Chapter Thirty-Three: An Old Taoist Arrives at the Hospital

"It's wickedly cold tonight," Qi Kun said, blowing warm air onto his hands. "Give me a cigarette, mine are still in your yard."
Yang Meng retorted, "Can't you just wear more clothes?"
Hu Er Leng grinned, "With all that fat, he's like a polar bear. People with plenty of fat don't fear the cold. Give me a cigarette too."
Yang Meng, however, pulled the pack away. "Take out those luxury cigarettes you stash in your suit pocket and share them with everyone, you stingy devil!"
Hu Er Leng widened his eyes. "What luxury cigarettes? I can't afford anything that good!"
Qi Kun had already reached for his pocket. "Come on, hand them over. Everyone knows you! You smoke the four-yuan Red Flag yourself, but the forty-yuan premium ones are for clients!"
"Alright, alright, I'll get them myself! Don't ruin my clothes," Hu Er Leng pleaded. "You never know your own strength—if you tear my jacket, what then? It cost over eight hundred. I still need it for meeting clients!"
Qi Kun took the cigarette and commented, "All style, no warmth. You're really just wearing this? Aren't you cold?"
Hu Er Leng nodded, "Lobster, you're not wrong. The weather's just like Meng Meng's love life—chilly morning and evening."
"Go to hell!" Yang Meng shot him a middle finger. "Stop talking nonsense. Finish your smoke and let's go check on the madman upstairs."
Hu Er Leng nodded, "Damn it, we really need to make that madman pay for dinner. That bastard made us worry all night!"
Yang Meng rested his chin in his hand. "I think it's easy to get him to treat us. If it weren't for today, we wouldn't even know the bastard has a girlfriend. He keeps secrets so well—even Lobster, living with him, had no idea."
"Please. Lobster's a pig. Besides eating and sleeping, what else does he know?" Hu Er Leng said.
"Er Leng, you're asking for a beating, aren't you? Meng Meng, judge for us—is Er Leng even talking like a human?" Qi Kun said angrily.
Yang Meng nodded, "Er Leng, that was a bit much."
Qi Kun looked smugly at Hu Er Leng, but Yang Meng's next words wiped the smile off his face: "But honestly, aren't you insulting pigs?"
Hu Er Leng burst out laughing. Qi Kun tried to keep a straight face but ended up laughing too.
They had reason to be happy now—Ling Feng had escaped disaster. What else was there to be angry about?
"Hey, what are you doing here?" A woman's voice sounded behind them as they laughed.
Yang Meng turned to see a beautiful woman standing behind them. She was about five foot seven, not yet thirty, dressed in a beige trench coat, her black hair casually tied in a ponytail, her face lightly made up—appearing both elegant and capable.
He exchanged a glance with Hu Er Leng, confirming neither of them knew her.
But Qi Kun, seeing her face, broke into a grin. "Oh, you're here too... What a pig-headed moment—I brought you here myself!"
At that, Yang Meng understood. This was the wealthy woman Qi Kun had mentioned, the one who tossed him a thousand yuan after taking a taxi from the airport to the hospital. Well, he hadn't exaggerated—she really was stunning.
The woman asked, puzzled, "Are you working here?"
Qi Kun replied, "No, no, my cousin is in this hospital. We're here to visit him. Are you heading out?"
She shook her head. "No, my sister's upstairs with a strange illness. The doctors are all at a loss, so I came out to clear my head. Um, can I have a cigarette?"
Qi Kun hurriedly handed her one and lit it for her. She clearly wasn't used to smoking—after one puff, she coughed violently.
"Uh, I don't know what to say," Qi Kun said, hastening to comfort her. "Don't worry too much—good fortune favors the kind. When we arrived, the doctors said we should prepare for my cousin's funeral, but now they've told us he's fine. The most infuriating part is, even they can't explain why. Don't worry—your sister will pull through, too."
"I'll take your kind words," she said, though her face remained tense, worry etched deep—a clear sign of sisterly love.
The atmosphere turned awkward. Qi Kun, searching for something to say, asked, "May I ask your name?"
The woman hesitated, forcing a smile. "You can call me West Chamber. I'll go back and check on my sister now." She didn't ask Qi Kun's name and headed back into the hospital.
Hu Er Leng watched her leave and shook his head. "See the manners? Clearly doesn't want to know Lobster, but still politely introduces herself."
Qi Kun shot him a look. "Give it a rest. You're just jealous a beauty spoke to me."
Hu Er Leng snorted. "Come on—she's clearly upset and just wanted someone to talk to. If a pig stood in front of her, she'd have chatted with the pig, too."
