Chapter 2910 — The Legend of Two People (Part 2)

Fortunately, however, Lin Dongfang did not appear to mean to wash his hands of the matter and walk away.

"That is your problem," Lin Dongfang said flatly.

"Yes, yes!" Tu Wanghai said no more of such things, and instead looked at Lin Dongfang with some anxiety: "Then... my granddaughter's condition?"

"She is a patient; the mad dog is a mad dog. Since I sit here and take patients, there is no reason to ignore her." Lin Dongfang drew a clear line between gratitude and grievance: "That said, I have already given the treatment plan. Either she stays with me, and I guarantee she lives to fifteen, or you take her away—she likely will not last even to next year!"

"This..." Tu Wanghai was immediately caught in a dilemma. To leave Tu Ranran here alone—he could not set his mind at ease. Tu Ranran was only two years old, understood nothing, remembered nothing...

And Tu Wanghai was the sect master of the Yellow Earth High Sect; naturally it was impossible for him to leave the sect and stay here with Tu Ranran all the time!

But if he did not agree, Tu Ranran might wither away and die. Tu Wanghai felt that Lin Dongfang was not making alarmist remarks, for many doctors had examined her and all had said Tu Ranran would not live past three. So Tu Wanghai found the choice exceedingly difficult.

"Old man, shall I cast a divination for you? Very cheap—only a million." Just as Tu Wanghai hesitated, a voice suddenly sounded beside him and startled him. He spun around and saw, at the stall adjacent to Lin Dongfang's medicine stand, a fortune-teller dressed in Daoist robes!

This man in Daoist attire had a very simple stall, with only a small banner above it that read: "Ancestral Fortune-Telling—Refund If Inaccurate, Only One Hundred!"

Seeing that the banner said only one hundred, Tu Wanghai was at once somewhat annoyed: "Do you take me for an illiterate? Only one hundred, and you want a million from me?"

"Different people, different prices. If you do not want a reading, fine—just do not regret it," the fortune-teller in Daoist robes said with a shake of his head, utterly unconcerned.

"Only a ghost would believe you!" Tu Wanghai snorted and turned away, paying him no more mind.

At any other time he would certainly have taught this profiteering swindler a lesson, but today he was in no mood, nor did he wish to stir up trouble.

"You are quite right—ghosts believe me too," the Daoist fortune-teller said with a nod.

But Tu Wanghai paid him no attention, pretending not to have heard, and took the Daoist fortune-teller for an ordinary charlatan of the jianghu.

Just then, however, a peasant who looked like an old farmer came over to the fortune-teller's stand, respectfully handed up a hundred-yuan note, and asked piously: "Mr. Mo, if I may ask, when will there be heavy rain? The melons in my field are about to die of drought. If there is no heavy rain within a month, I will take my son and daughter-in-law to find work elsewhere and give up the family melon field! Please give me some advice!"

"Go on back—there will be rain today!" The fortune-teller, addressed as Mr. Mo, did not even bother to count on his fingers, but spoke at once.

"Ah? Rain today? Wonderful, wonderful—I will go back and wait for it right now!" the farmer said, thanking him profusely.

"You are welcome." This Mr. Mo was, of course, Mo Kongwu, Lin Dongfang's friend of many years.

"Ha! What a colossal joke!" Tu Wanghai, vexed and unable to decide what to do, heard this enormous "swindle" taking place beside him and at once found an outlet: "Rain today? Rain in this clear blue sky? Do you think you are a weather forecast? Rain from a clear sky to drench a turtle? Old farmer, you have been cheated!"

"You dumb ass, 'drench a turtle'—it will drench you in a moment!" The farmer gave Tu Wanghai a look of contempt, curled his lip, and turned and left.

"You... you do not know good from bad!" Tu Wanghai was furious, but as a cultivator of the ancient tier, how could he stoop to quarrel with an old farmer? He could only shake his head in gloom.

"You... you do not know good from bad!" Tu Wanghai was furious, but as a cultivator of the ancient tier, how could he stoop to quarrel with an old farmer? He could only shake his head in gloom, displeased that this fortune-teller was profiting from another's misfortune, and all the more sorry for the old farmer's foolishness.

But at that very moment, in the clear sky there suddenly came a thunderous "boom," followed by a flash of lightning, and then a torrential rain came pouring down from the heavens, drenching Tu Wanghai to the bone!

Yet at this instant Tu Wanghai did not feel unlucky at being soaked. Deep in his heart was profound shock! He turned his head and stared in disbelief at Mo Kongwu, calm and composed at the fortune-telling stand, and suddenly understood: "Sir, forgive me—this old man was rude before..."

"You are not even older than I am; there is no need to play the venerable elder before me," Mo Kongwu said mildly. "As for rude or not rude, there is nothing to speak of. You are not my customer; say whatever you like!"

Tu Wanghai was a Heaven Rank cultivator, and he did not believe Mo Kongwu had been practicing any trick. This torrential rain had fallen without the slightest warning—even he had not sensed it before it came. It seemed this Mo Kongwu truly had some skill.

So Tu Wanghai at once became incomparably respectful: "Senior, then in your view... what should I do now..."

Mo Kongwu stretched out his hand and held up one finger.

"Tu Qingshui, get out here!" Tu Wanghai turned toward the rubbish heap: "Do not play dead! You will be punished when we get back!"

"Yes... Sect Master..." Receiving the order, Tu Qingshui hastily crawled out of the rubbish heap and came over cautiously. Two rotten cabbage leaves still clung to his head, and with the rain he was soaked through like a drowned rat—as bedraggled as could be!

"Give me the checkbook!" Tu Wanghai said.

"Yes!" Tu Qingshui hurriedly dug the checkbook out of his pack and handed it to Tu Wanghai.

Without another word, Tu Wanghai wrote out a check for one million and handed it to Mo Kongwu: "Senior, what do you think..."

"If you entrust your granddaughter to Old Man Wei for treatment, then I can guarantee that your granddaughter will not only not die at three, she will not die at fifteen either..." Mo Kongwu accepted the check outright and then said breezily: "Moreover, she will live a long life and bring blessing upon your entire sect!"

At first, hearing Mo Kongwu's opening words, Tu Wanghai wanted to say, is that not just empty talk? If I leave my granddaughter here, Doctor Lin can already guarantee she will not die before fifteen—what need have I of your guarantee? But the words that followed moved him somewhat: a long life, and blessing upon the sect?