Chapter Ninety-nine: A Guest Comes from Afar

The Drunken Immortal Pavilion had few guests. After conversing with Lin Xiaofeng and learning that there was no harm in bringing Xiao Lin and Qin Yu into the underground Old Wine Street, the group of four continued walking together.

The underground Old Wine Street was as bustling as ever, with drinkers scattered everywhere. Those who had drunk too much would lean against the railings outside the taverns, with no worries of a shrewish wife at home causing trouble, nor of encountering a superior while drunk and committing a breach of etiquette.

Here, every person held a free identity and could do as they pleased. As long as one could pay for the wine, even if one collapsed drunk in the street, a young attendant would come and drape a blanket over you.

Xiao Lin loved this kind of life. Su Fan simply could not endure the gleam in his eyes any longer, so he took out gold and silver and handed them over.

Xiao Lin was the sort who, since setting foot on the path of cultivation, had rarely used such gold and silver currency, yet now that he used it again, it was not unfamiliar to him.

Even someone as shrewd as Xiao Lin could not hide his delight, for his face, as pretty as a flower, had already laid his heart completely bare.

Wine was never that mysterious a thing, nor was it unfamiliar to Xiao Lin. What man does not drink a little?

Yet wine can become addictive. Even Su Fan, with his formidable self-control, had become utterly infatuated with the peach blossom wine of the old man in gray after a single taste.

Though Xiao Lin had never drunk peach blossom wine, the Blue Sect had many disciples, and quite a few who had gone out to train would bring back wine upon their return. Xiao Lin was well-liked, so naturally he could cadge a few fine drinks.

Once he drank, he could not extricate himself. Now, in such a place as Old Wine Street, where fine wine filled every lane and the fragrance of wine drifted for ten li, he could hardly just stand there and sniff.

Watching Xiao Lin's swiftly departing back as he was about to enter a wine shop, Qin Yu too found it hard to restrain himself. He glanced at Su Fan, then quickly followed after.

Su Fan let out a wry laugh and said to Lin Xiaofeng, "I never expected that Qin Yu, who has such a strict master, would also be so unable to restrain himself."

Lin Xiaofeng said calmly, "Because he is strictly governed, he is curious, and so he easily makes mistakes."

Su Fan fell silent. That was indeed a great truth. He thought of the academy, where every disobedient child under a strict teacher's guidance was constantly told that the pleasures of the pleasure quarters were places of wanton indulgence that devoured people, and warned never to go there.

Then one year, the child grows up, yet remains endlessly curious about those places of romance, and so one day goes in secret—only to return covered in trouble. Curiosity satisfied, but the mistake already made.

Su Fan pondered for a moment, then said, "Drinking, drinking—what joy is there in drinking?"

Lin Xiaofeng smiled and said, "The joy is within it."

Su Fan silently repeated those words, then followed behind Lin Xiaofeng as they continued deeper into the street. There was one person who attracted Su Fan more than all the fine wine on the street.

...

The dragon-and-phoenix signboard still fluttered as ever, the sparse guests were still sparse. The wine jars had already been carried away, and the clerk and bookkeeper had grown drowsy, on the verge of falling asleep.

Lin Xiaofeng and the other did not disturb anyone, and familiar with the way, they headed toward the back courtyard.

This time, the back courtyard had changed—it had become extremely elegant, much like the courtyard above at the Drunken Immortal Pavilion.

It was the same room again, with the same gray-robed old man, only the fire in the stove had gone out, and the wine had long since been warmed and set upon the small table.

Before the small table was laid out a game of chess. The black and white pieces were deadlocked, neither side gaining an advantage—like a stalemated game.

The gray-robed old man sat with his head lowered in deep thought, as if pondering how the game should proceed.

The old man was so focused that he did not even notice Lin Xiaofeng sitting down before him.

Su Fan stood to one side, looking at the black and white pieces—something he knew nothing about, indeed, was completely ignorant of.

