Chapter Thirty-Two: The Effects of the Immortal Wine

“Hold down your friend! He’s too agitated!” A young nurse blocked the doorway to the observation room, speaking to Yang Meng.

Qi Kun was overwhelmed with grief; if not for Hu Er Leng clinging tightly to him, he would have dashed into the room already.

Yang Meng sighed, “Lobster, stop crying. We need to figure out how to break this to your uncle.”

Qi Kun gradually stifled his sobs. “Meng Meng, you were with Madman at the end. Did he say anything to you?”

Yang Meng shook her head. “Not much. He just said he wanted barbecue; still owed us a round of drinks; asked you to take care of your uncle, and, oh—he wanted me to inform his girlfriend about his death.”

“What?” Hu Er Leng and Qi Kun both gaped in astonishment. “Girlfriend?”

Yang Meng shrugged. “Yeah, I had the same expression just now. He didn’t elaborate, said the contact’s in his phone. We’ll find out when we go to the police station to handle his belongings.”

Hu Er Leng cocked his head, sitting on a bench in the corridor. “Lobster, you didn’t know about this?”

Qi Kun shook his head, settling beside Hu Er Leng. “No idea. Strange, why didn’t Madman tell us?”

Yang Meng sat down as well. “He probably didn’t trust you two, one’s reckless, the other’s clueless. If you manage to look after the old man, that’ll be enough.”

Hu Er Leng sighed. “I’ve said it countless times, but I can’t help repeating myself: Meng Meng, I just can’t beat you. Otherwise, I’d give you a good thrashing.”

“Damn!” Yang Meng suddenly slapped her forehead as if remembering something.

“What is it?” Hu Er Leng and Qi Kun asked in unison.

Yang Meng replied, “Before Madman left, he asked for a drink. I let him have a sip, so at least he left satisfied. But why didn’t I give him a cigarette? Then he would’ve had no regrets.”

“I’ll go burn a few packs for him.” Qi Kun wiped his tears and stood up abruptly. “Should we buy him a burial outfit now, maybe some candles and spirit money?”

Yang Meng got up. “We should. I’ll go with you.”

Qi Kun gazed at the closed door of the observation room. “How can someone just vanish like that?”

Yang Meng put his arm around Qi Kun’s shoulder. “Come on, man. It’s happened, let’s not overthink. Let’s take care of Madman’s affairs first, and you figure out how to call your uncle.”

At that moment, Hu Er Leng, off to the side, wore a suspicious look. “Something’s not right.”

“What’s wrong?” Yang Meng asked curiously.

Hu Er Leng pointed at the observation room door. “Shouldn’t they have let us in by now? It’s been ages—surely they’ve finished cleaning up their medical tools.”

Yang Meng looked at the door, suddenly realizing. “Yeah, what’s going on?”

Qi Kun looked at the two. “What are you whispering about? What’s happened?”

Yang Meng frowned, pointing at the observation room. “We should be allowed to arrange Madman’s body now. Why are the doctors and nurses still inside? Does the hospital offer a corpse arrangement service?”

No sooner had he finished speaking than the observation room door suddenly swung open. An elderly doctor rushed out, jogging straight toward them. “Who among you was the last in the observation room?”

The three exchanged confused glances, none knowing what was happening.

Finally, Yang Meng stepped forward. “It was me. Is something wrong?”

The old doctor grabbed Yang Meng’s collar. “What did you do in there?”

Qi Kun glared at Yang Meng. “Meng Meng, what’s going on? Did you do something to Madman? Did you kill him?”

Yang Meng felt his head swell. “Who the hell killed Madman? Stop talking nonsense!”

“Then what is it? Why’s the doctor after you?” Qi Kun seized Yang Meng’s clothes, demanding answers.

“How should I know?” Yang Meng was furious, shoving Qi Kun away. “Say one more stupid thing and I’ll really hit you! Doctor, let go of me! My best friend just died, we’re all upset. If you keep this up, don’t blame me for being rude!”

“Died?” The doctor paused, then quickly released Yang Meng’s collar. “Oh, sorry, I got carried away. What I meant is—it’s a medical miracle! Your friend is actually fine!”

“Fine?” Now it was their turn to be stunned.

Yang Meng stared wide-eyed. “I saw him close his eyes—that’s why I called you in!”

The doctor explained, “He was asleep.”

“Asleep? Are you kidding us?” Yang Meng’s eyes widened. “That’s not funny.”

