Chapter 92 Part 2
Wu Heng took the clothes and went to change. A dark blue traditional outfit, padded with goose down by Mother Zhou.
Downstairs, guests had already arrived, chatting and warming themselves by the fire.
Fan Tu, dozing off, woke up instantly seeing him, “Doctor Wu, you look even more handsome now!”
Zhou Mingze and his girlfriend also came over. “Doctor Wu, happy birthday!”
Wu Heng knew he had been betrayed by his own son, the flower on his head, the green hat, but he had been told he would find true love again.
He looked at the elegant woman, well-maintained despite being forty, and smiled. “Thank you.”
Yuan Song, sitting with the university students, eating oranges by the fire, they stood up and presented their gifts. “Doctor Wu, Wang Lang’s wife gave birth, so he asked me to give you this. Happy birthday.”
Yuan Song then handed him a white box. “This is from Tang Xueshan, my girlfriend, hopefully you’ll like it.”
Wu Heng opened it, paper effigies again, a 98k rifle, probably from Yang Xing’s shop…
He gave it to Da Bai to take to the storeroom.
Zhang Da Yong and his wife were holding and weighing Su Da Yi, discussing, “Seems like it lost some weight, Doctor Wu’s medicine works.”
Su Da Yi preened, asking how Hei Tan was.
Zhang Da Yong, seeing him emerge, awkwardly presented his gift, just a simple one from a farming family, Wu Heng didn’t mind, he never did.
“Doctor Wu, happy birthday, Hei Tan’s… mother… hasn’t given birth yet, but it should be this week, the checkup was normal.”
Professor Zhao, busy with a classified project, couldn’t attend, but he had someone deliver a gift.
From Jiaming High School, Xie Zhi, Wang Pengzheng, their parents, they had all come early.
Everyone remembered his birthday.
The village chief had arrived early and was discussing with Wu Su about using the neighbors’ courtyards for the banquet if necessary.
“Some Daoist priests are here,” a guest said, seeing the figures in Taoist robes, an elderly man with a wooden hairpin in his long hair.
“Master, Senior Sister, Senior Brother, Junior Brother, you’re finally here!” Chen Zhao, excitedly greeting them.
The old man glared at him and, with his disciples, bowed formally, “Doctor Wu, greetings from the Xuanmen, and congratulations on your coming-of-age.”
Coming-of-age ceremonies were important, especially for practitioners, adulthood marked increased power.
“Xuanmen… the Xuanmen, right? Their website is always crashing!”
“Everyone saw Old Doctor Wu’s press conference, that vaccine was developed by him, along with other medical experts and Taoist doctors from the Xuanmen.”
“They truly have a unique aura, that old man, a master, can we buy talismans from him?”
Some, observing their patched robes with respect, “True masters, indifferent to worldly possessions. Who wouldn’t care about appearances these days, especially at a banquet? Only those with true inner strength.”
The other guests nodded approvingly, their gazes filled with respect.
Doctor Wu Heng was amazing, but there were other skilled practitioners too, worthy of respect, and the Xuanmen, after all, officially recognized.
Chen Zhao knew them too well, even his Senior Sister, normally a goofball, would put on a serious act, and his master, oh, the burden of being a Taoist priest.
He led them to a table in the corner, away from the curious crowd.
“Wow, Uncle Master, what a feast! Over a hundred tables! And it’s a running banquet, multiple rounds, we’re going to eat well,” the Daoist nun, her face expressionless, said, her excitement evident, the tables even lining the streets.
Chengde Medical Clinic welcomed everyone, a grand celebration, even the other villages were invited.
The elderly Daoist priest, glancing at her, said disapprovingly, “So shallow.” Then he asked someone to peel an orange for him.
Chen Zhao sidled up and said excitedly, “Master, your side hustle is going so well, when are we leaving the Xuanmen? How about after Doctor Wu’s birthday banquet? Let’s just stay here.”
The old man ignored him, eating the orange segments and studying his new clothes, and said, “How much for your down jacket?”
Chen Zhao immediately halved the price, “Two thousand.”
The old man looked at him, “Take it off, let me try it on.”
Chen Zhao protectively clutched his jacket, “Master, this… This style is for young people…”
The old man, unmoved, “I’m young at heart.”
Seeing everyone watching, Chen Zhao, cursing inwardly, reluctantly took it off.
The old man immediately put it on, feeling the warmth, the wind blocked effectively. Although slightly large, he declared, “It fits! Mine now. Consider it your filial piety payment.”
So much for “indifferent to worldly possessions,” he simply couldn’t afford expensive down jackets.
“No wonder Doctor Wu had the students give Teacher Zhou offerings, the student-teacher bond is like father and son!” The guests, sipping their drinks, observing this scene, remarked.
Chen Zhao gritted his teeth, he had other jackets, but he had intentionally worn his old, patched ones.
“Master, about joining Doctor Wu’s sect…” he pressed.
Look at this life! Compared to his previous one!
The old man, calmly sipping his tea, said, his voice indifferent, “Forget it, not possible. After Doctor Wu’s birthday, we’re returning to Xuanmen.”
“With all these evil creatures around, it’s our duty to serve the people. Stop with your nonsense.”
The old man sighed, having learned about Xuanmen’s financial situation through eavesdropping, he finally understood the difference between their internal and the real world’s economy.
Chen Zhao didn’t understand. He had agreed earlier, why the change of heart?
And following Wu Heng didn’t mean not serving the people! All those patients with strange illnesses!
“Chen Zhao, don’t bother your master,” the Daoist nun, cracking sunflower seeds, said. “Leaving requires approval, not just from the leadership, but our ancestors. No signature, no approval.”
“We’re just poor. Eventually… you get used to it,” she added.
Every family honored their ancestors. The Xuanmen had a statue of their founder, reportedly created after his ascension.
Chen Zhao still didn’t understand. “Did you… draw a bad lot, Master?”
Xuanmen was a small sect under the Daoist umbrella, later rising to prominence under their founder, who had ascended almost a millennium ago, reincarnated countless times by now!
He could still control them? He was skeptical.
He lowered his voice, exasperated, “Master, why are you so honest?! Don’t you understand probability? Try again! Three or four more times!”
The old man replied, “I drew nine times.”
Chen Zhao: “… I’ll be quiet then.”
