Qingniu Mountain, China.
Chen Xinan knelt before his master, tears streaming down his face.
"Please, Master! Don't make me leave the mountain! I still want to stay a few more years to honor you! I'm only twenty-three—I'm not ready to get married!"
The elderly Taoist, his hair streaked with white, lounged in a recliner, sipping from a gourd of wine. With a flick of his leg, he scolded, "You're a man! Who said you have to marry anyone? I found you a wife as beautiful as a flower—just go enjoy her!"
Chen Xinan's anger flared. "You ancient ghost! You know I'm a man, yet you want me to become a son-in-law who moves into someone else's house?!"
"I'm doing this for your own good," the old man said, rising and patting Chen Xinan's shoulder with a serious expression. "The Ning family's daughter is a rare gem, a perfect match for a pure yang man like you! I've worked hard to arrange this union—"
Chen Xinan interrupted, narrowing his eyes. "I heard you accepted twenty jars of Ning family vintage liquor to agree to this marriage?"
The master's face fell. "What nonsense is this? Chen Xinan, do you really think I'd sell you for twenty jars of wine?"
"Exactly that!" Chen Xinan didn't hesitate. This old man would do anything for wine—selling a disciple was nothing.
The master coughed in indignation. "You're wrong! I once read your fortune: Ning Xiru is your fated partner…"
Chen Xinan cut him off, furious. "You read fortunes my ass! I am not becoming a son-in-law! Forget it! Besides, I'm a monk—how could I marry?"
The old man gave him a sidelong glance. "A monk? You? I, Yao Zhifeng, have practiced Taoism for forty years. My disciples have become monks, and you call that an excuse? Who ordained you?"
Chen Xinan rolled his eyes. "If I'm not a monk, then why have you shaved my head since I was a child?"
The old man snorted. "I wanted to give you curls! But do I know how? This way's easier—saves water, electricity, lightbulbs. Looks neat, doesn't it?"
"Old ghost… there's no way to negotiate, huh?" Chen Xinan stood, ready to fight if necessary. It seemed the master was determined to push him down the mountain.
The old man nodded. "I've even bought your train ticket. You'll leave for Dongshan City today—Ning Xiru herself will meet you at the station. Tomorrow, you two will register your marriage. No backing out! And just so you know, about that cable car accident eighteen years ago—the Ning family may have known something!"
Chen Xinan froze, his face going slack. He sighed weakly: "Fine… I'll go down the mountain."
The master's joy was palpable—finally, the boy had been convinced, and the twenty jars of Ning family vintage liquor were his fair gain. These were premium bottles reserved for state banquets, each worth over five thousand yuan.
A sudden stomach cramp hit, and the old man groaned. Chen Xinan grinned. "Old ghost, you're making me a son-in-law. I brewed you some black bat tonic soup—see how filial your disciple is? Hurry to the toilet before you soil yourself! I'll be back to visit you, don't worry!"
"Get out! Never come back! Ungrateful brat!" the master shouted as he rushed to the toilet, finally finding relief.
Indeed, Chen Xinan had managed to collect black bat urine from the mountain cliff that even goats couldn't reach, turned it into a potent poison, and slipped it into wine—outsmarting his master in both martial arts and medicine. It was time he left the mountain.
But when the master reached for toilet paper, his face darkened—the basket held jagged grass instead.
"Chen Xinan!"
A roar of anger echoed across Qingniu Mountain.
When Chen Xinan was seven, his parents had taken him to Qingniu Mountain. A cable car accident left him dangling from a tree—his parents died instantly, but he survived, saved by his master. He had lived in the mountains for sixteen years.
Perhaps because of that trauma, he had few memories before age seven, leaving him unfamiliar with the city of his birth.
At the station, someone was waiting for him. A plump young woman held a sign with his name. Could she be Ning Xiru?
The master's eye for talent was apparently good—the woman looked well-built for childbearing.
"You're Chen Xinan?" she asked, pointing to the sign and then herself, jaw nearly dropping. This guy looked so… rustic.
Chen Xinan, smiling awkwardly, said, "If the old man had told me you looked like this, I wouldn't have messed with him. But marriage is important, so I think we should get to know each other a bit first. What do you think, Ning Xiru?"
The woman's face darkened. She was Ning Xiru's secretary, Xiao Zhou. "She couldn't possibly come herself. She's waiting at the parking lot—follow me."
A red Lexus arrived at the station. Out stepped a woman in a rose-red gown, her features flawless, her skin pale as snow, eyes bright and commanding. In an instant, the crowd's attention was drawn entirely to her.
"That… is Ning Xiru? My goddess!"
"No, she's the goddess of all men in Dongshan City!"
Before anyone could approach, a young man in a designer suit slapped and kicked someone who got too close. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Scram!"
The man cowered and apologized profusely. The young man—Lin Shuai—was well-known in Dongshan City: rich, powerful, untouchable.
Ning Xiru frowned at him, irritated. "What are you doing here?!"
Lin Shuai smiled. "I heard you were meeting someone yourself. I wanted to see who was so important!"
Ning Xiru barely had time to respond when Chen Xinan, the so-called groom, looked at her with disgust.
"You're Ning Xiru? I'm supposed to marry you? No chest, no curves—forget it! I'm calling off the engagement!"