Chapter 80: The Scripts of Journey to the West and Investiture of the Gods Have Become Tangled

In the evening, the purple mist over the farmstead suddenly thickened, enveloping the land in a strange haze. Tang Ao, who had just awoken from a nap, along with Dr. Zhou and his companions, were stunned by the sight of this dense, eerie fog.

“Doctor, look at the manor! How did such bizarre mist come about?” Tang Ao exclaimed.

Dr. Zhou shook his head, bewildered. “I... I have no idea. It’s truly uncanny.”

Yet, stranger things were afoot. After their initial shock, Tang Ao and Dr. Zhou intended to venture out and investigate, but at that very moment, everything around them froze in place, themselves included.

The opening of the Gate of Immortals was abrupt and unexpected.

King Zhou appeared, no longer alone, but accompanied by Su Hu and another figure—Bi Gan.

Previously, King Zhou had brought back a large quantity of sacred crops—sweet potatoes, potatoes, and the like—from the farmstead, astonishing the entire city of Chaoge. After a series of reforms, the crops were sown and successfully promoted throughout the nation.

With the land reforms completed, the ministers finally had leisure to press the king about his extraordinary encounter. Where had he obtained these divine crops? What adventures had he experienced?

Eventually, pressed by their curiosity, King Zhou confessed: he had passed through a mysterious gate and met a sage of the immortal realm, who gifted him these miraculous crops.

The ministers were skeptical—how could such fantastic events be true? But when the Gate of Immortals opened again, King Zhou led his ministers, allowing any with sufficient fate to pass through. In the end, only Bi Gan succeeded.

“Your Majesty, is this the mysterious manor you mentioned before? It’s astonishing!” Bi Gan said, deeply shaken by the uncanny sights surrounding him.

“Yes, Uncle. This place is like a paradise on earth. Have I deceived you? I told you before, and you wouldn’t believe. Now that you’ve seen it yourself, surely you must believe?” King Zhou replied cheerfully.

“Come, let’s go find the master.”

As it happened to be dinner time, King Zhou, Su Hu, and Bi Gan entered the main hall, just as Chu Xiaoyu and his companions were gathered around a steaming hotpot.

Perfect timing—not too early, not too late.

“Master!” King Zhou greeted with respectful ceremony.

“Oh? It’s you? Looks like we have a new face among us. Come, sit down—more people, more merriment,” Chu Xiaoyu invited them warmly, as if welcoming old friends. At his request, Su Daji set out bowls and chopsticks for them.

---

“Father!” Su Daji called to Su Hu.

Su Hu felt a pang in his chest. Alas! No matter how things stood, that body was still his daughter’s—even if that dreadful fox spirit had possessed her, his heart could never leap that hurdle.

Su Hu merely grunted and ignored Su Daji.

“Master, let me introduce you. This is my royal uncle, Bi Gan,” King Zhou explained, gesturing to Bi Gan.

Chu Xiaoyu looked surprised. “Ah... So you’re Bi Gan, the one whose heart was cut out? A pleasure to meet you.”

His offhand remark stunned everyone at the table. Bi Gan, especially, was bewildered by the presence of a monkey, a bull-headed man with horns, and Iron Fan, among others.

The tableware, the ingredients—everything was strange and wondrous, things none of them had ever seen.

All the guests were astonished.

“Master, you said Bi Gan’s heart was cut out? What do you mean by that?” King Zhou asked in shock.

“Ahem... Sorry, you misheard me. Come, everyone, dig in while it’s hot,” Chu Xiaoyu laughed, trying to brush off the topic.

The story of Bi Gan’s missing heart seemed irrelevant now. Su Daji was confined to the manor, and even if Bi Gan burned the fox spirit’s lair to ashes, he could rest easy.

“Your Majesty, is this edible?” Bi Gan asked, eyeing the food.

“Well... This is my first time, too,” King Zhou admitted.

The hotpot bubbled and steamed, filled with fresh ingredients. Instead of grabbing food with their hands, everyone used two wooden sticks—chopsticks—to pick up their meal. King Zhou, Su Hu, and Bi Gan were wide-eyed throughout, clearly startled.

“Why aren’t you eating? Don’t like the taste?” someone asked. “I heard from Master that your dynasty is only the second ever established. No wonder you’re so conservative about new things.”

Sun Wukong’s words left King Zhou, Su Hu, and Bi Gan exchanging uncertain glances. A furry monkey, speaking fluent human language?

A monkey had attained spirit!

Absolutely alarming.

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“Fan, show them how to eat the food,” someone suggested.

Facing such a group of old-timers, she had no choice but to demonstrate the eating method. Whether they could adapt and learn depended on their mental flexibility.

“Come, gentlemen, let me show you. This is called hotpot, or ‘bianlu’—it comes in spicy and non-spicy varieties. You’ve already collected plenty of chili peppers last time, so I won’t explain further.”

“This is lamb, this is fish balls, and...”

The three bewildered men quickly understood after Iron Fan’s demonstration. Eating could be so elegant? So classy?

Extraordinary!

What followed was a hilarious spectacle—a competition for food.

King Zhou, Su Hu, and Bi Gan, hailing from the ancient Shang dynasty thousands of years ago, were experiencing hotpot for the first time. The fresh ingredients, flavorful dipping sauces, and the strange, delicious soda became prized treasures, sparking a frenzy at the table.

The three men devoured the feast like starving souls reincarnated, sweeping through the dishes with wild abandon.

They ate with gusto, relishing every bite.

Words could not capture their delight!

Grease stained their lips, sweat poured down their faces.

Led by Chu Xiaoyu, the others watched the trio’s wild eating spree, barely touching their own chopsticks in the second half.

Watching them wolf down their meal was a joy in itself.

“Master, your food is truly delicious,” Bi Gan exclaimed.

Though a prince and royal uncle, accustomed to the best in the palace, today’s meal nearly had him biting his own tongue in delight.

“If it’s tasty, eat more. Daji, go fetch some more meatballs from the fridge, let them indulge to their hearts’ content,” Chu Xiaoyu instructed.

Obedient as a maid, Su Daji complied without hesitation.

The wise know when to yield.

Su Daji, having learned of Chu Xiaoyu’s formidable power, chose to be a docile little lamb—able to eat meat and drink soup without worry.