Lin Xiaofeng casually picked up a white piece from the box and was about to place it, yet as the piece hung in the air, his hand stopped.

Su Fan was startled and unconsciously began to pay attention to the changes in the board. The black and white pieces were like two generals locked in battle.

The black soldiers and white soldiers were at a standoff. The black soldiers had arrived at the city gates, while the white soldiers held firm upon sturdy walls.

The black soldiers launched multiple attacks, and the white soldiers repelled them all.

Whether it was scaling ladders raised high, or forcible assaults, or catapulted stones, the white soldiers always had a means of defense.

Boulders smashed the scaling ladders, elite troops repelled the assault forces, and nets intercepted the catapult stones.

One could say they countered every move—soldiers with generals, floods with earth. Both sides had their strengths, yet neither could harm the other's foundation.

Lin Xiaofeng seemed to see the mystery within. He slowly returned the piece in his hand to the box.

His face turned deathly pale. Su Fan had never seen Lin Xiaofeng's expression so dreadful.

Su Fan frowned slightly, gently tapped the chessboard, picked up a black piece, and lightly was about to place it.

Lin Xiaofeng suddenly grabbed Su Fan's arm and shouted, "No! If you place that piece, black will surely lose."

Su Fan said indifferently, "Why would it lose?"

Lin Xiaofeng said, "Once that piece is placed, black is showing retreat. With that retreat, white will press the advantage and pursue. How can black not lose?"

Su Fan brushed aside Lin Xiaofeng's hand, dropped the black piece onto the board, and said, "It's only a game of chess. Why let a game spoil the pleasure of drinking?"

Su Fan had merely placed a random move, never expecting the change it would bring in the gray-robed old man.

The old man's pupils contracted slightly. He suddenly slapped his palm, let out a great laugh, and said, "A fine move..."

Su Fan was startled. He set down the wine jar he was about to open and looked at the board.

He saw the black soldiers abandon the siege of the city and fall back continuously. Seeing the favorable turn, the white soldiers opened the gates and pursued.

When all the white soldiers had left the city, the black soldiers circled around to the rear and launched a counterattack.

Without the protection of solid city walls, the white soldiers collapsed in disarray, while the black soldiers fought with ever-growing ferocity.

In less than a moment, the white soldiers were all buried in the wilderness—the entire army annihilated. And so white lost the game.

Su Fan suddenly understood. He had only never imagined that his careless move could have such a miraculous effect.

The game over, the three looked at one another and smiled. They opened the wine jar and began to drink heartily. The gray-robed old man did not ask why Su Fan had come, and Su Fan did not ask where Drunken Immortal was.

They sought only to get drunk. In life, how often does one get the chance to be thoroughly drunk? At this moment, they would drink until drunk. And indeed, only the wine of the Drunken Immortal Pavilion could grant a cultivator such intoxication.

...

As the three lay drunk, they did not know that a luxurious carriage was driving into Old Wine Street.

Tall and grand horses—how could a carriage pulled by three fine horses be anything but fine? Moreover, every gold and silver ornament on the carriage was priceless.

The carriage stopped at the end of Old Wine Street.

It stopped at the entrance of the Drunken Immortal Pavilion. The man who stepped down was slightly stout, appearing noble and dignified, with an extraordinary bearing.

He stepped into the Drunken Immortal Pavilion and casually found the way to the underground. His expression was grave, as though he had important matters to attend to, or as though he had come to ask someone for help.

But his proud face carried not a trace of pleading, as if it were only natural for others to help him.

Still at the end of the street, still at the Drunken Immortal Pavilion. No wine could attract him—only the Drunken Immortal Pavilion.

The bookkeeper glanced at him and said lazily, "Buying wine?" Neither did he change his attitude because of the man's nobility, nor did he soften his expression because of his bearing.

The middle-aged man said in a low voice, "Looking for someone."

"Who?" the bookkeeper replied, listless.

The middle-aged man said impatiently, "Su Fan."