Chapter 227

We are dedicated to creating the most comprehensive free collection of 97 Romance Novels! Wonderful!Welcome, [username]!Novel Search

Trade between Northern Mang and Northern Liang involved a particularly high proportion of horses exchanged for tea. While much of it was coarse tea for dietary adjustment, over time, several ancient Tea-Horse Roads were established to transport fine teas like Longjing, Biluo, and Dahongpao. These routes were especially busy during the period before and around the Guyu and Qingming festivals, with merchants and peddlers forming an endless stream. As a major border city in Southern Northern Mang, Liuxia City benefited from its prime location near water sources. Moreover, the city boasted several high-quality springs, with the Sparrow Tongue Spring even ranking among the seventy-two most famous springs in the world. This abundance of water led to numerous tea houses and pavilions scattered throughout the city.

In the northeastern corner of the city, near Silver Ingot Bridge, stood a waterside tea shop without a signboard. A bamboo birdcage hung by the entrance, housing a green-feathered, red-beaked parrot. While parrots typically mimic speech, this simple-minded creature would enthusiastically squawk "Eunuch! Eunuch!" at every customer. It was truly infuriating, inviting only curses and blows. Coupled with the tea shop's simple setup, its mediocre teas, and the somewhat crude lidded bowl tea method imported from Old Western Shu, the establishment naturally attracted few patrons. The owner was a scholarly elderly man with thoroughly graying temples, yet his face appeared remarkably youthful. With his cold and distant personality, he was hardly one to cultivate a loyal customer base.

The shop's sole employee was a young man of decent appearance who carried a wooden sword all day. Occasionally, he would latch onto an unsuspecting stranger who wandered into the tea shop, serving them with such overzealous enthusiasm that it only annoyed them. After paying for their tea, these customers had no intention of returning, and the tea shop's business grew increasingly desolate. Fortunately, the rent was inexpensive and the initial capital modest, allowing the establishment to barely stay afloat.

As dusk settled, the old man sat by the window, tuning a python-skin erhu. Earlier, a discerning customer had recognized the quality of a rosewood erhu, whose beautiful sound had prompted an eighty-tael offer. No matter how much the young employee urged and persuaded, pointing out that eighty taels could fund a much larger tea house, the old man simply refused to sell. This infuriated the young man so much that he nearly slaughtered the parrot for meat. A moment later, he concocted a bowl of egg and scallion noodles for himself and, burying his head in it at an adjacent table, mumbled indistinctly, "Old Huang, if this keeps up, our tea shop will start losing money. I know you're not short on cash, but my brothers always said that while a bit of extravagance is fine when you're out in the martial world, since we're in business together, we absolutely cannot operate at a loss. Old Huang, don't pretend not to hear me; this is a serious matter. If you keep playing deaf, I'll truly get mad."

The aloof old man glanced sideways at the sword-carrying youth and sneered, "Wenzi, you just want to earn money to transform this tea shop into a proper tea house, don't you? Then you'll have an excuse to hire two delicate young women as assistants. You're simply mad for women, aren't you? With a few coppers, you could visit a top-tier brothel. Or find some decent-looking private prostitutes—you'd have plenty to spare. Too bad private prostitutes don't offer the same 'first-time' bonus as official courtesans."

The young man, Wen, slammed his large bowl down on the table. "Old Huang," he fumed, "what bull are you spouting? What kind of talk is that?!"

The old man smiled mischievously. "Well, aren't you something, daring to slam the table in front of me? Believe it or not, I'll toss you into the Northern Mang imperial palace and let that old hag there have a taste of something new."

The sword-wielding youth, his skin prickling with goosebumps, forced an ingratiating smile. "Old Huang, we depend on each other, isn't that precious? Aren't you hungry? I'll go make you a bowl of my specialty scallion noodles."

The old man, entirely unmoved, waved his hand. "Go bring that mimicking simpleton inside."

