"All of my problems right now can be traced back to Hua Jiu Xing Zhe's hidden treasure. If I can find it, all my difficulties will be solved. If I can't, these troubles will drastically slow my cultivation speed. I'll be left far behind by my peers right at the start of my journey. It's baffling—I've spent over a week trying to attract a Wine Worm, and yet nothing has worked."
Fang Yuan furrowed his brow, lost in bitter contemplation. He couldn't even tell what the food in his mouth tasted like.
Just then, a burst of commotion reached his ears, breaking through his thoughts.
Fang Yuan looked toward the source. At the central table, six hunters had gathered around, already reeking of alcohol, their atmosphere blazing like fire, every one of them red-faced and flushed.
"Brother Zhang, come on, have another drink!"
"Brother Feng, we all admire your skill—taking down a black-skin wild boar all by yourself, now that's a true man! You have to drink this one. Refusing would be an insult to us brothers."
"I thank you all for your kindness, but I really can't drink anymore."
"Brother Feng can't drink anymore—does that mean you don't think this wine is good enough? Waiter, get over here! Bring us the good stuff!"
Their voices grew louder and louder. Clearly, all the hunters were quite drunk.
The waiter hurried over. "Gentlemen, we do have fine wine, but it's rather expensive."
"What, you think we can't pay?!" At these words, several hunters leaped to their feet, glaring at the waiter. They were either burly and broad-shouldered, or lean and tough, radiating the fierce air unique to mountain folk.
The waiter quickly tried to smooth things over, protesting, "I would never dare look down on such distinguished heroes—it's just that this wine really is expensive. A single jar is worth two Yuan Stones!"
The hunters all froze.
Two Yuan Stones—that was no small sum. It was enough to cover an ordinary family's living expenses for two months. Though hunters earned more than common folk from their trade—sometimes a single black-skin wild boar was worth half a Yuan Stone—hunting also carried its risks. More than once, the hunter ended up as the prey.
Spending two Yuan Stones on a single jar of wine? Far too steep a price for a hunter.
"That expensive, really?"
"You're not pulling our leg, are you?"
The hunters blustered, but their voices had gone a bit hollow, tinged with the embarrassment of losing face.
The waiter hastened to insist he wasn't lying.
Among the hunters, the one called Brother Feng saw the situation turning sour and quickly stepped in to smooth things over. "Brothers, let's not spend any more. I've had enough for today. Let's save this wine for another time."
"What kind of talk is that, brother!"
"That won't do..."
The other hunters protested, but their voices faded and they slumped back into their seats one by one.
The waiter was a shrewd fellow. Seeing how things stood, he knew the deal wasn't happening. Still, this was hardly the first time he'd witnessed such a scene. He was about to withdraw when, unexpectedly, a young man's voice drifted over from the corner table: "Heh, how amusing. All that bluster for nothing. If you can't afford the wine, keep your mouths shut and slink off somewhere!"
One of the hunters, stung by the remark, sprang to his feet with a shout: "Who says we can't afford it! Waiter, bring that jar over—I'll pay you the Yuan Stones! What's two stones, anyway!"
"Right away, sir!" The waiter hadn't expected the sudden reversal. He responded at once, turned, and hurried off to bring back a jar of wine.
The jar was only half the size of a normal one, but the moment the clay seal was cracked open, a clean, mellow fragrance of wine drifted out, filling the entire dining hall.
The old man sitting alone by the window, nursing his own drink, turned his head at the scent, his gaze settling on the jar.
It was indeed fine wine.
"Gentlemen, I'm not boasting—this is premium Green Bamboo Wine. Our inn is the only establishment in the entire stockade that carries it. Just smell that aroma!" The waiter spoke while drawing a deep breath of his own, his face brimming with enjoyment and satisfaction.
Fang Yuan felt a stir of interest. The waiter wasn't exactly exaggerating.
Guye Stockade had three taverns, all selling ordinary rice wine or murky brews of much the same variety. Having bought wine every day for the past week in order to attract a Wine Worm, Fang Yuan knew the market well.
The hunters stared at the jar before them, every one of them hooked, noses twitching, Adam's apples bobbing.
The hunter who had impulsively bought the wine wore an even more colorful expression—now tinged with regret.
That single jar was worth two Yuan Stones!
"I was too hasty, and now I've bought this wine. And this waiter—he was way too quick to deliver it. The seal's already cracked; I can't even return it now."
The more he thought about it, the more his heart ached. He wanted to back out, but his pride wouldn't let him.
In the end, he slapped the table and forced a grin. "Damn right, this wine is good! Brothers, drink up! Today, this wine is on me!"
Right at that moment, the young man at the corner table let out another derisive snort: "Just one small jar like that—how is that enough for six people? If you've really got the nerve, buy a few more!"
The hunter's veins bulged at the taunt. He shot to his feet in fury, eyes blazing at the young man who had spoken: "You little brat, you've got a lot to say, don't you? Fine—step out here and spar with your big brother a couple rounds!"
"Oh? Then I'll step out." The youth actually rose to his feet at these words, a sinister smile on his face as he emerged from the shadows of the corner.
He was tall and lean, with a pale complexion, dressed in a dark blue martial outfit that looked clean and sharp. A sapphire-blue headband adorned his head, and his upper body wore a short tunic that left his slender shoulders bare. He wore long trousers and bamboo-woven shoes, with leg wrappings around his calves.