbeat, sent a thread of qi coiling into Liu Dagou's wine—undetected, inevitable.
This was the **Scourge of Flux**, a petty hex from the Medical Immortal's trove. For mortals, its wrath spanned hours of gut-wrenching torment to desiccated oblivion. Xu Ling had chosen mercy: just enough agony to etch this lesson in Liu Dagou's bones—*never again* threaten his kin.
Oblivious, the man downed the wine with a resentful glug.
Xu Ling watched, a ghostly smile playing on his lips. *Let the symphony begin.
After circumnavigating the hundred banquet tables with the chief, Xu Ling returned to the head seat.
"Xiao Ling," Xu Fengchun marvelled, "your liver's forged from mountain iron."
"How much did he drink?" Wang Huifen blinked.
"Ten *jin* of firewine."
"Ten?!" The table erupted. No mortal could drain a sea like that and stand unbent—let alone stone-eyed, skin unflushed. They never saw the truth: Xu Ling's meridians had vaporised every drop before it kissed his blood.
"Son," Xu Wenhai narrowed his eyes, "since when did Jiangnan's alehouses breed sea monsters?"
"College nights," Xu Ling shrugged. "Practice makes perfect." The real answer—*cultivation*—would've carved panic into their mortal minds.
"Father, Mother, Uncle—the moon climbs. I'll escort President Yu home."
"Rest!" the villagers chorused, treasuring him like jade. His parents lingered; feasts end, but scraps sustain winter nights.
As Xu Ling and Yu Mengna walked, cicadas weaving silver through the dark, she broke the silence:
"That Liu Dagou… Wasn't he the rat who ambushed you and Manager Li with Liang Xiaoyong?"
"A footnote," Xu Ling waved. "With your jade banner shielding me, even mountain tigers would kneel." Unintended, his words draped her in silken praise.
"Call me… *Sister Na* when we're alone," she murmured, peonies blooming in her cheeks. "Or… *Nana."
"*Nana*?!"
"Sister Na," he demurred, "you're phoenix-veined, jade-boned. A mudfoot like me dares not overreach."
He never saw it—how his humility watered the seed she'd hidden.
"Why cage yourself?" she countered, not hiding her tremble. "You now hold shares in *Tian Tian Xian*. A dragon among carps."
Lunar Promenade and Lingering Silhouettes
Yu Mengna adjusted her posture with professional composure. "My current circumstances suffice. Subsequently, I shall impart arboricultural methodologies to guide the villagers."
"An apt stratagem," Xu Ling concurred.
"Xiao Ling... The moonlight proves resplendent this eve. Might you accompany my perambulation?" Yu Mengna's entreaty carried deliberate cadence, her ocular orbs glimmering beneath celestial constellations.
"Sister Na, since when did nocturnal obscurity cease to intimidate you?" Xu Ling riposted with an arched brow, mischief lacing his timbre.
"Terror dissipates when proximity grants sanctuary," she countered, crystalline laughter accompanying her interlinked arm through his as they meandered along the rural thoroughfare. Crepuscular chirrations accompanied their passage; argent lunar radiance cascaded across cultivated terrains.
Yu Mengna's covert gazes traced Xu Ling's athletic contours, her cogitations veiled beneath a demure countenance. When he pivoted to articulate, she inclined forward—her diaphanous nightrail yielding to reveal the gentle swell of her bosom, an alabaster valley of voluptuousness that arrested Xu Ling's respiration. Merciful heavens, such magnificent amplitude!
"Xiao Ling, what phenomenon captivates your attention?" she queried with artless inflection.
"Ah—our familial vegetable plot! The Cucumis sativus approach optimal maturity. Permit me to harvest specimens for your appraisal." Flustered, he gestured toward verdant trellises.
"Your cultivars command admiration... robust and superlative in form." Her chuckle resonated with layered implications as she surveyed climbing vines.
Xu Ling plucked an emerald cylinder, purifying it at the stone well before proffering it. "Substantial in girth, succulent in constitution—ideal for estival refreshment. Do sample its virtues."
"Mmm, textural crispness married to dulcet notes." She incised the vegetal flesh, then gasped as damp humus betrayed her footing.
"Circumspection!" Xu Ling intercepted her descent, their forms pressed in sudden congress. Floral essence enveloped him as her arms ensnared his cervical column, deliberate in regaining equilibrium—more deliberate still in sustaining contact.
"How graceless of my movement..." she murmured, yet maintained digital entwinement.
Xu Ling's carotid rhythm accelerated. Yu Mengna's topology defied denial—every contour manifesting eidetic perfection.
"Tsk. Xiao Ling, can truth underlie your celibate state? Your diffidence surpasses even mine." Amused composure anchored her scrutiny as he floundered.
Novitiate in amorous arts, Xu Ling found himself outmatched. "S-Sister Na, nocturnality deepens. We should... seek repose..."
