Bio-engineered Dinosaur in the immortal world-Chapter 118: Shameless Zou Fang

Elder Fu took slow, deliberate steps forward, his heavy cane tapping against the stone floor with each movement.

The entire hall watched as he stopped before Elder Fan Ming and gave him a respectful nod.

"Elder Fan Ming, it has been a while."

Elder Fan Ming returned the nod with a faint smile, his wrinkled face showing familiarity.

"Indeed, Elder Fu. I trust your health has been well?"

A deep, raspy chuckle escaped Elder Fu's throat.

"Well enough, thanks to you. I still remember the tea you brought me yesterday—it eased my old bones quite nicely. I must thank you for your assistance in handling the matter with the outer sect disciples. Without your guidance, they might have embarrassed themselves further."

Elder Fan Ming let out a low hum of agreement.

"Hmph, it was nothing. Though I must admit, seeing their pitiful attempts was quite amusing."

Their conversation stretched on, detailing every single event of yesterday, from the exact flavors of the tea they drank, to how Elder Fan Ming helped Elder Fu in sorting through a few rebellious disciples, to how a certain sect servant had almost tripped over Elder Fu's cane.

The two elders spoke at length, exchanging long-winded pleasantries, their conversation dragging on and on as if the rest of the hall didn't exist.

Zou Fang, standing there stiffly, could barely contain his nervousness.

"Tsk. What a small sect," Wei Long's voice sneered inside his spiritual sea of consciousness. "This old bastard is probably following you around because I killed all his past disciples! Hahaha!"

Zou Fang felt his blood freeze.

"Wait, what?!"

Wei Long laughed, his tone full of amusement.

"Oh yeah. Didnt I tell you already that I killed a few of his disciples back when I was still in my beast form. I think one of them was some young genius he was training, but meh, didn't taste good anyway. He's probably looking at you like a replacement."

Zou Fang turned pale. He remembered Wei Long told him yesterday.

Before he could even process that information, Elder Fu suddenly turned his sharp gaze toward him.

"Zou Fang."

Zou Fang straightened involuntarily.

"Why did you leave yesterday early?" Elder Fu asked, his voice calm, yet carrying a hidden weight. "I was planning to make you my disciple."

The hall fell silent.

Elder Fan Ming's eyes widened slightly in surprise.

The breeders watching from the side collectively froze.

Even the elder standing beside Elder Fan Ming sucked in a breath.

And Angola… well, even the bruised, beaten lizard let out a small, dumbfounded croak.

A disciple whispered in disbelief.

"Did… did he just say he was going to make Zou Fang his disciple?"

Another gasped, gripping his robe.

"Elder Fu… he's second only to the Patriarch! He personally trains the most talented disciples in the sect!"

"Wait, wait, wait!" someone else panicked. "He doesn't just accept disciples! He only takes in those with extreme potential! Could it be… does he see something in Zou Fang?!"

The whispers turned into outright muttering, then full-blown shock.

Breeders and disciples alike were in complete disbelief.

Elder Fu's gaze remained locked on Zou Fang, waiting for a response.

Zou Fang's face twitched.

"Uhh…"

Inside his spiritual sea, Wei Long spoke up with an amused tone.

"Why are you hesitating? Isn't this good? Getting a strong backer and all that?"

Zou Fang felt his soul leaving his body.

"But I thought… I was already a disciple of all the elders?"

A collective mental groan erupted from the breeders nearby.

"What do you mean?! The Patriarch literally made a speech yesterday telling you to stop your nonsense!"

"No one remembers agreeing to take you as their disciple! You are NOT a core disciple!"

Zou Fang broke into a cold sweat.

His mind raced.

He needed an answer. Fast.

But before he could say anything, a subtle, almost dangerous glint flickered in Elder Fu's eyes.

It was brief—so quick that no one else noticed.

Zou Fang felt a chill crawl up his spine.

"Wait, why does he look like he's about to force me into this?"

Just as Elder Fu opened his mouth to speak again—

Elder Fan Ming suddenly intervened.

"If you wish to be acknowledged as a core disciple," Elder Fan Ming said smoothly, stepping forward, "then you must prove your capabilities."

Elder Fu paused, turning his gaze toward Elder Fan Ming.

The tension immediately shifted.

Elder Fan Ming met Elder Fu's gaze calmly, unyielding.

"For example," Elder Fan Ming continued, "if you wish to be my direct disciple, you must demonstrate talent in temporal breeding."

Zou Fang felt like he could breathe again.

The pressure from Elder Fu seemed to ease slightly, as if the test had shifted from recruitment to proof of skill.

The hall remained silent, waiting for Zou Fang's reaction.

And then—

Zou Fang tilted his head.

"Didn't I show it already?"

Silence.

Zou Fang raised his hand and pointed straight at Angola, the massive lizard that was still sprawled on the ground, its bruised and battered body twitching slightly from exhaustion.

The hall fell silent as everyone turned their eyes toward the pitiful beast, its swollen face barely recognizable.

Angola let out a small, pitiful croak.

"What do you mean?" one of the breeders finally asked, his voice filled with suspicion.

Zou Fang crossed his arms and let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head as if disappointed that no one understood his brilliance.

"Isn't it obvious?" Zou Fang said. "I saved his life."

Gasps echoed through the hall.

"Saved?" another breeder repeated in disbelief. "You beat him half to death!"

Zou Fang scoffed, waving his hand dismissively.

"Beating? That was no ordinary beating. That was a carefully executed healing method. Do you even understand how hard it is to heal while simultaneously delivering precise strikes?"

