First-Year Internship—And You Went to Site 749 to Contain Monsters?!
Chapter 269: Two Apes Chop Wood in the Deep Mountains, and a Little Monkey Dares to Respond?

......

Lu Ding smiled.

Half out of joy, half out of speechlessness.

He handed out bowls and chopsticks, poured the wine.

However long the good times last, you enjoy them while you can.

As soon as Bai Hemen sat down—

His eyes darted straight to the wine bottle.

Thinking about the last time he drank too much, Lu Ding hesitated to let him drink.

But it was a holiday today.

Lu Ding had gone to some trouble to find this.

What, you thought he was cultivating the past three days?

No, no, no.

He spent all three days hunting down ingredients and brewing liquor.

Finally getting a chance to celebrate a lively festival in this world—

He had to make it count.

The three of them clinked glasses and started eating and drinking.

Meanwhile—

Some rejoiced, some grieved.

Back at that same cliff, the Crooked-Mouthed Slanted-Eyed Daoist was still stuck there.

"Aiyoo~ can’t do it~ I can’t get out, it hurts like h*ll, someone save this old Daoist..."

Three days.

He’d been physically jammed there for three whole days!

The Heavenly Grandpa’s basic attack wasn’t something easy to recover from.

It took a centuries-old, deeply cultivated elder like him and beat him down to worse than an ordinary person.

The fact that he wasn’t dead—well, chalk that up to his ridiculous luck, skill, and sturdy bones.

And that luck? All in that crooked mouth and slanted eyes.

The Daoist pulled out a cell phone.

Sure, it clashed with the setting a bit.

But—

The man came out to inspect things once a year. Over the years, he’d witnessed the progress of technology.

What’s wrong with using a phone?

He even had electricity in his underground palace.

The phone was there—

But he didn’t know who to call for help.

A guy like him, who avoided the passage of time, hated getting too entangled with others.

Avoid karma, avoid the world.

Rubbing the phone, he pondered, "Should I call the Security Management Bureau for help?"

"But how do I even explain this?"

"Heaven’s really out to get me. Got a phone I can’t even use—it’s not even as good as burning a talisman to send a message, seriously.....eh!"

Speaking of the phone—

The Crooked-Mouthed Slanted-Eyed Daoist suddenly remembered something.

He usually avoided karma.

But once, he ran into a very, very promising kid.

Full of spiritual potential.

Didn’t formally take him in, just casually pointed out a few things and left him two books.

As payment, he didn’t take money—just asked the kid to buy him a phone.

They even exchanged numbers at the time.

"Wonder if the number still works."

"You’re the last shred of worldly ties this old Daoist has—please pick up... or else I’ll really have to call Security."

He opened his contacts.

It had only been a few years.

He hoped the kid hadn’t changed numbers.

Originally, the Crooked-Mouthed Daoist figured he’d achieve something within the decade.

If he succeeded,

He’d go find that last wisp of worldly smoke and fire,

And maybe take a disciple.

Didn’t all the ancestral masters before him have disciples?

If he made it, he’d be a founder too. He ought to have one.

Centuries had gone by with no successor—so what if he had one now?

But who knew, he hadn’t even succeeded yet, and already he was calling people for help. Not even a dramatic revelation—just a phone call!!!

He was such a powerful cultivator! A Heaven Observer Realm! And he had to make a phone call!!

Aiyoo, he was so pissed he could barely take it.

His mind was in complete turmoil.

......

Shift the view back to Yunhai.

In the courtyard.

Bai Hemen was drunk.

Under the bright moonlight: "Elder Deng, I read in old books that ancient people recited poetry under the moon. Let’s follow tradition—your turn first."

Elder Deng looked at his face, red as a monkey’s butt from the booze.

He smiled, "I’m not good at reciting poetry. How about this—I give you a line, and you try to respond."

Bai Hemen nodded: "Sure!"

Lu Ding just watched.

Sigh, definitely drunk.

Elder Deng’s eyes glinted with mischief, and with a chuckle, he said: "Two apes chop wood in the deep mountains—what, the little monkey dares to respond?"

Lu Ding: ???

Why was I dragged into this too?

You really are the model of fairness—I haven’t even said a word!

Bai Hemen forgot that Lu Ding had said only one glass.

He helped himself to another.

"Isn’t this easy!?"

He opened his mouth, slurred from drinking, and blurted: "A horse gets stuck in the muddy swamp, old... wuwuwuwuwuwu......"

Lu Ding, with the reflexes of a hawk, rushed in and manually muted him.

Grabbed his lips: "Hey hey hey, that’s not how you match lines."

"HahahaHAHAHAHAHA......."

Elder Deng was laughing beside them.

Although Bai Hemen didn’t finish the rest—

He could already guess what it was.

But it didn’t matter, he didn’t mind.

That was just his personality.

Suddenly—

The cheerful mood was interrupted by the ringing of a phone.

Lu Ding pulled out his cell.

The caller ID showed someone he hadn’t forgotten, but didn’t expect either.

【Uncle Crooked Mouth】

At that moment—

Lu Ding’s mind was instantly pulled back to a few years ago.

Back then, he was still young.

His golden finger hadn’t activated yet.

But to prepare for when it would, Lu Ding had thrown himself into learning all kinds of metaphysical knowledge.

This stuff wasn’t something you could just read about in books.

You had to get someone to explain it to you—or watch and listen to others.

So Lu Ding went under the overpass.

There were plenty of fortune-tellers there. He didn’t get readings himself—just listened. Listened only, trying to learn a bit here and there.

The way they talked and chanted was like crosstalk, and now and then you’d hear some juicy gossip.

Totally fascinating.

Most of them were amateurs, but when it came to certain formulas and incantations, they could really talk the talk.

It all came down to comprehension and talent.

Take things like Six Yao, Plum Blossom Divination, the Nine Palaces and Eight Trigrams, this and that—you could find tons of info online.

And it was legit.

It just didn’t include the core secrets, but the beginner-level material was 100% authentic.

Some even had tutorials.

But whether they were real or not—that was up to you to judge.

Even if you found a real one, that didn’t mean you’d be able to learn it.

It all depended on talent.

Then—

Lu Ding ran into an old man with the best appearance of the lot.

He was the very image of a Daoist immortal, with white hair and a youthful face.

He really looked the part.

At least in terms of appearance, he looked way more legit than the others.

Lu Ding stared at him. He stared back.

The two locked eyes.

Then the old man said Lu Ding had a full and bright forehead, deep spiritual roots, and would become someone great in the future.

The only flaw—his bone structure was too average, holding him back.

Then he insisted on giving Lu Ding a reading.

As he chanted the incantations, his mouth started to twist, and his gaze went crooked.

That’s when Lu Ding realized—this guy had real skills.

You always know your own situation. Carrying a golden finger on your back—that’s not something just anyone can read.

Even if his birth chart looked ordinary, just the fact that he carried a golden finger—

If you wrote down his birth chart, it could chop down trees—so solid it was off the charts.

And you’d never even find the source of that strength.

Like a computer program full of bugs that somehow still runs. Where’s the logic in that?

So if this guy could find the “bug,” whether or not he could fix it, at least he had the real ability to earn his living from this craft.

A world apart from all the fakes.

Lu Ding started trying to stop him: "Don’t read anymore, don’t read."

But the old man was stubborn.

"By the boundless virtue of the Celestial Lord—let’s read, let’s read."

Then his mouth twisted into a Nike swoosh and his eyes split—one standing guard, one on patrol.