The young man quickly finished his noodles, leaving not a single strand, even licking the bottom of the bowl with a look of lingering desire. He then went to the door, took down the birdcage, and on the way, decided to teach the parrot some new tricks. "Master?" he prompted, and it replied, "Eunuch!" "Young lady?" he tried, and it still squawked, "Eunuch!" He cursed loudly. "Master!" he insisted, and it continued, "Eunuch!" — a string of "eunuchs" following his exasperated curses. The young man reached into the cage to teach the stubborn feathered creature a lesson, and the green parrot flapped, shedding a few feathers. The old man said helplessly, "That simpleton is already in its sixties in parrot years; it hardly has any feathers left to shed. Why are you getting so worked up over an animal?"

He tossed the birdcage onto the table. The young man tried several sitting postures but found none comfortable. He then simply grabbed another long bench and, mimicking Old Huang's peculiar method, propped his head and feet on the bench, leaving his body suspended in mid-air. With hands clasped behind his head, he stared blankly at the ceiling, which, from its past as a roasted goose shop, was still a grimy, greasy layer. The young man sighed, "Old Huang, I'm feeling quite melancholic right now. How about another martial world story? You always love to tell them."

The old man, notoriously grumpy and dismissive of everyone, replied ill-humoredly, "Nothing to say."

The young man, with his familiar, roguish disposition that adapted to any situation, his eyes suddenly warmed, and he spoke without hesitation: "I know you, Old Huang, as an old jianghu veteran, must have many interesting stories tucked away. If you prefer to keep them to yourself, then don't tell them. Anyway, I, Wen Hua, am also a man with stories. Back when my brother and I roamed the martial world, two young men like us, we were so restless we could've grilled pancakes on our behinds! So, it was always hard to sleep late at night. And what do you do when you can't sleep? You inevitably end up talking about women.

My brother was incredibly handsome, making me quite jealous. On ordinary days, when I'd pass through a village and knock on doors to ask for water, those annoying women would act as if a single glance from me would defile their chastity. They'd refuse to give water, slamming the door shut right after opening it. Heh, but if Xuzi went, they'd be like wolves and tigers, pulling and tugging, not just offering water but even wanting to give themselves! Ah, well, I can't blame Xuzi for being good-looking; it's how his parents made him. Nothing to complain about, nothing to envy. Every time I saw a pretty girl, I'd get all worked up, thinking Xuzi must be like 'this one's no good, that one's no good.' So I'd hold my breath and tell myself that one day, I'd master swordplay and find a shapely female knight-errant to be my wife and spite Old Huang. But guess what? No matter how beautiful a woman is, she still has to eat, drink, relieve herself, and sleep, right? Even those high-and-mighty 'fairy sisters' in the martial world have to fart, don't they?"

The young man, getting carried away, slapped his thigh, tumbled onto the ground, dusted himself off, and then lay back down on the two benches, continuing, "When you see a woman, you mustn't be nervous, or you deserve to be a bachelor your whole life. Last time, when I was hurrying towards the Northern Liang border, my palms were sweating. Then I had a flash of inspiration and thought of Xuzi's method, and I truly wasn't nervous anymore. But when I imagined them farting, I laughed a bit stupidly, and I guess I didn't leave a good impression on that 'fairy sister.' Alas, it's probably like Xuzi said: 'bear paws and shark fins can't be in the same bowl.'

Later, by the lake, I met Xuzi while he was taking a shit, and he gave me an even more brutal tip: If I still felt nervous, not to worry, just imagine how those fairy female knight-errants would look while relieving themselves! Damn, at that moment, I almost sat my ass in my own pile of shit!"

The old man, who had been quiet, raised his head and nodded. "That's somewhat interesting," he said.

The wooden-sword-wielding youth chuckled. "Regardless of who Xuzi was, when we roamed the martial world together, we were truly dirt poor. We only had a toothless old servant and a scrawny old horse, thin as a bamboo pole, swaying in the wind—these were our only two possessions. But he was terribly vain and loved to put on airs, pretending to be a rich young master in front of others. Whenever we encountered outsiders, he would immediately have the old servant pose as his family. Xuzi never exposed me and even helped me, helping to trick those young women on spring outings into willingly acting as my study companions. Several times, if I hadn't messed up and revealed myself, I would have succeeded. How can you now mock me for still being a virgin!