A few people blinked in confusion.

"You… you what?"

Zou Fang took a deep breath, preparing to unleash an absolutely excruciatingly long explanation.

"Listen, you simpletons," he began, pacing back and forth like an esteemed scholar about to deliver the most important lecture of his lifetime.

"Angola's body was in critical condition, filled with layers of internal fat buildup that compressed his energy pathways, preventing his natural flow of essence from circulating properly.

"The excess fat clogged his metabolic functions, resulting in an extreme imbalance in his body's internal temperature, which in turn, led to excessive lethargy and stagnation in his core development."

"Over time, this accumulation of impurities created blockages in his meridians, further straining his vital functions. If left unchecked, he would have entered a state of irreversible decline, ultimately leading to his untimely death.

"Now, how does one resolve such a life-threatening situation? Ordinary methods such as force-feeding detoxifying elixirs would have been ineffective due to his system's sluggish digestion rate, and attempting a standard beast acupuncture procedure would have required far too much precision, not to mention time.

"Given these constraints, the most efficient method was—naturally—to manually break apart these internal obstructions by directly applying controlled force to specific pressure points throughout his body while simultaneously regulating his circulation through impact vibrations.

"Every single strike I delivered was infused with precise intent, targeting key areas to stimulate his natural healing response while forcefully expelling the accumulated toxins from his system. In simpler terms, my fists acted as a highly specialized medicinal treatment."

The breeders stood there, their expressions frozen in various stages of disbelief.

Some had their mouths slightly open as if their brains were still trying to process what they had just heard.

One disciple whispered, "What… what the hell is he saying?"

Another muttered, "I think… he's trying to say he beat the fat out of Angola?"

"How the hell does that even make sense?"

"I don't know, but it sounds really convincing!"

Meanwhile, Zou Fang was still talking.

"—and that is why my technique is not only effective but revolutionary. I have single-handedly elevated the field of temporal beast healing to a level beyond conventional understanding.

"Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if this method became the standard practice in the future. A genius like myself cannot be confined by traditional beliefs, after all."

Silence.

A single drop of sweat rolled down one of the breeder's foreheads.

Meanwhile, Elder Fu was impressed by how this disciple, Zou Fang, made up a story. It sounded pretty convincing, but it also made Elder Fu more suspicious.

After all, the way he spoke sounded like he was reading or following some script, and a beast with a Unique Class could only think that way.

Now, Elder Fu felt increasingly convinced that 'that thing' that killed his disciples was residing inside Zou Fang.

He wanted to know more.

"Shameless."

That was the only word anyone could say.

Zou Fang, however, was not finished. He suddenly turned to Elder Fan Ming, his expression serious.

"Elder Fan Ming."

The elder, who had been quietly listening with an unreadable expression, raised an eyebrow.

"Since I saved an important beast," Zou Fang continued, "can I have some beast feed? You know, like the one you gave him yesterday? Of course, I wouldn't ask for something for free, but as additional compensation—besides being your direct disciple, of course."

The hall erupted.

"SHAMELESS!"

The breeders lost their minds.

"You just beat up a sect beast, made up some nonsense about healing, and now you're asking for compensation?! And not just any compensation—you want the special feed?!"

"Even the disciples who actually tend to the beasts every day don't get that kind of reward!"

"How can you be this thick-skinned?!"

"Someone stop him before he asks for the Sect Master's inheritance next!"

Zou Fang was unfazed.

Instead, he smirked and fired back.

"You call me shameless? Hah! Look at yourselves! All of you have spent years tending to beasts, yet not a single one of you noticed that Angola was dying. You all call yourselves breeders?

"Where was your so-called expertise when this beast was on the verge of death? It was I who saw the truth. It was I who acted. And now that I ask for a tiny reward, you act like I'm robbing the sect blind? What a bunch of hypocrites!"

"A tiny reward?! That beast feed is precious!"

"You already got recognition from the elders! Why are you still asking for more?!"

"Because," Zou Fang grinned, "I know my worth."

The breeders fumed.

The air in the hall grew tense.

Finally, Elder Fan Ming let out a sigh.

"No can do."

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Zou Fang froze.

"You are not my direct disciple yet," Elder Fan Ming said, his voice calm but firm. "And as for saving Angola, that is indeed worthy of a reward, but beast feed of that quality is not something I can just hand out without reason."

Zou Fang's expression darkened slightly.

But then—

Something flew through the air.

A small object landed in Zou Fang's palm.

He blinked and looked down.

It was a spatial ring.

"Take a look inside," Elder Fan Ming said.

Zou Fang immediately probed the ring with his spiritual sense—

And then his eyes widened.

Inside, a massive pile of high-quality beast feed lay stacked neatly, filling nearly half the ring's space.

"This… this is—"

Elder Fan Ming gave a small smile.

"A week's worth of Angola's food."

Dead silence.

And then—

Every breeder in the hall exploded in jealousy.

"A week's worth?! That's more than what we get in a month!"

"Why does he get that much?! Just because he beat Angola?!"

"I swear, if I knew punching a beast would get me this kind of reward, I would've done it years ago!"

"Damn it, this guy is the luckiest bastard I've ever seen!"

Zou Fang, meanwhile, stared at the ring, his lips curling into a slow, satisfied grin.

Inside his spiritual sea of consciousness, Wei Long chuckled.

"Well, well, well. Looks like you made a profit after all," and then he would choke and added, "I mean us," he paused. And he would continue and says, "yes, us…we made a profit."