Chapter 62 Damn It, How Do I Use the Bathroom?

After everyone had left, only Chen Yi, Luo Yan, and Han Wenxue remained in the hospital room.

Chen Yi, feeling deeply aggrieved, turned to Luo Yan and complained, "You people are so stingy! First, it was just a certificate of merit, and now it's an honorary commendation. Sure, it's a bit better, but it's still worth next to nothing. Does this paltry reward truly match the life-threatening contributions I've made for the country and the people?"

Luo Yan rolled her eyes, her cherry-red lips curling in disdain. The sight of her delicate, alluring expression instantly made Chen Yi forget his pain. All he could think about was biting down on those lips to see if they tasted as sweet as they looked.

Martin Luther King Jr., the great hero, had a dream—a dream that his people would one day be free from suffering and discrimination, treated with fairness and equality.

Chen Yi, the shameless trickster of Feng Shui Street, also had a dream—a dream of one day pinning Luo Yan to a bed, indulging in handcuffs, whips, uniforms, and exploring seventy-two positions and eighty-one transformations… thoroughly and without restraint.

Fortunately, Luo Yan was oblivious to the vulgar and depraved thoughts swirling in his mind. Otherwise, her wrath would undoubtedly be fiercer than Han Wenxue's "Mad Tiger Fist."

Even so, she was left speechless by Chen Yi's shameless obsession with money.

"You should count your blessings. The fact that they didn't charge you with excessive self-defense or manslaughter is already a huge favor. Before I came here, the entire bureau was unanimous in their opinion that you should be severely punished. If it weren't for Deputy Minister Xing stepping in personally, just dealing with Ning Fangming alone would've been enough to ruin you. And yet, here you are, still thinking about money. You should be grateful you're still alive."

Chen Yi felt as though the police department was Luo Yan's maternal family, and every time he tried to gain some advantage, this woman—his supposed "wife"—would mock and ridicule him, showing no loyalty to her "husband."

Resigned to his misfortune in meeting such a sharp-tongued woman, Chen Yi quickly changed the subject, scheming his next move. "What's the plan for dealing with the dragon's malice at Weiran Garden? That's not something ordinary people can handle. Honestly, I've never encountered anyone capable of subduing such a force."

As he spoke, Chen Yi couldn't help but recall Zhao Xuetan, the bearded man. The memory of the dragon's aura lingering around him was still vivid in his mind.

Initially, Chen Yi had suspected Zhao Xuetan of being either the instigator or a major accomplice in the creation of the dragon's malice. Yet, unexpectedly, the man had helped him significantly.

Looking back, it seemed more likely that Zhao Xuetan had tried to restore the dragon's malice to its original dragon vein form but had failed in the process, leaving the residual aura clinging to him.

Luo Yan eyed Chen Yi warily. "You always found excuses to avoid helping me before. Why the sudden change of heart? Since when did you become so concerned about the dragon's malice?"

Chen Yi chuckled awkwardly, knowing that his little scheme had been seen through by this woman, whose intelligence could give criminals nightmares. Still, he tried to justify himself. "I'm just worried about you. You'll definitely find someone to deal with it, but if you choose the wrong person, not only will the problem remain unsolved, but it could also backfire and cause even greater trouble."

Luo Yan could tell that his words were seventy percent nonsense and thirty percent truth. His real motive was clearly to make a fortune off this situation. Yet, her heart was still warmed by the thought that he cared about her. "The provincial department has already contacted a professor from East China University. He's an expert in Yi studies and is already on his way. You don't need to concern yourself with it."

"Could it be Professor Liu Dajun?" Chen Yi asked in surprise.

"Oh? How do you know?" Luo Yan looked puzzled.

"How could I not know? Professor Liu Dajun is the only sociologist at East China University without a formal degree. He was also the first president of the Chinese Yi Studies Association and has unparalleled expertise. I've always admired him but never had the chance to meet him."

Chen Yi spoke with genuine admiration. He held deep respect for the elderly scholar, whose path in Yi studies had been far more arduous than his own. During the chaotic years of upheaval, Liu Dajun had been publicly denounced and paraded for his research in Yi studies, with his manuscripts and books burned to ashes. Later, he had moved to Quancheng, where he worked as a porter and odd-job laborer.

Yet, despite his hardships, he never gave up on his research. His perseverance finally paid off in his forties, when he became a sociologist and began teaching at East China University. His unwavering dedication to the Yi Dao was something Chen Yi could only aspire to emulate.

If Liu Dajun were to handle the dragon's malice, Chen Yi doubted there would be any need for his own involvement. Moreover, given the man's character and social standing, he certainly wouldn't demand exorbitant fees—or perhaps even any payment at all.

Han Wenxue, who had been quietly listening to their conversation, was intrigued. It was rare to hear Chen Yi, a self-proclaimed master, speak so highly of someone else. Unable to resist, she interjected, "Is he really better than you?"

By now, Han Wenxue had been thoroughly "poisoned" by Chen Yi. It was hard for her to believe that anyone could surpass him. After all, Chen Yi had defied fate, used divination to save her in a crisis, and single-handedly ventured into danger, vanquishing formidable foes in the blink of an eye.

If someone truly surpassed him, they could only be the kind of legendary heroes found in novels and TV dramas—those who wielded ultimate techniques like the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms or the Six Meridian Sword. And even then, they might not be able to tell fortunes.

