Chapter 85:
This Venerable One Isn’t Someone You Can Simply Get Rid of with a Mere Fifteen Hundred Gold
THE INNKEEPER’S APOLOGETIC voice drifted over. “Goodness, my lord is so generous. Five hundred, just like that—this humble one is flattered! But we must be courteous to all our guests if we hope to keep doing business, so we can’t hustle them all out, you see. How about this: We have a spacious private room within called the Returning Fog Pavilion. It’s reserved for honored guests of means like yourself. Let me show—”
She didn’t get to finish before there was a loud clatter of tables and chairs being overturned.
“What’s there to see?! Who the hell cares about your Rutting Fog Pavilion or Rutting Dog Pavilion? Goddamn, what kinda shitty name is that? We don’t want it! Get rid of them and we’ll pay you a thousand!”
“Oh, but my lord looks like such a scholarly, reasonable person. Surely he won’t force such a difficult decision on this humble one, yes?” The innkeep simpered coyly, lying through her teeth without so much as batting an eye. “There are simply too many guests here already. However, if my lord dislikes Returning Fog Pavilion, I can certainly offer another room. It’s a little smaller but just as elegant, and I’ll throw in an entertainment package with song and dance, free of charge. How’s that?”
“No! Absolutely not! Fifteen hundred! Tell ’em all to get lost!” the boorish voice bellowed. “Quit dragging your feet! Our young master will be mad if this place isn’t ready when he gets here!”
“Wow…” A thousand gold was a lot to the average person, but it was a laughable amount to Mo Ran, the once-emperor of the mortal realm. Even the trinkets he had casually thrown at Song Qiutong to humor her had been priceless treasures. And so his eyes were round with amusement as he chewed idly on his chopstick, laughing to Chu Wanning in a low voice. “Shizun, Shizun, check it out. That guy thinks he can get rid of us with a mere fifteen hundred.”
Chu Wanning shot him a look, then lifted the bamboo curtain to look downstairs.
There was a crowd in the main hall. They were dressed in plain clothes that concealed their sect, but every one of them had a high-quality blade glinting at their waist and a faewolf slobbering by their side. While the value of the blades was indeterminate, faewolves had a market price but were next to impossible to come by. Acquiring even one would be no small feat for a minor sect. If each of these people had a faewolf, they were clearly from a prestigious organization.
All the guests had stopped eating to stare apprehensively at the newcomers. It was so quiet inside the hall that one could have heard a pin drop.
Suddenly, a white blur flashed into the inn, bright as snow. There was a beat of silence as everyone took in what it was, then a burst of frantic clamoring as all of them scrambled away from it as the more easily spooked shrieked, “M-monster!”
It was a snow-white faewolf, as tall as three men, if not more. Its eyes were as crimson as blood, its coat as glossy as satin, and its fangs were the length of a grown man’s arm, glistening coldly.
Upon that massive, vicious beast sat a handsome young man with an arrogant expression. He reclined casually, one leg over the other, and he was dressed in a set of sleek hunting gear over scarlet raiment with gold-embroidered sleeves. He also wore a silver helmet emblazoned with a lion swallowing the sun, and a lock of red tassel that hung from its crown. His weapon, a jasper bow, laid over his knees.
As soon as the showy cultivators saw him, they all dropped to one knee with hands pressed to their chests, saying in unison, “Greetings to the young master!”
“All right already.” The young man waved his hand, looking irritated. “You can’t even take care of a little thing like this. Greetings, my ass!”
“Pfft.” Mo Ran couldn’t help laughing quietly to Chu Wanning. “If they’re greeting an ass, then doesn’t that make him the ass?”
Chu Wanning didn’t dignify that with a response.
The young man sitting stop the soft fur at the faewolf’s nape looked mad indeed. “Who’s in charge of this dump?”
The innkeeper was frightened, but she stepped up with forced calmness, smiling apologetically. “That would be this humble one, my lord.”