So, I think of those wealthy young masters who make fair-weather friends; they seem generous, but compared to their family fortunes, it's just a drop in the ocean. Xuzi was different. Whatever he had, he was willing to share half with me. If I were starving, he might even give it all. That's why I, Wen Hua, will only ever recognize him as a true brother through thick and thin. Even if I get lucky and become a great hero, any friends I make after becoming rich won't be true brothers. Even if I call them brothers to their faces, they'll still be ten streets behind Xuzi."

For some reason, having arrived in Liuxia City in Northern Mang, Wen Hua, the wooden-sword-wielding youth, came to his senses and asked curiously, "Old Huang, I find it strange. When ordinary powerful figures make an appearance, they usually leap onto rooftops, shake mountains and rivers with their qi, or slaughter in all directions. They act embarrassed if they don't show off their power. It's like when a woman gets a big belly and announces she's pregnant! But what's the deal with you, Old Huang? Your sword teachings seem quite legitimate, yet you have pitifully few coppers on you. Why don't you put on any display at all? Are you hiding something? Will a troop of government soldiers suddenly rush in one day and wipe us out?"

The old man remained silent.

Wen Hua said with some regret, "It seems Old Huang also has some unspeakable sorrow. I understand, I won't pick at old wounds."

The old man chuckled lightly and chided, "You don't even have as much experience as that mimicking simpleton. What could you possibly understand?"

Wen Hua stood up and retorted angrily, "Old Huang, you can insult my looks, but you cannot insult my knowledge!"

The old man waved his sleeve. "Scram!" he said.

Wen Hua immediately changed his expression, grinning. "Old Huang, your martial world stories are more interesting than those scholars'. I'll casually give you a back massage and shoulder rub."

The old man, maintaining a stern face, said, "If you want to hear it, fine, but make me a bowl of noodles first."

Wen Hua's mouth twitched. He went to the kitchen to make a bowl of scallion noodles, deliberately adding fewer scallions. He then respectfully carried it to the old man's table. The latter stirred the noodles with his chopsticks, finding even fewer scallion bits, and Wen Hua could only offer a foolish, simple smile. The old man, not bothering to quibble over details, slowly said, "In the martial world, there was a very famous and unparalleled swordsman who would always bathe and burn incense before drawing his sword to kill."

After waiting for a long time, seeing the old man only focused on eating his noodles, and knowing Old Huang's cunning and stinginess, Wen Hua thought he wouldn't tell the story until he finished eating. So he quickly urged, "And then?"

The old man didn't keep him in suspense. He lowered his head, ate his noodles, and said, "Then, one day, he got slaughtered."

Wen Hua rolled his eyes, only able to curse inwardly.

The old man continued blandly, "In the martial world, there was a young, beautiful female knight-errant from a prestigious sect. Every time she traveled the jianghu, she attracted countless young, handsome admirers who praised her. Then, then... the martial world learned she was sleeping with her junior sister. It turned out she didn't love men; she loved women."

This time, the old man was a bit more charitable with his story, prompting a response.

Wen Hua chuckled mischievously, "It's just that she hadn't met a charming, young, handsome swordsman like me, which is why she went astray."

The old man picked at his noodles with his chopsticks, slurped one into his mouth, swallowed, and then slowly said, "In the martial world, there was a highly respected old senior who, on his seventieth birthday, experienced a double joy: his grandson got married, and the old senior himself took a beautiful concubine even younger than his grandson's wife. And then... there was no 'then'."

Wen Hua said sheepishly, "There are even such shameless old martial arts seniors. How are young people like us, just entering the martial world, supposed to compete with those old bastards for women?"

The old man finished his last mouthful of noodles. He was an old fellow extremely disciplined in his eating and daily habits; his chopsticks, placed on the edge of the bowl, would be precisely one inch from it, not off by a single hair, even if measured with a ruler. He picked up his erhu again and said, "Therefore, neither the imperial court nor the martial world likes to see those old geezers shamelessly compete with the young. It's one thing if they squat in the latrine and don't take a shit, but not even a fart? It'd be more reasonable if they just ate the shit if they're going to stay in the latrine! It's like an old farmer planting a good seedling in the field and then running off to dig a vegetable patch somewhere else. What does he rely on for a good harvest? Besides heaven, he also needs fertilizer. That's where the shit from the latrine comes in."