The doctor hurriedly said, “I’m serious. When we went in, we thought the patient had passed, but the monitor showed his heart beating strong and steady! We did a thorough check and not only is he fine, but the organ failure caused by the chemical toxin is also improving! This is a miracle in medicine!”

“Wow!” The three hugged each other and cheered, drawing curious looks from people in the hospital.

The doctor quickly calmed them, grabbing Yang Meng. “Young man, what exactly did you do in there? Please tell me—it could help us treat similar cases in the future!”

Yang Meng was stumped. “What did I do?”

Then it hit him: What did I do? I just gave him a sip of wine—the Divine Brewer’s gourd! That thing isn’t just a great seasoning, it really cures people!

He’d always thought it unscientific, but now he realized: can the affairs of immortals be explained by science?

Seeing the storm of expressions on Yang Meng’s face, the old doctor seized him again. “Have you remembered? What did you do in there? Tell me quickly!”

“I gave him… the medical alcohol on the tool tray!” Yang Meng lied without batting an eye.

He had to lie. What was he supposed to say—that he had the Wine God’s gourd, and after infusing it with mana, it produced endless wine, defying all laws of energy conservation? That it’s perfect for marinating meat and cures all ailments? If he said that, he’d be one step closer to the mental hospital.

The doctor gaped. “What?”

Yang Meng kept a straight face. “My buddy said the pain was unbearable and wanted a drink before he went. There was no real alcohol, only medical spirits, so he asked me to give him some. You know the rest.”

He thought the doctor wouldn’t believe him and was ready to keep up the charade, but the old doctor actually nodded. “No, I believe you. He does smell of alcohol.”

Yang Meng quickly replied, “Then why are you asking? Isn’t my friend fine now? Why not ask him?”

The old doctor smiled wryly. “If I could, I would. But… let’s just say, I’ve seen plenty of drunks, but never one this drunk!”

“What?” Qi Kun’s jaw dropped. “Doctor, are you joking? My cousin is nicknamed ‘Li Bai Died in a Cup, Lives in the Wine.’ We’ve never seen him drunk! Old Fang from our village brews his own rotgut, and my cousin can drink four pounds alone! You’re saying he’s drunk? That’s an international joke!”

The doctor shook his head. “That’s the fact. He’s breathing steadily, his health is improving, the brain scan shows everything’s normal, and his blood alcohol level isn’t high. But he’s in a deep sleep. The only plausible explanation is that he’s drunk.”

Yang Meng was dumbfounded. He’d heard legends of immortal wine making people sleep for a thousand days. Damn, is Madman going to lie in a hospital bed for three years after a single sip?

If that’s a side effect, would Yang Meng dare use celestial wine for marinating meat in his barbecue shop?

As Yang Meng’s thoughts raced, Qi Kun was overjoyed. “Doctor, can we go see him now?”

“Uh…” Before the doctor could reply, Hu Er Leng shoved Yang Meng and Qi Kun. “What a silly question. The doctor says Madman’s fine, let’s go see Sleeping Beauty! Take lots of pictures now—we can blackmail him when he wakes up!”

Seeing the doctor’s glance, Yang Meng smiled wryly. “Doctor, I really don’t know what happened. If you don’t believe me, won’t you find out when he wakes up? You said it’s a medical miracle—I’m starting to think it really might be a miracle. Maybe you should analyze your bottle of alcohol?”

The doctor scrutinized Yang Meng for a while, then sighed and took a slip of paper from the nurse’s station, scribbling a phone number on it. “I’m Di Shouye, chief of internal medicine at the city hospital. If you remember anything, please call me.”

Yang Meng accepted the note. “Thank you, Director Di. Can we see my friend now?”

Di Shouye said, “The medical staff are still monitoring his condition inside. Wait a moment. Young man, if you recall anything, call me immediately. If we can figure out the mystery here, it could mean major progress in medicine!”

Yang Meng smiled wryly. “I really only gave him a sip of alcohol. Maybe it’s just the disinfectant killing the toxins?”

Di Shouye slapped his forehead. “You’re right! I should have that alcohol analyzed! Maybe that’s the key!” He turned and hurried back into the observation room, leaving only his retreating figure behind.

“So Madman’s fine? I don’t need to call my uncle?” Qi Kun, catching on, beamed.

Yang Meng and Hu Er Leng nodded together. “Looks that way!”

“So what do we do now? They won’t let us in.”

“Uh… how about we go back and barbecue to celebrate?”

“Get lost!”

PS: I just realized it’s double voting month? But with so little posted, I’m embarrassed to ask for votes…