Chapter 332: Encounter
Before entering the border town, they passed by a solitary inn, its tattered old wine banner hanging crumpled outside.
Chen Ping'an shook his gourd and decided to replenish his wine. He could taste the quality of liquor well enough—he had drunk the Forget-Sorrow Wine of the Huangliang Blessed Land and the fine brews of Osmanthus Island, and he had bought plenty from roadside taverns and street-corner stalls. He wasn't too picky.
Outside the inn, a scrawny mongrel dog lay sprawled in the sun. Spotting Chen Ping'an and his two companions from afar, it scrambled to its feet, bared its teeth, and started barking.
What kind of hospitality was this?
A small, lame boy dashed out with a knife in his hand. Pointing the blade at the dog, he barked fiercely, "Keep yapping, and I'll take your dog head!"
The dog listlessly flopped back down to the ground.
The little lame boy looked up and saw the three rare guests. He quickly hid the knife behind his back, forcing a smile. "Honored guests, don't be afraid! This isn't some den of thieves—I swear we're honest folk running a proper business!"
As if afraid the guests might turn and flee, the scrawny, limping boy took the initiative and shouted back inside toward the main hall, "Boss Lady! Guests are here! Hurry up and wipe the tables clean! Your favorite kind has arrived—a handsome young gentleman, and a scholar too!"
After delivering the good news to the boss lady, the boy quickly turned back, bent at the waist, and extended his hand. "Honored guests, please come inside and sit. Our inn's boss lady has a family recipe for brewing green plum wine, and my master's specialty is roast whole lamb. For a thousand miles along this border, there's no other place like this!"
Chen Ping'an, Pei Qian, and Wei Xian entered the inn.
On the first floor, there were only a few tables for drinking and dining, which suggested business was slow. The second floor had rooms for guests. At that moment, the main hall had no other customers—just a woman sitting with one foot propped up on a bench, cracking melon seeds. She cast a sidelong glance at the so-called "scholar" the lame boy had mentioned. She hadn't held out much hope; the little cripple had grown up wallowing in a cesspit of ignorance and wouldn't know how to spell "handsome" if his life depended on it.
The woman wore a wide-sleeved, short jacket with round collars and a yellow floral pattern on a red background. The fabric was not cheap, and the design was nice, but the garment was clearly old and stained, as if coated in a layer of grease.
Her face was plump and rosy, her figure graceful, and fairness covered up a hundred flaws—besides, she wasn't ugly to begin with. Though she was already a woman in her thirties, she could still hold her own against any pretty fifteen- or sixteen-year-old girl.
Her eyes lit up. With a coquettish, syrupy "Oh my," she tossed a handful of melon seeds onto the floor, casually swept them under the table with her embroidered shoes, and swayed her slender waist like a snake as she slithered over to Chen Ping'an. She slapped a hand onto the shoulder of the handsome young man in the white robe and gave it a squeeze. *Well, well, well, I've hit the jackpot. Not only is he good-looking, but he's got some muscle too—not one of those decorative pillows that look nice but are useless.*
When she tried to push further and pat his chest, Chen Ping'an sidestepped, letting her hand hit empty air. He chuckled. "Shopkeeper, I'd like to buy three to five catties of wine. I'm not eating or staying—just buying wine and leaving. The boy mentioned you have a family-recipe green plum wine. How much does it cost?"
The woman withdrew her hand, looking a bit put out. "Young master, rushing off to that Fox Town so soon? I'm not just saying this to drum up business, but I ought to warn you—that place is always haunted by ghosts and demons. They can muddle people's minds. This year, it's even worse. Plenty of merchants and travelers have met with misfortune. They don't die, but they go mad over there, and they always end up losing their limbs. So how about you stay here at our inn? We've got as many jars of green plum wine as you want—not expensive at all. The best five-year-aged brew, two jars for just one tael of silver. Plus, we can roast a whole lamb. Eat and drink your fill, and stay the night here. Then..."
At this point, her eyebrows arched with a hint of springtide, and a rippling charm spread across her face. "Sister here will personally bring you your foot-washing water."
Pei Qian was drooling beside him. Hearing the words "roast whole lamb," she couldn't move.
She wiped her mouth and tugged lightly at Chen Ping'an's sleeve.
Chen Ping'an thought for a moment, then asked Wei Xian, "Can you drink?"
Wei Xian nodded. "Boundless capacity."
Chen Ping'an turned to the boss lady and smiled. "We won't stay the night, but we can eat a meal here. Besides the wine we'll drink with the meal, prepare an extra five catties of green plum wine for me to take away."
The woman waved at the lame boy. "Go pick out a lamb for your hunchbacked master. Make sure it's the right mix of fat and lean. Put some thought into it. Don't spend all day dreaming that some cheap master will fall from the sky and teach you peerless martial arts—that kind of luck won't land on your head. Now get lost."
The boy grumbled and scurried off.
The three of them sat down, leaving one bench empty. The woman went to the counter, brought over a few plates of snacks, set them on the table, and sat opposite Chen Ping'an. "Young master, your accent doesn't sound like you're from Daquan. A traveling scholar, are you? From Beijin?"