Qi Kun retorted, "You talk like a psychologist. But when you stood there like a pig, did she speak to you?"
"Others might call me a pig and I'd accept it, but you? Have you ever looked in a mirror?" Hu Er Leng fired back.
Yang Meng watched their banter with amusement. Now that the madman was safe, everyone's spirits were high—arguing and bantering to lighten the mood.
Qi Kun looked toward where the girl had gone. "Listen to that name—'West Chamber.' Beautiful woman, beautiful name, good temperament. Marrying a woman like her would be a blessing earned in a previous life."
Hu Er Leng shook his head. "Who's really surnamed 'West'? Even Xi Shi wasn't. If you pair this name with a good surname, it's pleasant, but what if it's 'Zhuang' or 'Jia'? The name would lose its charm."
"Give it a rest, will you?" Qi Kun grumbled.
Hu Er Leng laughed. "Just waking you up from your daydream. That beauty is out of your league. Her coat is this year's Burberry—costs nearly sixty thousand! Our boss's wife has the exact same one. No way I'd mistake it! Why would she notice you? Just because pork prices are high?"
Qi Kun scoffed, "Wait till we become barbecue kings—then we'll see who looks down on us."
"That's true. Now that the madman's fine, we should focus on the barbecue shop. I'm quitting my job tomorrow—I've had enough of sucking up in the dealership."
"Driving a taxi, you meet all sorts of weirdos! Sometimes it's infuriating—and working for others is never as comfortable as being your own boss."
The topic shifted instantly to the barbecue shop. Yang Meng, the big financier, was left out.
He didn't mind. His thoughts were still on the wine gourd that cured Ling Feng. Could it really heal all ailments? Were there side effects? When would Ling Feng wake up? Why did marinating meat with it not cause drunkenness?
He wished he could ask the wine god directly—couldn't his magical artifact come with a user manual?
"Hmm?" Lost in thought, something caught his attention.
Not only him—even Hu Er Leng and Qi Kun broke off their business talk.
A deep blue Aston Martin DBS stopped at the hospital entrance.
Just a sports car wouldn't surprise them, but the person who stepped out wasn't a handsome man or glamorous woman, nor a wealthy tycoon—it was an elderly Daoist priest, white-haired but youthful-faced!
A Daoist priest driving a supercar? Yang Meng and the others exchanged looks. This was what you called urban sophistication!
As soon as the Daoist stepped out, a young man in a suit greeted him respectfully and ushered him into the hospital.
Watching the priest stride confidently inside, Yang Meng and the others stared at each other in confusion.
"Meng Meng, did I see that right? Was that a Daoist priest? Did you see the gold chain around his neck? So thick—must weigh at least half a kilo! Is that really a priest?" Hu Er Leng asked uncertainly.
Yang Meng blinked. "Who knows? Looks like a Daoist, but I've never seen one so flashy."
Qi Kun said, "He really is a genuine Daoist—I know him!"
"What?" Yang Meng and Hu Er Leng tilted their heads toward him.
Qi Kun explained, "There's a temple in the southern hills outside the city. He's the head priest, what's his name? Oh, Abbot Yunhe!"
Hu Er Leng was baffled. "What nonsense? That's not a temple, it's a Daoist shrine! And 'abbot' is for monks—aren't Daoist leaders called 'masters'?"
Qi Kun slapped his forehead. "Right, right! It's a shrine—'Immortal Altar Daoist Shrine.' But he does go by 'Abbot Yunhe.' He even gave me a business card—it's written like that."
"Ridiculous! What Daoist calls himself 'abbot'? And gives out business cards?" Hu Er Leng protested.
Qi Kun grew agitated. "The card's in my car! Wait, I'll show you."
Yang Meng stopped him. "No need, I believe you. Daoism has many sects. In some branches, like the Quanzhen and certain Zhengyi shrines, the head priest is called 'host' or 'abbot.'"
"See, Er Leng! If you're dumb, read more books! Look at Meng Meng!" Qi Kun straightened up. "And I just remembered—he told me a month ago that my family would face changes within the month. It's not been a month yet—maybe he meant this madman incident?"
"Come on!" Hu Er Leng clearly didn't believe him. "Just like fortune tellers—never say anything definite. Always leave you guessing!"
"Nonsense—he's got real skills! The Immortal Altar shrine is thriving!" Qi Kun argued.
Seeing them about to fight again, Yang Meng stepped in. "You're missing the point. Whether he's genuine or a con artist—don't you wonder why he's here at the hospital? Chasing ghosts?"