**Interlude: Liu Dagou's Tenebrous Epiphany**
Following convivial humiliation at the symposium, Liu Dagou had retreated tempestuously to his domicile. His courtyard, erstwhile vibrant with sycophants and gaming tables, stood desolate—a stony requiem for dissipated hegemony.
He exhaled profundity, relocating his armchair interiorward. Infusing tea, he slouched beneath lunar scrutiny, ventilating himself with a Corypha umbraculifera implement.
Antiquity knew different rhythms.
In halcyon epochs, a dozen satellites orbited his presence. Diurnal pomaceous commerce yielded myriad taels; gambling emporiums and usurious enterprises compounded lucre. Present reality? Only reverberations of squandered dominion remained.
The Revenge of the Diarrhea Curse
Liu Dagou lay supine upon his recliner, seething in acrimony. His erstwhile devoted underlings had deserted him when financial streams dwindled, while the prosperous fruit-trading dominion he'd erected—yielding thousands daily—had disintegrated into oblivion.
All transpired through that contemptible Xu Ling's machinations. Gnashing his molars, he pledged retribution. As for those perfidious "brethren"? When fortune's tide returns, they shall grovel at my threshold—only to find the portal barred!
Midway through his reverie of restored glory, an aberrant gurgling disturbance arose from his abdominal depths.
"Glooooorp..."
Liu Dagou cast a cursory glance at his midriff, dismissing it as flatulent ephemera. Yet minutes later, the cacophony resurged with augmented ferocity: "Glorp-glorp-GLORP!"
Bafflement gripped him. The banquet's meagre repast could scarcely explain this visceral clamour.
Then, revelation struck.
An arctic current ascended his spinal column, piercing his cranium before cascading downward, serpentining through his intestinal labyrinth like a venomous asp. The invasive chill descended... descended... until—
"PFFFFFFT!"
A seismic detonation reverberated through the courtyard.
"By the gods—a literal deluge!"
Too tardy. A scathing torrent erupted posteriorly, the liquefied contents permeating his breeches in viscous humiliation.
He lunged toward the privy, yet containment proved futile. Each frantic stride unleashed amber rivulets cascading down his trembling limbs. Those five metres stretched into an eternity of humiliation, each step a testament to human frailty.
Collapsing upon the latrine's wooden planks, his corporeal form became but an empty vessel. Catharsis arrived through violent, soul-purging paroxysms.
Spent and enervated, he staggered back to his recliner. "At last... respite," he rasped, sinking into the cushions—
"GLORP-GLORP-GLORP!"
His entrails roared like Poseidon's trident-stirred maelstrom. Through Herculean effort, Liu Dagou regained the privy mere moments before his viscera executed full inversion.
Fifteen apocalyptic minutes later, he emerged, tremulous. His lips bore the pallor of calcified bone; his countenance mirrored curdled soybean residue. The ancient adage "not even Hercules could endure three diarrhoeal onslaughts" manifested with cruel literality—his rectum felt as though it had been everted with a corroded hook.
Gazing heavenward through tear-blurred vision at the impassive firmament, Liu Dagou's whimper echoed through the courtyard: "WHAT CTHONIC POISON HAVE I INGESTED?!"
The Prurient Catalyst
Liu Dagou lay splayed across the earthen floor like an emptied grain sack, his vitality drained by twenty successive paroxysms of violent intestinal upheaval. The once formidable bandit now resembled a quivering cicada husk, incapable of mustering strength even to crawl toward his weathered recliner.
"Could it have been the banquet? The previous night's feast?" His muddled consciousness scrabbled for answers through a mental fog. "Xu Ling... This reeks of his machinations!" Yet, without substantiation, his suspicions hung as useless as his enervated limbs.
Meanwhile: The Midnight Summons
Xu Ling had scarcely completed his evening meditation when three measured raps fractured the silence.
"Who seeks entry at this hour?"
"'Tis I... Mengna."
The door creaked open to reveal Yu Mengna limned in lunar radiance, her night garments whispering against curves that even the modest silk could scarcely contain. A telltale flush bloomed across her décolletage as she noted his inadvertent glance.
"You appear... indisposed?" The physician's instinct surfaced despite his discomfiture.
"A mosquito's trespass... between my shoulder blades." Her confession barely disturbed the night air.
"Merely scratch it then," he countered, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips.
"I endeavoured thus!" Her toes curled in mortification beneath the hem of her sleeping robes.
"Urbanites and their fastidiousness," Xu Ling chuckled, the rustic cadence of his village speech colouring the observation. "In my mountain hamlet, folk would address such irritations publicly without second thought."
After prolonged silence quivering with unspoken implications, she acquiesced. "Would you... assist me?"
His calloused digits grazed the valley of her spine through diaphanous fabric. "This locus?"
"Insufficient..." Her body arced involuntarily, the torment now manifesting as a physical tremor.
"Shall I... navigate beneath?" The words escaped like wayward spirits.
Their gazes collided – his contrite, hers inscrutable.
"I intended no..." he began, backpedaling into verbal chaos.
"Proceed."
A breath was suspended. A spark kindled.
To be continuous…