Chapter 921: Meeting an Old Acquaintance in a Small Tavern
Madam Mu’s gaze turned extremely deep, like the deepest seabed where a whale as massive as a mountain swam slowly, about to flap its enormous tail and stir up terrifying, raging waves.
Suddenly, she closed her eyes. When she opened them again the next moment, no anger could be seen—only an absolute and chilling calm.
Still the deepest seabed, but without raging waves, only a pressure that mortals could hardly bear.
“Back then, I opened my eyes and saw a small white dot amidst the towering waves. I thought it was a seagull, representing the freedom of my life.”
She paused for a moment, then continued, “Many years later, until the Imperial Uncle expelled me from the Western Continent, I still believed that. So I didn’t feel disappointed; instead, I thought I had gotten what I wanted. But it was only on that day that I learned the small white dot I saw back then wasn’t a seagull—it was a sail.”
“Zhou Dufu came alone on a small boat, riding the waves, and left without interest. Only after I learned the truth of this story did I understand that my life had never been free. That white sail represented coming and going, meaning we had to return to our former homeland. That was the true meaning of my life.”
The Little Black Dragon didn’t understand the meaning of Madam Mu’s words.
Madam Mu had no intention of explaining further. She simply walked away from the cliff’s edge.
Countless years ago, the Imperial Uncle found an excuse to expel her from the Western Continent. She began to travel the mainland, meeting many remarkable people, and eventually became the Empress of the Demon race.
With her ice-like intelligence and cunning, she won the White Emperor’s trust and love, as well as the Heavenly Sea Holy Maiden’s trust and friendship. Yet, unexpectedly, the White Emperor and the Demon Lord fought a great battle in the snowy plains north of Cold Mountain, both suffering heavy losses. Shang Xingzhou, who had been hiding for years, suddenly rose to power.
Her judgment of the situation remained accurate. Without hesitation, she sided with Shang Xingzhou and obtained his promise.
Just as the situation seemed to be coming under control and the great plan she had schemed for years was about to succeed, the Imperial Uncle she had trusted and even worshipped since childhood suddenly died.
News of what had happened on the cliff platform of the Holy Maiden Peak had gradually reached her ears.
The Western Continent’s schemes had been exposed. Many people turned their gazes toward White Emperor City, toward her. Bie Yanghong and Wuqiong Bi had even already arrived.
Logically, she should have been nervous by now, or at least uneasy. But she wasn’t. She remained as calm, composed, and confident as ever.
The white sail fluttered in the wind, strikingly visible against the turbid red river.
The great boat cut through the waves, heading straight for the opposite shore.
She stepped onto the stone steps and walked toward the palace at the top.
Thousands of Demon race soldiers on either side of the stone steps bowed in salute.
In the nearby streets and alleys, countless Demon race subjects knelt on the ground, shouting various blessings and greetings.
Arriving before the palace, her hand gently stroked her lower abdomen within her sleeve.
Then she turned around, looking down at this majestic white city from a height. A confident smile appeared on her indifferent face.
This was her city.
Even if Bie Yanghong and his wife, Chen Changsheng, the leaders of the National Church, and Wang Po all came together, they would still walk into a dead end.
…
…
The Demon race’s law was very simple—only seventeen pages.
The first page stated very clearly: White Emperor City belonged to the White Emperor.
The second page added a nice supplement: White Emperor City also belonged to every Demon race subject living within it.
In truth, over countless years, the words on the first page had been carried out thoroughly, while the words on the second page remained only on paper.
For the Demon race subjects, the glory of their race made them proud to live in White Emperor City. But becoming true masters of White Emperor City? That could only be imagined, not even dared to be thought—unless they had drunk a lot of wine and were dead drunk.
Perhaps for this reason, or more likely because of their nature, the vast majority of Demon race people loved to drink, especially strong liquor.
The outer city of White Emperor City, along the river, was filled with all kinds of small taverns. These taverns sold cheap but potent liquor, along with food that tasted terrible but was relatively expensive. They siphoned large amounts of money from the lower classes and young tribesmen who came to trade.
Places like this were surrounded every day by the stench of animal hides, foot odor, and the smell of vomit from drunkards. Naturally, they were extremely unpleasant. If not for the fact that they were very close to the river, and the sanitation department sent people every day to roughly wash them down with red river water, even the hunters from the Highland Tribe wouldn’t have been able to stand it.
A very ordinary small tavern by the river was as noisy as any other. Its back door, leaning against the wall, was as quiet as the others, piled high with mountains of bowls, plates, and cups. The only difference was the figure squatting in front of a basin washing dishes—extremely burly, looking like a real mountain.
That mountain-like man lowered his head, silently washing dishes, as if the noisy world behind him had nothing to do with him.
The back door of the tavern creaked open, and two drunken patrons staggered out. Seemingly not noticing the man washing dishes, they unbuttoned their pants and began to urinate. The man quickly moved the basin farther away and gave a warning.
Only then did the two drunkards notice the dishwashing man. One of them cursed, “No eyes? Get out of the way!”
His companion, who had drunk a little less, patted his shoulder, pointed at the dishwashing man, and whispered something. The cursing drunkard sobered up a bit, then let out an exaggerated laugh. “Oh, isn’t this the legendary bear cub?”
His companion smiled and gestured for him to finish up and go back to drinking. The drunkard cursed and laughed a few more times before complying and leaving.
The man picked up a large water vat, washed down the ground along the wall, shook his head, and continued silently washing dishes.
Clearly, he was very good at washing dishes. The mountain of bowls and plates in the basin flew and tumbled between his seemingly clumsy hands, quickly becoming clean. He carried the clean dishes back to the tavern’s kitchen and was about to wash the stove when the boss called him over, saying business was too good today and the front was too busy, so he needed to help serve drinks.
When he came to the tavern’s front hall, the noisy chatter suddenly stopped. Countless gazes fell on him.
The lighting in the tavern was dim, but faces could still be seen. The burly, mountain-like man had a full beard, but his eyes were clear and bright, clearly still young. Considering the rumors about the Bear tribe’s rough and aged appearance, this man should still be a youth.
The reason the tavern’s noise suddenly stopped was because of the arm strength this Bear tribe youth displayed.
A full twelve jugs of strong liquor hung from his left arm like heavy fruit, without any trembling, looking extremely steady.
“No wonder he was a famous young hunter from the Bear tribe back then. That strength is really something.”
“Is he that Xuan Yuan Po?”
Yes, he was Xuan Yuan Po.
The Bear tribe youth washing dishes in the small riverside tavern was Xuan Yuan Po.
Five years had passed. The honest and simple man seemed to still be doing the same thing.
To the entire mainland, the name Xuan Yuan Po had long been forgotten. But to the regulars of this small tavern and the neighbors around, the name was famous. Because he had once been to the capital. To the Demon race tribes, the human world was incredibly distant, and anyone who had been there had the right to boast.
The drunkard who had gone to the back alley to urinate let out a strange laugh and said, “Isn’t this just a waste?”
With those words, many gazes fell on Xuan Yuan Po’s right arm.
Xuan Yuan Po’s left arm was as strong as a giant tree. His right arm, for some unknown reason, had atrophied, looking like a withered branch.
The contrast between the two arms was very clear, making the scene seem all the more pitiful.