Chapter 18: A Sharp Tongue Needs Curbing

Night gradually fell. Zhuang Zhou judged that it was about the right time—Lin Wen would surely be bringing him his dinner by now. Such a gentle, thoughtful, and caring sister was the very model of a virtuous wife and loving mother. What’s more, she was beautiful in a way one never tired of seeing. A fleeting moment of longing flickered through his mind but was quickly suppressed. Right now, he was an empty young master, and he had more pressing matters—like resolving the hidden dangers in his body—before anything else.

He swiftly put his shirt on, unlocked the door to his hospital room, and then lay back down, feigning illness. Before long, the familiar silhouette appeared at his door.

Lin Wen greeted him with a sweet smile, then placed an exquisite lunchbox before him. She said with a smile, “Little Zhuang, I heard you fainted again. Why do you care so little for your health? I brought you dinner from the cafeteria—eat it while it’s hot.”

“Thank you, Sister Lin Wen.”

Zhuang Zhou noticed that her smile held a trace of sorrow, and her sleeve bore a faint damp stain. He knew this shy and kind-hearted girl must have suffered some injustice again, or perhaps had been bullied by someone.

“Sister Lin Wen, did you run into some trouble?” Zhuang Zhou asked as he opened the lunchbox. The food was still warm, with more meat than vegetables. For someone who had always been a loner in his past life, this attentive care was deeply moving—even the Poison Immortal from another world could not remain unaffected.

“No, eat your dinner,” Lin Wen said hurriedly, a flicker of panic in her eyes.

Zhuang Zhou began to eat ravenously, but he had only got halfway through his meal when a swaggering young man burst in. The newcomer had slicked-back hair and a face powdered to perfection. He wore a pink shirt, and was trailed by two bodyguards in suits. He stormed in, threw a glance at Lin Wen, and snarled, “No wonder you’ve been ignoring me these days—you’ve hooked up with another pretty boy, haven’t you?”

“Yuan Li, this is a hospital. What do you think you’re doing?” Lin Wen asked anxiously.

“Bringing him dinner at his bedside, huh? Can’t wait to jump into bed with this pretty boy? You little tramp! Don’t say I didn’t warn you. A month ago, your mother had heart surgery—a forty-thousand bill, all paid by me. And just recently, you said a friend was in a car accident and needed a hundred thousand—I gave you that too. Altogether, your family owes me fifty thousand. Paying your debts is only right, and don’t say I didn’t warn you. Three days. If you can’t pay it back in three days, get ready to sell yourself to repay the debt. Frankly, you’re only worth that much because you’re still untouched. Otherwise, even ten thousand would be too much for you!”

The man spewed filth, his arrogance overflowing.

“Yuan, I—I’ll do my best to pay you back. I just got my three-thousand salary for this month—take it, please. I beg you, just give me a little more time,” Lin Wen pleaded tearfully, clutching a bundle of cash in one hand, the other trembling as she desperately tried to hand the money over.

“Yuan, is it?” Zhuang Zhou had understood everything from Lin Wen’s expression. He knew Lin Wen’s mother had suffered from heart problems since she was young; the surgery should have been done long ago, but money had been the obstacle. Only a month ago, Zhuang Zhou had wondered where Lin Wen had gotten that kind of money. Now he understood. And that friend in the car accident? That was him. During his hospitalization, aside from the three hundred thousand his parents had provided, Lin Wen had covered another hundred thousand—yet she had never mentioned it.

A surge of pain and gratitude rose in Zhuang Zhou’s heart. He lifted his head, staring unwaveringly at Yuan Li, and said with a cold snort, “Watch your mouth. And stop flattering yourself—how could someone like Lin Wen ever be with you?”

“And who do you think you are?” Yuan Li sneered, grabbing Lin Wen by the arm and yanking her off the stool by the bed. “Trying to play the hero? You need the ability for that, you pauper. Get lost—I have no time to deal with the likes of you.”

Zhuang Zhou smiled with easy confidence, sitting up straight and fixing Yuan Li with a cold stare. Inside, flames of anger blazed. The old Zhuang Zhou may have been a loser, but that was the past. Now, with the Poison God's Art awakened, how could he fail to protect those close to him?