Chen Ping'an smiled. "From further south."
The woman leaned forward, bending over to grab a handful of dried fruits bought from Fox Town. Her heavy breasts pressed firmly against the table. She noticed that the young gentleman never took his eyes off her face—his gaze was clear and pure. That surprised her. *Is there really a cat in this world that doesn't like fish?* She smiled beguilingly. "How about we have a little drink first? I can take it slow with you. By the time the roast lamb is served, we'll be pleasantly tipsy. Then tearing off a golden, oily leg of lamb—now that's pure bliss."
Chen Ping'an nodded. "Sounds good."
The woman fetched a jar of wine and four large white bowls stacked together. She broke the seal and poured the wine. The green plum wine showed an amber color, remarkably clear, not at all cloudy. Just looking at it could make a wine lover feel a bit drunk. She was quite proud of herself. Smiling, she introduced the family-recipe green plum wine, explaining that it came in half-year, three-year, and five-year aged varieties. Even the worst—the half-year brew—had once earned praise from a heroic traveler from the capital who had ridden up on a tall horse. After tasting it, he gave a thumbs-up and exclaimed that not even the capital of Daquan had such fine wine.
Pei Qian put on an innocent face and asked, "Someone from the capital only drank the half-year brew?"
The woman was choked off and quickly recovered. "That hero just wanted a taste at first. Later, just like your young master here, he bought several catties of the five-year brew."
Pei Qian gave a fake smile, pretending to understand. "Oh, so that's how it is. People from Daquan's capital aren't very generous. Buying some wine, they need to taste it first? Not like my... my father here—he just goes straight for the most expensive five-year brew."
Chen Ping'an rapped her on the head with his knuckles, making her clutch her head with both hands.
He then moved the big bowl of green plum wine that was in front of Pei Qian over to Wei Xian, who sat on the other side. He let this self-proclaimed "boundless capacity" former emperor of Nanyuan Kingdom have two bowls all to himself—surely two bowls were no challenge.
Pei Qian rubbed her head, aggrieved. "Can't I even have a tiny sip? I've walked so far! I'm thirsty—my throat's about to catch fire!"
The little girl's lips were cracked, nearly bleeding. If not for the Demon-Suppressing Talisman stuck on her forehead, granting her astonishing stamina, she wouldn't have been able to make it to this inn.
Money makes the devil turn the millstone. The talisman makes her march. In the end, it all came down to money.
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Who said you're supposed to relieve your thirst by drinking wine? Later, ask the boss lady for a bowl of water yourself."
Pei Qian shot a glance at that flashy woman, snorted, crossed her arms, and turned her head away, refusing to look at her.
The woman didn't mind. She got up, fetched a bowl of tea, and gently placed it in front of Pei Qian. "Drink up—it's free."
Pei Qian immediately grabbed the bowl with both hands, gulped it down without stopping, and emptied it in one go.
Why refuse something free? She hated this old woman, but she didn't hate the bowl of tea in front of her.
Chen Ping'an and Wei Xian exchanged a glance.
Chen Ping'an sighed inwardly. *This shopkeeper is no pushover, either. She holds grudges just as much as Pei Qian. Earlier, when her back was turned to us, she spat a mouthful of saliva into that tea, then swirled the bowl with a twist of her wrist to mix it up before setting it on the table—no trace left behind.*
Still, the green plum wine's flavor was truly exceptional. Even without any spiritual essence, it was on par with the osmanthus brew on that island ferry. He definitely had to fill his Sword-nurturing Gourd with it. If that wasn't enough, he'd have Wei Xian carry a few jars as well. Since the man dared to claim "boundless capacity," he must be a wine lover.
Chen Ping'an took small sips of the green plum wine—so pleasing to the eye, burning like hot charcoal going down the throat, but warming the belly as it settled. His mood lifted. He asked, "Shopkeeper, have you heard of the Yao family's border troops?"
The woman replied casually, "Of course. Anyone scraping a living along this border knows of the Yao Iron Cavalry's reputation. I'm not bragging to you, young master, but a certain young General Yao once came to this inn with a retinue. They ate an entire roast lamb before leaving and threw a huge silver ingot on the table. But those soldiers, even just eating and drinking, are terrifying. I didn't dare get close—I always felt they carried killing intent."
She gently patted her chest, but the poor strained garment seemed barely able to hold up.
Chen Ping'an asked, "The Yao family's border troops have a good reputation?"
The woman laughed. "Good or bad, how would commoners like us know? We never have a chance to deal with such high-and-mighty people. But I suppose their reputation isn't bad. I've been running this inn for over a decade and haven't heard any stories of the Yao bullying anyone. The most common news is about which Yao man earned another great merit, got rewarded by the court, and was promoted to a high rank. Or which one died in battle somewhere in southern Beijin, and his wife became a widow yet again. That's about the gist of the gossip—I've heard it so many times I'm sick of it."
Chen Ping'an nodded. He now had a rough impression of this Yao clan, which had migrated from the Lizhu Cave Heaven to the Tongye Continent.
