Two Drunkards

As the wine was poured, many patrons in the tavern twitched their noses and sniffed around, trying to see where such an intoxicating aroma was coming from.

“What fragrant wine! Which distillery is it from?”

“Hiss, why does this scent smell somewhat like the Wang family’s ‘Immortal Drunk’? Only, it smells even more potent.”

“No, no, no, this is the flavor of ‘Immortal Drunk’ from over a decade ago—delicate and crisp, rich and mellow—”

“Shopkeeper, hurry and find a loafer to run an errand! Have the Wang Family Distillery send over a few jars of fine wine! Damn it, my mouth is craving it so bad a bird could fly out!”

“Fine wine, what fine wine!”

Patrons glanced around and spotted Nan Zhi and her two companions sitting in the corner. Some wanted to come over and strike up a conversation, but seeing the attire of Shen Luohe and Hua Xijian, none dared to rashly step forward.

—Even though they could not recognize the garments of demon suppressors, they still knew that the two were definitely not people to be trifled with.

“Fellow Daoist Nan, quickly drain this cup. Xijian is extremely stingy; normally, she won’t even let me touch this precious gourd of hers.”

Shen Luohe lifted his cup first and drained it in a single gulp. Instantly, a crimson flush washed over his face:

“Today, I suppose I am basking in your good fortune to finally get a taste.”

Hua Xijian cast him an indifferent glance, her face expressionless:

“Excessive drinking leads to mistakes; moderate sipping gladdens the heart, while heavy drinking harms the body. Does Senior Brother not understand this principle?

Whether eating or drinking, one must practice moderation. ‘Eat until seventy percent full, and drink only until thirty percent tipsy.’ You never remember that.”

Nan Zhi’s focus was not on the wine. She smiled and asked Hua Xijian, “Fellow Daoist Hua, your gourd is truly exquisite. I am ill-informed and have never seen anything like it before. Might I ask what kind of technique this is?”

Hua Xijian had a very high opinion of Nan Zhi. Though her face remained devoid of expression, a hint of warmth showed in her eyes:

“It is no formidable technique. Inside, there is actually a wine worm being nurtured. It is fed daily with fine wine. After waiting over a decade for the wine worm to mature, the creature will spit out fine wine.”

“Though this worm is of little practical use, it is rather rare.

These wine worms are born in the bitter cold of the far north, naturally existing as a male and female pair. My master, Daoist Qinglong, nurtured them for a long time, feeding them daily with spirit wine before finally obtaining two.

These worms were originally gifted by Master, who intended for Junior Sister and me to each have one.

The female worm was given to Junior Sister, so naturally, the male worm should have belonged to me.”

Having drunk the wine in his cup, Shen Luohe narrowed his eyes as he listened to the patrons nearby and replied casually:

“It’s just that previously, when I accompanied Master down the mountain to travel, we passed through a certain place without any money to eat. Master had no choice but to pawn that male worm to a wine-selling lady.

Later, after returning to the mountain to cultivate, Master never stopped brooding over the matter. Our journey this time is also meant to search for that worm and resolve that past karma on Master’s behalf.”

A wine-selling lady?

Could they be talking about Wanniang?

Nan Zhi’s heart stirred, but glancing at Shen Luohe’s apparent age, she dismissed the suspicion.

Wanniang had died thirty years ago, whereas Shen Luohe traveling with his master had happened a dozen or so years ago at the earliest.

The timeline did not match.

A dozen or so years ago, however, was precisely when the Wang Family Distillery began selling “Immortal Drunk.”

Could this be a coincidence?

Yet since it was their private affair, pressing further might provoke resentment.

Nan Zhi did not pursue the topic, instead urging them to drink and eat.

The three were of similar age and equal cultivation, and Shen Luohe and Hua Xijian held a favorable impression of Nan Zhi, keen on making friends.

Thus, though they had agreed on just a few modest drinks, cup followed cup as they drank, chatted, and talked about everything under the sun, thoroughly enjoying themselves.

As the alcohol took effect, Nan Zhi brought up the matter of the curse. Without mentioning that she was the one cursed, she claimed it was for a friend.