Chen Yi chuckled, for once refraining from disparaging a peer. "When it comes to divination and Feng Shui, I'm not sure. But in terms of Yi studies, he's miles ahead of me. Let me put it this way: if the average person is walking on flat ground, I'm standing on the second floor of a building, while Professor Liu is atop a skyscraper, far above me. Of course, there are also those mythical figures who stand on the peaks of mountains, overlooking all of humanity. But they exist only in legends; whether any still exist today is unknown."

Although his explanation was clear and his analogy apt, Han Wenxue still found it somewhat confusing. "Aren't divination, Feng Shui, and Yi studies all the same thing?"

"Divination and Feng Shui are branches derived from Yi studies. They represent only one aspect and cannot encompass the whole. They are techniques, while Yi studies is the Dao. No matter how advanced a technique becomes, it can only approach the Dao but never fully equate to it. It's like the relationship between soil and the Earth. No matter how much soil there is, it can only form continents. Without other elements, it can never become a world capable of nurturing life. Even if it grows to the size of a planet, it still cannot sustain life."

Han Wenxue finally grasped the general idea, though her understanding of Feng Shui, divination, and Yi studies remained hazy. She chose not to delve further—such matters were best left to "charlatans" like Chen Yi. Instead, she grew curious about those mythical figures who stood atop the mountains, overlooking all. Their existence sounded like something out of a fantastical myth, and she eagerly asked for more details.

Luo Yan, too, was intrigued. Hearing such stories as entertainment was always enjoyable, so she joined in urging Chen Yi to elaborate.

The two women—a police academy graduate and a top student from a prestigious foreign university—had always made Chen Yi, a semi-literate man with little formal education, feel inferior. He had initially planned to tease them, playing coy to build suspense before presenting himself as a learned scholar like Liu Dajun. But before he could finish his act, their contrasting reactions—one coquettish, the other icy—completely disarmed him. The poor virgin stood no chance against such a combination and quickly surrendered.

"If we're talking about legendary figures, there are plenty," Chen Yi began. "Fuxi, the Green Emperor, the Yellow Emperor Xuanyuan, Laozi Zhou Er, King Wen of Zhou, Xu Fu, the alchemist by Emperor Qin Shi Huang's side, Zhuge Liang, Yuan Tiangang, Liu Bowen, Yang Yungong, Pu Songling, the White Lotus Holy Mother…"

Han Wenxue and Luo Yan finally understood what it meant to be a true charlatan. Though Chen Yi lay on the bed, unable to move his limbs and resembling a paraplegic patient, his words alone were enough to captivate them, making them yearn for a time machine to travel back to those ancient eras.

Had there been a bowl in front of him, the two women might have emptied their wallets, showering him with cash as though he were a street performer.

After dinner, served by Han Wenxue and Luo Yan, the two women returned with snacks and sat by Chen Yi's bedside, eager for him to continue his tales.

"Come on, tell us about Li Jing, Red Whisk, and the Bearded Guest. What happened in their love triangle? Did Red Whisk end up with Li Jing? I think he's the better choice—refined and scholarly," Han Wenxue said.

"I disagree. She's better suited to the Bearded Guest. A remarkable woman paired with a chivalrous hero, wandering the world together, witnessing blooming flowers at dawn and sunsets at dusk—it's so poetic and romantic," Luo Yan countered.

What began as a lesson in ancient history somehow devolved into a melodramatic Korean drama, drenched in clichés.

"Why did you stop?" Luo Yan urged impatiently.

"Are you thirsty? I'll get you some water," Han Wenxue offered, pouring cooled water into a cup and holding it to Chen Yi's lips with a straw.

While the two women were utterly engrossed, Chen Yi suddenly fell silent, leaving them both anxious and restless.

"Uh, can I ask for a favor first?" Chen Yi asked awkwardly, his face flushed.

"What is it? Just say it!" the two women replied in unison, their expressions eager.

"Well… I need to use the bathroom. I've been holding it in all afternoon, and I can't take it anymore," Chen Yi admitted, his face as red as a roasted piglet.

He had indeed been suppressing the urge for hours, too embarrassed to say anything with two young women present. But any longer, and he feared he might make headlines as the first man to die from holding in his urine.

"What? You need to use the bathroom? Uh… Wenxue, you're better at taking care of people. You help him," Luo Yan said, completely abandoning her earlier vow to repay him for life. She turned and fled without a second thought.

Han Wenxue's face turned crimson. "You can fight, but you can't go to the bathroom by yourself? Oh, right, I forgot to buy your dinner for tonight. The cafeteria might be closing soon. I'll go check!"

Han Wenxue wasn't much better than Luo Yan. With a swoosh, she disappeared after her.

"Ungrateful wolves! Shameless women! Cowards!"

Chen Yi cursed them both, but his words fell on deaf ears. Gritting his teeth, drenched in cold sweat, he hobbled into the bathroom on his own.

Moments later, Chen Yi began to cry—real, heartfelt tears.

The pain had caused his muscles to tense up so much that he couldn't relieve himself at all.

"D*mn it, what am I supposed to do now?"

Chen Yi looked up at the ceiling and wailed, collapsing in despair on the bathroom floor.