Chapter Forty-Nine: Sujiu

After a short wait, the waiter finally appeared, drenched in sweat, and brought out all the dishes Chen Jiu had ordered.

“Please enjoy your meal, young master.”

Chen Jiu glanced over the steaming, fragrant food, and his mouth instantly watered. Without any concern for appearances, he dug in ravenously.

Sitting across from him, the handsome young gentleman watched with amusement flickering in his eyes.

He said, “Brother, I take it you haven’t eaten in quite some time?”

Chen Jiu paused, chicken still in his mouth, then simply continued eating without responding.

Seeing Chen Jiu ignore him, the young man found himself at a loss and, feeling awkward, poured himself another cup of tea.

Just then, there was a sudden, piercing scream from a woman in the restaurant:

“Somebody, help! Please, someone!”

The shrill cry instantly drew the attention of all the diners.

In the center of the room, a man in white robes lay collapsed on the floor. His eyes were shut, limbs convulsing, foam at his lips, his face deathly pale.

Beside him knelt a frantic woman, shaking his body desperately, her face etched with panic.

Moments later, the restaurant’s waiter rushed over in alarm.

“What happened?”

The woman, tears streaming down her cheeks, wailed, “My husband—he suddenly started convulsing like this, I don’t know why!”

The waiter cursed his luck inwardly—why did this have to happen in his establishment? But after a moment’s thought, he offered, “We don’t have an apothecary or a physician here. But if you can summon the ‘Immortal,’ your husband will surely be safe.”

The woman’s eyes lit up in hope. “Who is this ‘Immortal’?”

A local among the onlookers spoke up, “Who else could it be? He calls himself the Worm-Driving Elder—he’s the benefactor of our Hongyu Village. With his art of driving out insects, he keeps us all safe—a true immortal.”

The woman’s eyes shone even brighter. “Where is he? How can I ask him for help?”

The waiter quickly chimed in, “Today’s your lucky day! The ‘Immortal’ is dining in my restaurant right now.”

Before he finished speaking, a white-haired old man in plain hemp robes slowly descended the stairs from the second floor.

“What is all this commotion about?”

Though the old man’s voice was not loud, it rang through every heart in the room, leaving the crowd awestruck.

The proprietor hurried out from the kitchen, bowed deeply to the old man, and said respectfully, “Immortal, forgive the disturbance. A customer suddenly suffered a seizure and disturbed your meal. We’ll have him thrown out at once so as not to trouble you further.”

Hearing such heartless words, the woman’s heart turned cold. She quickly dropped to her knees and kowtowed. “Please, Immortal, save my husband!”

The white-haired old man swept his gaze around the room, noting that all eyes were fixed on him. He unfastened a cloth pouch from his waist and rebuked the proprietor sternly:

“We cultivators cannot bear to see the sufferings of the mortal world. That is why I descended the mountain, to rid the land of monsters and bring fortune to the people. How could I stand by and do nothing when someone is in peril?”

The proprietor, thus admonished, bowed his head in shame.

Chen Jiu had stopped eating the moment the old man appeared. Even from a distance, he could sense the elder’s overwhelming aura.

This plain-robed elder was a cultivator, and one who had reached the First Floor of Immortality.

Thanks to his celestial sight, Chen Jiu was innately more attuned to spiritual energies, able to discern the presence of a First Floor Immortal.

“Hypocrite,” the well-dressed young man across from Chen Jiu suddenly muttered, a look of contempt in his eyes.

Meanwhile, the old man strode quickly to the collapsed man’s side and knelt down.

The woman sobbed, anxiously watching her husband.

The old man’s eyes flashed as he reached out with lightning speed, pressing his palm to the man’s chest.

“There’s a build-up of alcohol in his system, causing his blood and energy to surge chaotically. If the fumes aren’t drawn out in time, he may die on the spot.”

After a moment, he withdrew his hand.

“Please, Immortal, save my husband! I’m willing to offer gold and silver as thanks!”

The old man scoffed, “Do you take me for someone who wanders the world for wealth? Do not insult me so!”

With that, he slapped his cloth pouch with his left hand, formed a seal with his right, and began to chant softly.

Moments later, the old man pointed at the man’s swelling abdomen and commanded sharply, “Out!”

As his incantation ended, a finger-sized insect, glowing like a tiny ember, flew out from the pouch and landed squarely on the man’s chest.

The old man’s expression remained composed. “Well? Why not enter?”

Amazingly, as if it understood, the insect let out a sharp sound, bit through the man’s skin, and burrowed inside.

The woman and the crowd gasped in horror.

“My husband—!”

The old man reassured them, “Since coming to Hongyu Village, I have saved hundreds. Ask anyone here—have I ever failed?”

The waiter stepped forward, “The Immortal is truly a master. He’s not only cured many villagers but also drove away monsters from Red Jade Mountain. He’s a living Bodhisattva!”

“That’s right! He saved me, too!”

“The Immortal never accepts payment for saving lives. Where else could you find someone so pure and unselfish?”

The locals echoed their agreement.

Just then, the stricken man’s body calmed, his complexion grew rosy, and his limbs relaxed.

Seeing this, the woman let out a breath of relief, overwhelmed with gratitude.

The plain-robed elder’s eyes glinted as he drew the strange insect back out.

But now, the insect had swollen to two or three times its original size, and as it emerged from the man, a strong aroma of wine filled the air.

The man suddenly opened his bloodshot eyes and coughed violently.

The old man, unfazed, tossed a pill casually onto the table. “Give him this, and he’ll recover at once.”

Amid the crowd’s admiration and respect, the old man turned to leave the restaurant.

It was at that moment that the young gentleman sitting opposite Chen Jiu spoke again, louder this time: “Hypocrite.”

This time, his voice was so clear that the old man’s foot halted in mid-step.

A glint of coldness flashed in the old man’s eyes as he turned to look at Chen Jiu’s table.

Chen Jiu was speechless. The old man had just saved a life—hypocrisy or not, it was a good deed. Yet this handsome youth had insulted him out of nowhere, needlessly stirring public anger.

Glancing at the few bites of food left on his plate, Chen Jiu thought helplessly, Well, I won’t be finishing this meal...

Someone in the crowd spoke up angrily, “And who are you to speak so rudely to the Immortal?”

“Exactly! The Immortal saved that man right before our eyes, without taking a single coin. Why do you see it so differently?”

The woman, helping her husband to his feet, turned to the young gentleman and said indignantly, “Sir, you owe my husband’s savior an apology!”

The old man stepped back inside and studied Chen Jiu and the young man intently.

He asked, “May I ask, friend, your name and the reason for your accusation?”

Chen Jiu kept silent, feeling awkward caught between the two.

The handsome youth stood, cupped his hands in greeting, and replied, “I am Su Jiu—just a wandering soul. My words just now were nothing but the truth from my heart...”