Wei Xian had already finished one big bowl of wine and was now on his second. His face was flushed red, but his eyes were bright. "Border troops that neither harass the people nor cultivate a lofty reputation—that's a clear signal to the emperor that they have no intention of becoming separatist warlords. A wise move. Otherwise, a ruler who finds foreign lands beyond every bed wouldn't dare rest easy."
The woman was taken aback. "This elder, what did you say?"
Wei Xian downed a gulp from his bowl, then slammed the table. "Wherever the horse's hooves tread, that is our territory! This wine is excellent!"
The self-proclaimed "boundless capacity" former emperor of Nanyuan Kingdom, after delivering his grand declaration, collapsed into a drunken mess on the table, snoring like thunder.
Now there was no choice but to stay at the inn.
Soon after, the lame boy and a hunchbacked old man carried a large platter of roast whole lamb to the table. Chen Ping'an ate more than usual, and Pei Qian ate to the point of bursting. In the end, she was almost forcibly tearing off chunks of meat and stuffing them into her mouth. Chen Ping'an ate slowly, chewing carefully, and drank at a leisurely pace.
The boss lady sat behind the counter. Chen Ping'an had invited her to join them for the meal, but she politely declined. It was fine to share a drink, but shamelessly eating with the guests would be improper—that was no way to run an inn. Pei Qian, with her belly sticking out, started pacing around the table to aid digestion; otherwise, she'd be uncomfortable.
Chen Ping'an booked three adjacent rooms on the second floor, with Pei Qian in the middle. They helped Wei Xian upstairs and dumped him onto the bed. Fortunately, though his alcohol tolerance was poor, his behavior was good—he just slept when drunk, no ranting or raving. Pei Qian went to her room, closed the door, and started burping. Chen Ping'an removed his bamboo box, placed it in his own room, and then stepped out, planning to go downstairs and ask the boss lady more about Daquan's customs and geography.
Chen Ping'an noticed a new guest in the inn. He was a shaggy, unkempt man in a blue long robe, about thirty years old. He sat at a table, staring dreamily at the boss lady behind the counter, who had a cold expression. There was no wine, no food, not even a single dish on his table. The lame boy sat at the foot of the stairs, looking at the man with utter disgust.
By the curtain hanging at the kitchen doorway, the hunchbacked old man sat on a bench, cross-legged, smoking a long-stemmed pipe.
Chen Ping'an didn't hurry downstairs. He leaned on the railing.
Earlier, when he had stopped the two assassins chasing the Yao family border troops, the sword cultivator among them had clearly kept a trump card. Chen Ping'an had sensed a faint, violent aura in the distance—likely a great demon of considerable cultivation, at least on par with the sword cultivator's realm. But it had appeared abruptly and vanished just as suddenly, suppressed by a surge of righteous qi. That was why the middle-aged sword cultivator had fled in panic, and the martial artist attendant wearing the Sweet Dew Armor had no choice but to flee as well.
As Chen Ping'an looked at the disheveled man in blue, his first instinct was that this person might be the hidden figure who had instantly killed the great demon. Either a genius from a clan-level sect in Tongye Continent, or... like Zhou Juran, a member of a Confucian academy!
But Chen Ping'an quickly became uncertain. The man was being ignored by the boss lady, scorned by the lame boy, and dismissed by the hunchback. He was also short on cash, and everyone in the inn knew it well. He didn't even have a chance to put up a front. In a moment of sorrow, he looked at the woman and said with infatuation, "Nine Niang, I don't care that you're a widow with a child. Truly, I don't..."
Chen Ping'an slapped his forehead. *Setting aside this man's identity and cultivation, when it comes to matters of love, he's even worse than me. No wonder he's unwelcome. Who talks to a woman like that? That's not sweet talk—it's stabbing her right in the heart.*
Sure enough, the boss lady, who had only been cold before, now glared at that bastard through gritted teeth. "Do you believe I'll go to the sheep pen, grab a dustpan full of manure, and dump it on your head?!"
Chen Ping'an glanced at the woman again.
The blue-robed man collapsed onto the table, flailing his arms and legs, his hands moving like rags wiping a table. "Nine Niang, how can you be so heartless? How am I supposed to live? It's not my fault I'm poor, but 'literary works resent favorable fate'—a scholar has to be poor, or else he can't write the timeless articles that flow from a wondrous pen..."
The lame boy spat hard. "Timeless articles my ass! Those doggerel of yours—even I, who never studied, find them sickening."
The hunchback seemed to choke on his pipe, evidently also traumatized by the man's "timeless articles."
The blue-robed man suddenly seemed to have an epiphany. He sat up straight and smiled at the woman. "Nine Niang, could it be that you're afraid of hindering my brilliant future? That's why you won't be with me? It doesn't matter—I don't care about worldly opinions..."
The woman couldn't take it anymore. She snapped coldly, "Lame boy! Hunchback! Get your knives! Whoever kills him gets ten taels of silver!"
The hunchback didn't move, but the lame boy immediately sprinted to the kitchen to grab a knife.
The blue-robed man stood up, straightened his clothes, then turned and fled in a flash.
Chen Ping'an decided not to go downstairs. He returned to his room, closed the door, and took out the second scroll. He unrolled it on the table—the martial lunatic Zhu Lian.