Chapter 116: The Down-and-Out Scholar

He Changan’s expression shifted slightly, just as he was about to dodge a sword strike that seemed to have traveled across a thousand mountains and rivers to reach him.

The shimmering, chaotic light suddenly transformed that flying sword into a graceful celestial maiden. She danced upon the strings of the Celestial Fox Lady’s zither, her every glance and movement embodying the ethereal grace of an immortal.

It was a manifestation conjured by the melody, "Flying Immortal Beyond the Heavens."

He Changan and the local townspeople who had come to drink and listen to the music watched with rapt attention, their expressions varied. Some were struck by sudden realization, others stomped their feet in regret, some sat dazed holding a bowl of wine, while others wore smiles of satisfaction, as if they had gained some profound insight.

He Changan fell into deep contemplation. This was undoubtedly a sword technique, yet he could not see it clearly. It was far too ethereal; even though he had previously savored the sensation of sword intent like silk, this technique possessed only the intent, without the sword itself.

The sword intent was like the void—a sense of wistful loss—that was the general state of mind it evoked.

For a long time, he was unable to pull himself away.

It was only when a gust of fragrant wind brushed his face that he realized the song had ended. The Celestial Fox Lady sat demurely across from him, her face wreathed in smiles.

"Your rendition of 'Flying Immortal Beyond the Heavens' is truly enchanting," He Changan said, cupping his hands in a respectful salute. "I have never heard such a soul-stirring melody. I lost my composure; please forgive my discourtesy."

The Celestial Fox Lady smiled brightly, personally picking two purple grapes for him. "It was merely a sudden inspiration, a whim of the moment. You are too kind, sir."

She was poised and graceful, a refreshing presence that put one at ease. It was nothing like the "listening to music in a brothel" that He Changan had imagined...

...

The conversation with the Celestial Fox Lady had lasted only a dozen sentences. Upon reflection, it was merely simple pleasantries—asking where he had come from and where he intended to go.

Furthermore, the Celestial Fox Lady repeatedly warned him not to let her father, Hu Buyan, swindle him out of his money, lest she have to step in and demand it back herself.

He Changan could only shake his head and offer a bitter smile; it seemed Hu Buyan’s status within his own family was not particularly high.

Having walked a fair distance, He Changan looked back and finally noticed a small banner hanging at the entrance of the tavern. Scrawled crookedly upon it were three large characters: "Wine Near."

The name was quite intriguing, remarkably similar to the world-famous "Sword Near." It was just that the characters were poorly written, and they seemed to carry an air of bewitching charm.

When he entered, the sun was setting behind the western hills; when he left, the sky was filled with stars and a sliver of a waning moon.

He Changan walked slowly along a quiet alleyway toward the Mountain Dwelling Inn. Behind him, in the shadows, it felt as though countless eerie eyes were watching.

Following Hu Buyan’s advice, he never turned his head, merely silently taking out a handful of silver shards and dropping a dozen or so along the path.

Hu Buyan had said that when walking through lands of spirits and demons at night, one must leave "road-buying money" to ensure one's safety. However, He Changan had pondered the matter and felt it was likely just the old man’s way of swindling him out of his money.

Still, it didn't matter.

Wealth is meant to be spent, and these few silver shards could be considered a drink tip for the old man.

...

As he neared the Mountain Dwelling Inn, he reached a wine shop at the end of the narrow alley.

Unlike the Celestial Fox Lady’s tavern, which combined drinking, entertainment, and dining, this establishment was purely for selling wine.

It was a low, stone house with a small wooden sign hanging at the door, bearing the single character "Wine." A down-and-out scholar sat under a lamp, reading.

Having walked past it, He Changan suddenly turned back and asked with a smile, "How much for a jar of wine?"

The scholar looked up. In the lamplight, he appeared surprisingly refined and handsome. He smiled at He Changan and said, "There is only half a jar of osmanthus wine left. Three hundred taels of silver, and it’s yours."

He Changan chuckled sheepishly and turned to leave.

It wasn't that he didn't want it; he simply couldn't afford it. Back in the Blue Stone Town, gold and silver had been piled like a hill, but he had been a reckless spendthrift, waving his hand and leaving it all to A-Jiu. At this moment, he truly didn't have much silver on him.

