Chapter 61: Master Chen
The strange taste of a hundred Bosque snake gallbladders mingled in Liang Xiaoyu’s mouth at last became unbearable. She let out a retching cry, on the verge of vomiting. Xiaolongnu stepped lightly, instantly widening the distance by several meters. Huang Yaoshi’s expression shifted, his palm rising gently. Just as the foreign matter in Liang Xiaoyu’s mouth rolled into her throat, a sudden force wrapped around her. In the next moment, she was propelled out like a cannonball. The skylight of the Scripture Pavilion was wide open, and Liang Xiaoyu shot through it.
Huang Yaoshi was stunned, Xiaolongnu equally dumbfounded. The volunteers watching quietly at the entrance exchanged bewildered glances. As confusion reigned in their minds, Number Zero’s cold, mechanical voice echoed through the Scripture Pavilion.
“Warning: No spitting, vomiting, urinating, or defecating in the Scripture Pavilion. First offense, forced expulsion; second offense, permanent blacklist.”
The crowd felt a chill upon hearing this, yet it seemed only fitting. Such a sacred place could not become a repository for filth. Those prepared to swallow the Bosque snake gallbladder and precious snake blood concoctions clenched their fists. They would not falter like weaklings. They had once jumped into cesspools to rescue people, washed up, and gone straight to eat—how could they lack such endurance now? If it doesn’t kill you, eat it to your limits!
…
Liang Xiaoyu landed outside the Scripture Pavilion in a sprawling “X” shape. Aside from looking disheveled, she wasn’t particularly hurt. But her heart was filled with fear and anxiety.
“Am I going to be thrown out?” Her face turned deathly pale.
She knew better than anyone the wonders of Fantasy Park. According to what Qiao Mian had mentioned, everything she could imagine would eventually appear here: starships for intergalactic travel, haunted houses built with real ghosts, the legendary Flaming Mountain, ancient castles where vampires lurk, demon-sealing towers imprisoning monsters, and Chang’e dancing in the Palace of the Moon…
Suddenly, she heard the voice from inside the Scripture Pavilion: “First offense, forced expulsion; second offense, permanent blacklist.”
She recalled the park’s visitor regulations indeed having similar clauses. Slapping her forehead hard, she smiled wryly and murmured, “Why couldn’t I hold out?”
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Letting out a long breath, she stood up.
“I don’t believe it!” She raised her chin to the three large characters atop the Scripture Pavilion, steeling herself, “I refuse to be defeated by this taste!”
Standing tall, she clenched her fists in secret: “From today on, I’ll eat a snake gallbladder every day.”
Picking up her phone, which had fallen nearby, she found the livestream still ongoing. Facing the wild guesses and chaos in her livestream room, Liang Xiaoyu explained the situation briefly.
“If you ever get a chance to enter, be careful—don’t make the same mistake as me.”
She added, “The taste of Bosque snake gallbladder and the precious snake blood concoction is really unpleasant. If you’re worried you won’t endure it, try preparing something similar in advance.”
“I plan to eat one snake gallbladder with every meal starting tomorrow!”
…
Evening fell.
Qiao Mian quietly tallied his gains.
One hundred volunteers, plus Liang Xiaoyu the streamer. Each spent an average of 8.5 million on martial arts manuals. As for the Bosque snake gallbladder and precious snake blood concoctions, aside from Liang Xiaoyu, five others purchased them. All five were military personnel, well versed in the Complete Truth Heart Manual. They came to the Scripture Pavilion only to buy some agility and technique-based martial arts, waited for Liang Xiaoyu to scout ahead, then made their own purchases.
Uniformly, the five bought one hundred Bosque snake gallbladders and fifty units of precious snake blood concoction each.
That’s two hundred years’ worth of cultivation.
Compared with Liang Xiaoyu, their endurance was clearly much greater. Apart from looking grim, they showed no signs of discomfort.
Qiao Mian knew these were not the most gifted among them. The most valued were the eight who studied top-tier martial arts. He had spoken with Wang Lang, aware the military planned to have those eight master the elite arts first, then acquire five hundred years of cultivation directly.
He was curious just how powerful five hundred years of cultivation could be.
Regardless,
On this day, Qiao Mian amassed a total of 26,085,000 popularity points.
If he could pocket all that money, even the Fubao Horse would soon call him “Daddy.”
Unfortunately…
“The real windfall should come tomorrow,” Qiao Mian mused.
…
A new day dawned.
Outside Fantasy Park, long lines had already formed.
Given the park’s headline status everywhere, there was no need for further promotion. After consultation among the nations, the media ticket quota was reduced from 100 to 10. The remaining slots were redistributed according to previous proportions.
For the forty-plus new slots, Wang Lang offered his suggestion. He had heard Qiao Mian mention giving ordinary people a chance. Even now, with every ticket extremely precious, to maintain friendly relations, the Rabbit Country government decided to release these slots.
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On several online platforms, a ticket lottery was launched.
Rabbit Country determined ticket ownership by lottery.
Chen Ji was one of the lucky winners.
Unlike many others who resold their tickets at astronomical prices, he purchased travel tickets to Misty Mountain the moment he won.
His excitement never faded.
He was a clinical medicine student at Sun Yat-sen University.
He also bore another identity.
Chen Gaoming, the sixty-eight-year-old Taiji master, was his only son.
His feelings toward his father were complicated.
His father did know some flashy moves, but boasted excessively. During the qigong craze, Master Chen held lectures at the local TV station, claiming his Taiji energy could strike a cow from across a mountain and cure all ailments.
Even in recent years, when the media exposed fake traditional martial arts masters, Master Chen shamelessly insisted he could take down eighteen fighters with one punch. He spent money organizing a demonstration match, inviting much skepticism. His colleague, Master Ma, attempted to learn but was caught off guard when the opponent was replaced and suffered a crushing defeat.
Chen Ji deeply disapproved of his father’s behavior, leading to heated arguments at the dinner table. Yet Master Chen adored his only son, born when he was nearly fifty. Apart from his habitual boasting and deception, he would do anything for his son.
This left Chen Ji conflicted.
Especially when his classmates learned his father was Master Chen, it made him deeply embarrassed.
Despite his girlfriend urging him to focus on himself, he remained resentful.
He couldn’t bring himself to expose his father.
Nor could he, like that old fraud, cover his ears and claim his father was a good man.
So, when he won the ticket, he realized his chance had come.
He wanted to give the ticket to his father.
If the old man really could kill a cow with one punch, who would call him a fraud?
But Master Chen refused his son’s offer.
Instead, he sold their three homes, borrowed from all relatives and friends, and scraped together over twenty million, giving it all to his son.
“If my son is impressive enough, who will say I’m a fraud!” Master Chen declared.
“My time is up,” he continued, “and my reputation is what it is.”
“Even if I enter and become powerful, people will only complain that heaven is unfair—that even frauds get in…”
Master Chen earnestly told his son, “Such an opportunity is heaven’s favor. You’ve managed to cultivate internal energy in such a short time; you have talent and must not waste it.”
“Go in, buy some of those snake gallbladders, become stronger, and take over the family martial arts school when you return. I’ll retire.”
Master Chen laughed, “People will only say that Chen Ji, son of Master Chen, once used questionable means to raise his initial capital—perhaps it’ll turn into a fine story.”
Seeing his father’s resolve, Chen Ji had no choice but to agree.
Calming himself, he realized his father was right.
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