“Yuan Li, Zhuang Zhou is my brother—don’t bully him!” Lin Wen cried anxiously. Yuan Li was an unreasonable scoundrel, and with money in hand, he looked down on everyone, especially those without power or wealth. When his arrogance flared, things could end very badly for someone like Zhuang Zhou.

“Brother? Looks to me like you picked up a new boy toy from that city club,” Yuan Li scoffed.

Zhuang Zhou could no longer contain his rage. He knew well the filthy reputation of the city’s notorious “Little Yellow Duck” club—Yuan Li’s words were so vile that even the most patient person would be incensed, let alone Zhuang Zhou.

How convenient. With the Poison God's Art freshly awakened, he was eager to test his power—and Yuan Li was the perfect target.

“With a mouth as foul and poisonous as yours, it needs to be shut,” Zhuang Zhou said coldly, then turned to Lin Wen with gentle assurance. “Don’t worry, Sister Lin Wen. It’s just fifty thousand—I’ll pay it back for you. Yuan Li, I know you’re rich, and I’d be happy to treat you, but my fees are somewhat high—fifty thousand. Are you willing to pay?”

Yuan Li burst into laughter as if he’d heard the funniest joke in the world, doubling over with mirth. “You’d better treat yourself first, doctor—either you’re blind or your brain’s gone. I’m perfectly healthy! Have you gone mad with dreams of being a doctor? If you want to practice, find a cat or a dog!”

He laughed maniacally, clutching his stomach, until he could barely straighten up.

“What a joke. Zhuang Zhou, you really must be brain-damaged. Remember to take your meds! Don’t go sticking your neck out for others unless you’ve got what it takes. Don’t take on porcelain work without diamond tools!” Yuan Li sneered.

The veins stood out on Zhuang Zhou’s forehead. This guy was pushing all his buttons. Diamond tools? Was that a jab at his current state as the “empty young master”?

Though furious, Zhuang Zhou forced a smile. “Yuan Li, you have a filthy mouth—a real sickness. And a sickness needs to be treated.”

His gaze grew colder, all traces of a smile vanishing. “My price is fair—fifty thousand. Think it over. Miss this chance, and next time it’ll be sixty, seventy, maybe even a hundred thousand.”

“Screw you! The only one who’s sick is your whole family!” Yuan Li roared, pointing at Zhuang Zhou. He had just passed a physical—he was perfectly healthy. This bastard must be putting on an act to intimidate him. Well, Yuan Li was not so easily cowed. He met Zhuang Zhou’s gaze with a glare.

Suddenly, Zhuang Zhou smiled.

He reached out and, with swift precision, slapped Yuan Li hard across the face.

The slap rang out crisply, its force unmistakable—a bright red handprint blossomed on Yuan Li’s cheek. This was payback for the earlier insult about “diamond tools.” Yuan Li was stunned; Lin Wen, too, stared in shock, her mouth agape.

A burning pain spread across Yuan Li’s face, twisting his once-handsome features. When had he ever suffered such humiliation?

“You bastard, I’ll beat your teeth out today! Let you know that I—” Yuan Li tried to shout, but the words came out slurred, his lips growing thick and his speech garbled. He had no idea what was happening—his mouth seemed to be growing numb and difficult to move!

Everyone in the room was stunned.

Before their eyes, Yuan Li’s lips began to swell at a visible rate. At first, they were merely thick, but soon enough they puffed up, turning red, then purple, then nearly black. They looked grotesquely like sausage links.

Even his bodyguards couldn’t help but take a step back in horror.

“What are you all standing there for? Get him! Kill him!” Yuan Li tried to shout, but the pain and itching in his lips made his words so mangled that even he could barely understand himself. The sounds pouring from his mouth were like some alien language, his men looking on in bewilderment.

Zhuang Zhou, a wicked smile playing at his lips, helpfully translated, “Your boss says stop standing around and kill me.”

Yuan Li’s lips were now swollen, thick, and red—hanging from his face like twin sausages, more exaggerated and comical than any parody. His right hand trembling, he pointed at Zhuang Zhou, horror in his eyes, unable to utter a single intelligible word.