Shen Luohe had poor alcohol tolerance and was already slumping drunk against the table, his head resting on Hua Xijian’s shoulder. His drunken eyes were hazy, deep brown pupils half-lidded as if in thought:

“A curse? I have indeed heard sect elders mention such things. In the southern Ten Thousand Great Mountains, a desolate and wild land, reside the bloodlines of Chiyou, split into the Black and White Witches. The people there are proficient in witchcraft and especially adept at curses.

In our sect, there is a Senior Brother Li who hails from the Ten Thousand Great Mountains. I will send a flying letter back to ask him for you. I expect a reply will arrive before long.”

“Truly? Then I must thank you two fellow daoists first. Should we actually find a solution in the future, I will surely present a gift of gratitude.”

Nan Zhi was pleasantly surprised.

She had not expected that upon their first meeting, this senior-junior pair would not only share so much information with her, but also offer to help find a way to break the curse.

This was truly treating a casual acquaintance like a close confidant.

“Do not stand on ceremony.”

A blush identical to her senior brother’s rippled across Hua Xijian’s cheeks as she said sluggishly:

“Senior Brother Li is someone who loves delving into curse techniques, and he is very warmhearted. I am sure he will be willing to lend a hand.

In the future, we will all be comrades in the Demon Suppression Division, so it is only right to look out for one another…”

Hua Xijian gave a gentle shove to Shen Luohe’s head resting on her shoulder.

The latter blinked, his gaze finally regaining a sliver of focus as he muttered like someone talking in their sleep:

“The Shouzhou City God will take office in a few days. Fellow Daoist Nan first killed the Painted Skin and later slew the demon tiger, protecting the peace of the land. Even when the City God assumes his post, he will owe you a favor.

With Fellow Daoist Nan joining our Demon Suppression Division, I imagine this newly appointed Lord City God will make things somewhat easier for us out of consideration for you…”

A City God was about to take office?

The seat of Shouzhou’s City God had been vacant for a long time, with no god assuming the post.

Logically speaking, the appointment of a City God was enfeoffed by the Heavenly Court and selected by divine officials. Who would become the City God and when they would take office was something only Heaven should know.

Yet the Demon Suppression Division was aware of even such confidential intelligence?

Right at that moment, a muffled roll of thunder suddenly rumbled in the sky.

Hua Xijian snatched Shen Luohe’s mouth and clamped it shut firmly:

“Senior Brother, you are drunk.”

Shen Luohe also seemed to realize what he had just uttered. He tapped his head with the ribs of his fan:

“A slip of the tongue, a slip of the tongue! Just nonsense blurted out after drinking. The City God’s appointment is confidential; how could a little demon suppressor like me have any say in it?”

Nan Zhi was tactful. Pretending not to have heard anything, she smiled and finished the wine in her cup:

“It looks to me like Fellow Daoist Shen is drunk. Why doesn’t Fellow Daoist Hua take him back to rest first, and we can talk again tomorrow?”

“Very well.”

Hua Xijian calmly agreed. With clear eyes, she stood up straight—only to bash headfirst into the tavern’s wooden pillar the very next second.

The pillar seemed to tremble from the impact.

Nan Zhi: “...”

Turning to Shen Luohe, his state was not much better.

“Ohohoho! Fellow Daoist Nan has great capacity for liquor!”

As if experiencing a final burst of life, Shen Luohe leaped up, yelled at the top of his lungs, and then flopped straight back down, covering his face with his fan. His breathing became even.

He had actually fallen asleep.

Nan Zhi looked at Hua Xijian, then at Shen Luohe.

What prestigious sect, what composed rectitude, what resolute and decisive demon suppressors?

The rose-tinted filter shattered completely on the floor.

Before her were simply two drunkards.

“If you can’t drink, don’t drink.”

Nan Zhi sighed and resignedly stood up. Slinging one over each shoulder like a pair of pigs, she carried both of them off to an inn.

—If she had to partner with these two in the Demon Suppression Division going forward...

Nan Zhi was already beginning to worry about her future.