“Oh.” He shot her a glance. “I’m going to stay here tonight, but I’m not used to having so many people around. Have a talk with them. I’ll make up for your losses.”
“But my lord…”
“I know that puts you in a tough spot. Here, take this and give each table an apology on my behalf. If anyone really doesn’t want to leave, let them be.” The young man tossed the innkeeper a pouch, which she opened to find filled with Nine-Turn Returning Pills that glittered golden within. These pills allowed the imbiber’s cultivation to grow in leaps and bounds for ten days, and a single pill cost more than two-thousand gold on the market. The innkeeper was at first shocked by this extravagant display, then discreetly breathed a sigh of relief. No cultivator would turn down something like these. With these pills, it would be perfectly acceptable to ask everyone to leave.
As the innkeeper went around the tables apologizing and offering compensation, the young man yawned before glaring down at his attendants. “All of you are so useless. Do I really have to do everything myself?”
The attendants looked at one another, after which there was a scattered response of, “Gongzi is ever brilliant and indomitable.”
The guests dispersed in short order. Other than Chu Wanning and Mo Ran, who didn’t care for money or cultivation pills, everyone accepted the recompense and left with zero complaints to go stay elsewhere.
“Gongzi, everyone else left, but two guests declined,” the innkeeper reported. “They say that as it’s already late and one of them is unwell, they don’t wish to go elsewhere…”
“Never mind them, no need to hassle an invalid.” The young man waved his hand, unconcerned. “As long as they don’t bother me.”
Chu Wanning, said invalid, listened to all this in silence.
The innkeeper beamed. “Gongzi is such a kind person,” she said warmly. “It’s getting late. Would Gongzi like to rest or have something to eat first?”
“I’m hungry,” the young man replied. “No need for rest, just bring me a meal.”
“Of course, my humble store will certainly provide Gongzi only the best. Our chef’s signature dishes are crab meatballs, savory pork trotter jelly—”
“Crabby meatballs?” The young man was obviously not from the south and didn’t much care for their cuisine. He blinked at the name of the dish, then waved his hand with a frown. “Pass. I can’t even begin to understand these ridiculous names.”
Maybe he was just some insanely rich merchant and not a cultured young master after all.
The innkeep paused for a long moment. “Then what would Gongzi like? We will do our utmost to serve.”
“Easy.” The young man gestured at his attendants. “Five catties of beef for each of them, ten for me, and then a catty of soju and two legs of lamb. That’ll do to tide us over. One shouldn’t eat too much late at night anyway.”
“Wow…” Mo Ran turned to Chu Wanning, meaning to make fun of the guy’s bottomless appetite. However, he found Chu Wanning staring fixedly at the young man with an indecipherable, hazy expression. “Shizun seems to know him,” Mo Ran said absently.
“Mn.”
Mo Ran had said it offhandedly and hadn’t expected Chu Wanning to actually confirm. He tripped over his own words in surprise. “Huh? Th-then who is he?”
“The only son of Rufeng Sect’s leader,” Chu Wanning said softly. “Nangong Si.”
Mo Ran fell silent. No wonder Chu Wanning knew him. He had once been with Linyi Rufeng Sect, after all. Of course he knew what the sect leader’s son looked like. It was also no wonder that Mo Ran himself didn’t know the guy, as by the time he had gone around butchering Rufeng Sect in his previous lifetime, this youth had already up and died from some illness.
At the time, he had assumed that this son of a sect leader must’ve been a sickly cripple, but the fellow in front of them was healthy, lively, and had ego to spare. How could a guy like this have died of illness? Some kind of sudden plague, maybe?
Downstairs, Nangong Si was happily digging in. He inhaled all ten catties of beef and both legs of lamb in no time at all and gulped down not a few bowls of wine on top of that. Mo Ran watched speechlessly from upstairs.
“Shizun, isn’t Rufeng Sect all about refinement and stuff? What’s up with their young master? He’s got even fewer manners than our Xue Mengmeng.”