The Little Fox's Immortal Cultivation Encyclopedia

Chapter 152 Fishing for Insects

The fox reached out to investigate again.

The moment the wine went down, the wine worm became active. It split its head open with a thin slit and swallowed every drop of wine that fell into its stomach.

The wine it drank was more than twice the size of its body, yet it did not swell; instead, its golden radiance became even more striking.

"Ugh...hiccup."

The wine bug let out a whimper, then let out a satisfied burp, and began to roll around in its stomach again, but instead of banging against the wall as before, it frolicked around, turning over and over.

Then it swam out of the water, arching its back, and skillfully moved to a certain spot. It rubbed its head against the surface, then pressed its whole body against it, curled up into a ball, and stopped moving. The two black dots on its head also disappeared.

The fox withdrew its hand and silently looked at the man before it.

The drunkard patted his stomach, a look of surprise on his face: "I'm not craving it anymore."

"Young master, what exactly have you discerned?"

"Your ancient wine jar has been buried underground for too long. The essence of the wine slowly condensed and absorbed the earth's energy over the years, eventually developing a spiritual nature. In short, that wine has become a spirit."

"Wine has become a spirit?" The drunkard's expression changed. "It's alive?"

"It is naturally alive; after you drank it, it settled in your stomach; it eats without being fed, sleeps after eating, and is now plump and healthy."

The crowd exchanged bewildered glances, marveling, "Such a thing is actually true. Young master, you are truly learned."

"Yes, it's unheard of for a mere insect to live such a comfortable life." The fox's focus was different from others.

The drunkard remained silent for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts, before finally speaking hesitantly, "Then, can we take it out?"

"Of course you can, but once it's taken out, your brewed wine will be back to normal."

The drunkard gritted his teeth and said, "Although I love drinking and brewing, I'm powerless to control myself now. All the wine I've been forced to drink has just fed the bugs. Besides, I can't even get properly drunk now, so what's the point?"

The fox glanced at him sideways, thinking, "You were all smiles when you were drinking earlier."

"How will you remove it, young master?"

The fox laughed and said, "To all of you, I also know a little about snake-taming. I can even tame long worms, let alone mere small insects."

The waiter's eyes widened: "Young master, you mean like those snake charmers, they can make the wine bug come out of their stomachs by striking a small gong?"

"Where am I supposed to find you a gong?" The fox pondered for a moment, then suddenly had another amusing idea. It took out the fishing rod it had just used to fish. "I just remembered," it said, "I know a little about fishing."

Upon seeing the curved, sharp fishing hook, the drunkard immediately shrank back, only to be caught by the fox.

Do you have any containers for holding wine?

The drunkard shakily pulled out a gourd.

The fox took the fishing rod, dipped it in some wine, and held it above the drunkard's mouth: "I promise I won't hook you. I'll let it smell the wine and bite the hook itself. Once it bites, I'll just pull it out gently, and you won't even feel any pain."

The fox spoke softly, as if coaxing Tuotuo.

The drunkard gritted his teeth, his neck stiff, and said, "Come on!"

With a flick of his finger, the fox's magic flowed along the fishing line, controlling the hook to silently probe into the drunkard's belly.

The wine worm shuddered, and then two black dots appeared on the other side, away from the smell of alcohol.

The fox paused, letting the scent of alcohol waft from the insect's tail to its head.

The wine-loving insect, half-asleep, followed the aroma for a moment, then snapped awake and rushed towards the smell of alcohol.

But it missed.

It let out a low growl and crawled toward the smell of alcohol, but each time it crawled close, the smell would drift away, neither too close nor too far, just out of reach.

It panicked.

Its entire body was taut like a bow, gathering strength, then it shot out towards the smell of alcohol above its head.

Then it landed perfectly on the fishing hook.

With a flick of the fox's hand, the wine worm flew up along the esophagus.

The drunkard's throat suddenly bulged, and his eyes widened as he watched a golden light fly out of his mouth and land squarely in the gourd.

"Woo-woo-yi!" the wine bug cried angrily.

The fox, quick as a flash, added a bowl of wine to the gourd. The gourd was quiet for a moment, then continued to tremble.

A crowd immediately surrounded them.

The waiter peered closer to the gourd, asking, "Is this the wine worm? Why is it so small?"

"Smack!"

The gourd made a crisp sound, startling the waiter so much that he jumped back.

"What's wrong with it?"

"He's throwing a tantrum," the fox chuckled. "How could he not be angry when he's been kicked out of the house he's lived in for a year?"

The drunkard looked to the fox for help: "Young master, what should we do?"

The fox simply said, "You've been with it for a year, and it came from your belly. Soothe it yourself."

The way you say that, young master, makes it sound as if I've given birth to a worm. The drunkard was embarrassed, held the gourd, looked at it for a long time, and then suddenly tapped it three times.

The gourd indeed became quiet.

The drunkard breathed a sigh of relief, but then noticed the strange looks on everyone's faces. He hurriedly explained, "I used to be in so much pain that I would fight poison with poison. At first, hitting my stomach didn't work; the pain was still there. But after a while, I don't know if it was because I got used to it or what, but after three hits, the pain would actually lessen a bit."

As the drunkard spoke, he peered into the gourd again, and seeing the writhing figure of the wine worm, he felt relieved. His dazed and confused state vanished completely. He turned to the fox and said, "This wine worm should be handed over to you, sir."

The fox quickly refused, "You should take it."

The drunkard bowed deeply to the fox: "I will never forget your great kindness, young master."

After all that commotion, it was completely daylight.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, falling on the drunkard's face. The fox waved his hand: "No need for further words. It's getting late; let's get going."

The waiter brought some more food from the kitchen, and everyone toasted and drank together. Finally, it was time to say goodbye.

The waiter ran to fetch the horse and helped the merchant pack his luggage. Suddenly, the entrance to the inn became lively.

The drunkard bowed again: "Young master, Manager Li and I are traveling north together. If you happen to pass by in the future, please be sure to stop by my wine shop."

The fox mounted his horse: "No need for fine wine, some roast chicken will suffice. I'll head south to see the scenery first. On my way!"

The fox gently stroked the horse's back, and the black horse neighed loudly, then lightly took off running south along the official road.

The merchant watched the figure disappear into the horizon before remarking leisurely, "That young master is truly a remarkable person."

"Not just a wonderful person, he's practically a god! This has been troubling me for a year—"

The drunkard was still rambling on, but the merchant was stunned and could no longer hear what he was saying.

He thought again of the water god, and of the steed that had seen him off that night. A strange guess arose in his mind: that young master...

The amber eyes seemed to merge with the eyes of the water god's fish—

The merchants tried to overlap for a long time, but they couldn't.

>