Of course, his storage bag contained many valuable items, but to reveal his wealth for a mere jar of wine would be unwise.

"Sir, wait! I can sell it to you for less," the scholar said gently. Seeing that He Changan didn't even turn back, he added, "If you really can't pay, I can even let you buy it on credit."

He Changan looked back, smiling apologetically. "My pockets are empty; I can't afford it."

"Haha, you can afford to stay at the Mountain Dwelling Inn, but you can't afford my osmanthus wine?" the scholar laughed heartily. "Don't worry, this half-jar will certainly satisfy you."

He Changan slipped away.

The reason he had looked back was not to buy wine, but to verify something.

At that very moment, he witnessed a terrifying scene in this town!

Deep within the narrow alley and inside the houses along the street, dozens, perhaps hundreds, of bizarre and grotesque monsters were hiding in the darkness, watching him.

There were six-tailed white foxes with seductive eyes, black wolves baring their fangs, dragons roaring silently, and creatures of snake and scorpion licking their blood-stained teeth...

...

The down-and-out scholar sighed, waved his hand, and glared at the strange monsters in the darkness. He cursed impatiently, "Keep looking, keep looking at your father's balls—you've scared away a perfectly good customer!"

A rustling sound came from the darkness as the monsters retreated like a receding tide.

Faint, giggling laughter echoed—truly chilling in the dead of night.

The scholar picked up the half-jar of osmanthus wine and, clutching a scroll of books, ambled crookedly toward "Wine Near," muttering to himself, though it was unclear who he was cursing this time.

...

The Celestial Fox Lady's "Wine Near" was closing. A limping young waiter was wiping the tables, an old man with a hunched back was mopping the floor, and the woman sat behind the counter, chin in hand, lost in thought.

Suddenly, a dog barked outside, followed immediately by a chorus of angry shouting and startled cries.

A moment later, a black dog trotted in with a steady, measured gait, found a clean corner, and lay down lazily to nap.

"It's that boring scholar again," the limping boy grumbled, hurrying to the door to lock it.

The scholar poked his head in first, looked left and right, then shoved the boy aside and squeezed through the gap. He bowed to the Celestial Fox Lady and said with a smile, "My lady, have you been well?"

"I was, until I saw you," the Celestial Fox Lady replied coldly, not even lifting her eyelids.

The scholar seemed indifferent to her cold shoulder; perhaps he was used to it by now. In any case, he solemnly found a freshly wiped table, set the half-jar of osmanthus wine down with a *thud*, and said, "Bring me a few seasonal fruits. On such a beautiful night with a full moon, how can one be without wine?"

The limping boy looked up at the sky, then back at the scholar, and muttered, "Blind as a bat. It's pitch black out there; what moon are you talking about?"

The Celestial Fox Lady let out a soft laugh and held out a slender hand. "Two bunches of grapes, one plate of pine nuts—a total of one mace and two candareens of silver."

The scholar jumped up, eyes wide. "Why—why is it so expensive?"

"Lady Celestial Fox, I have been racking my brains lately, wanting to write two lines of poetry for you to express my yearning. How about I recite—"

*Thump, thump.* Two dull thuds sounded as the hunched old man, unable to bear it any longer, struck himself on the ears with his own fists.

Then, the old man grinned, revealing a mouthful of gleaming white fangs, and said in a muffled voice, "Alright, go ahead and recite."

The scholar pointed at the old man, his lips trembling, but he didn't dare to curse. He grabbed the half-jar of wine and took a long, wild swig.

Wiping his wet mouth, the scholar roared, "One day, when I make a name for myself, I will definitely marry your lady!"

In the end, the scholar was too short on cash to order the two bunches of purple grapes and the plate of pine nuts.

Having drunk half a bellyful of osmanthus wine, he finally gathered his courage and loudly recited two lines about the agony of lovesickness: "Red beans grow in the southern land, how many branches sprout in spring..."

Before he could finish the poem, the limping boy grabbed a stick, gave him a sound thrashing, and chased him out.

The hunched old man grinned with a mouth like a bloody basin, his eyes squinting with amusement. He gave the boy a thumbs-up and said, "Well done. That fellow Qingyu even dares to plagiarize Wang Mojie’s poetry and claim it’s his own. Hmph, next time he comes, I’ll write him a couple of lines myself."