No wonder the old man liked Xuzi's line of reasoning; they shared a similar wonderful subtlety. It's just that Wen Hua's expression was a bit strange; he thought to himself, 'This guy just finished his noodles, and he's an old geezer himself, yet he's talking about latrines, shit, and farts – quite inappropriate.'

Old Huang smiled, looked out the window, and said in a bland tone, "'Siding with family over reason' sounds easy and cathartic, but when injustice or humiliating things truly fall upon your own head, then you realize that the greatest thing in heaven and earth is still 'reason,' not 'emotion' or 'righteousness.' However, adhering to reason and propriety easily makes one an isolated person, which is not as easy as simply relying on emotion and righteousness."

Wen Hua, overwhelmed and rolling his eyes, said, "Old Huang, don't tell me these things."

The old man laughed, "These are things people would beg for, yet you're still picky, always choosing the leanest problem. You're not as good as those crop seedlings from before. Your eyesight is no good; your sword practice will also be sloppy your whole life."

Wen Hua didn't like to hear that, so he changed the topic and asked, "Old Huang, haven't you seen a greater genius in sword comprehension than me?"

The old man sneered, "Oh, have I?"

Wen Hua chuckled wryly, picked up the empty bowl and chopsticks, and was about to take them back when the old man suddenly asked, "Do you still remember what I told you? That after you master swordplay, you have to do one thing: kill someone?"

Wen Hua paused, then said, "Of course. When that time comes, even if you told me to take my sword and kill the old emperor, I wouldn't have a second thought."

The old man waved his hand, urging him off. "Killing an emperor may not be as interesting as the one you're supposed to kill," he said.

Wen Hua wasn't one to overthink things or be bothered by trivialities. Though he was playful and joking with Old Huang in his free time, when he genuinely practiced his sword, he became wildly obsessive. That ruthless determination, whether born with him or carried over from a past life, was secretly admired even by Old Huang, a man of such high standards.

Wen Hua, the wooden-sword-wielding youth, walked a few steps, then abruptly turned around, a look of embarrassment on his face. He asked, "Old Huang, that parrot of yours, squawking 'Eunuch!' all day... could it be that it used to be a eunuch from the Eight States of the Spring and Autumn period? Has it seen His Majesty the Emperor and the Empress?"

Old Huang took a deep breath, a smile on his face.

Wen Hua turned and ran.

The old man leaned back in his chair by the window, the birdcage resting on the table. The parrot inside was old; though a treasured species with green feathers, a red beak, and dark eyebrows—the kind previously only kept and amused in the imperial palace—it was worthless now, as it could die at any moment. Like a farmer who, with a hoe here and a hammer there, knew every tool and trade, the old man narrowed his eyes, drowsily muttering, "Beyond a thousand mountains, a thousand more mountains are the empire itself. To behold unique beauty among all the court ladies is true beauty. But beauty and empire are rarely complete; emotion and reason are even harder to reconcile... Compared to these women, how many men in the world are castrated?"

The parrot began to chatter again, "Eunuch! Eunuch!..."

(Final Recommendation)

Ding dong ding dong! (Note: CCTV opening music) This is a breaking news update from the host: The online game "Xianmobian," jointly developed by 138Kanshu.com, Wuzui, and Xingcai Network, will launch its closed beta test today at 2 PM. Many authors from 138Kanshu.com will join the game at that time. What will happen when these "great god" authors, renowned in the 138Kanshu.com literary sphere, battle online in a game? It will surely excite 138Kanshu.com fans to follow their favorite authors into the game and join the Sect Domination Tournament! Reach a certain level to receive varying amounts of Zongheng Coins, as well as digital prizes like iPads, and even the super grand prize of an exclusive interaction with beautiful models! Finally, the Demon Slayer Sect is very powerful! If you wish to join, visit the Zongheng Xianmobian special zone at: xbzongheng.co. For any questions, come and chat in the Xianmobian readers' group! Group number: 67407091. The QT room is now open! Fenghuoxizhuhou's official QT room number is [number].138Kanshu.com Text: Readers are welcome to log in and read the full text.