Chapter 235: Ambush (Thanks for the tips, posted late, still have daytime)

In the time that followed, Niu Dingtian began a major internal cultivation revision, and his progress was truly a thousand miles a day.

Perhaps to avoid taboo, A Bi stopped delivering meals here and instead, every few days, came with A Zhu to bring some snacks; the three of them sat in the pavilion, drinking tea and chatting.

Niu Dingtian gradually learned that Murong Fu had been traveling abroad for most of the past few years, and the two young girls could hardly be seen even once every half month.

He also learned that the Manduo Villa, famed for its buried flower fertilizer, lay just over ten li to the southeast.

With such lovely companions, three months passed in the blink of an eye.

That morning, a fine drizzle fell from the sky. By noon, the rain grew heavier, continuously beating the green lotuses, and the lake surface turned a vast, misty white.

In the pavilion—

The fire was out, the tea had cooled, and Niu Dingtian sat upright on his chair, eyes closed in contemplation, his black garments making his fair, handsome face appear even whiter.

Half an hour had passed since the appointed time with A Zhu and A Bi, yet no sign of the two appeared in the lotus pond.

Even knowing it might be due to the heavy rain, Niu Dingtian couldn't help feeling a pang of melancholy deep inside.

During those three months, it was all cultivation, cultivation, and cultivation; the only relaxed, pleasant moments were tea and idle talk with the two women.

Soft Jiangnan speech, graceful ladies, two understanding "talking flowers" placed with Murong Fu seemed somewhat wasteful.

The moment that thought fell, the corner of Niu Dingtian's brow twitched slightly, he slowly opened his eyes and fixed his gaze on the depths of the lotus pond.

A small boat.

The familiar small boat.

However, aboard the boat was not a familiar person. Besides an old man rowing at the stern, there was a gaunt middle‑aged man in a gray cloth robe.

One hand held a sword, the other an umbrella, his face bearing a stubborn, perverse expression.

"What kind of hero do you think I am, that I could lure my A Zhu and A Bi sisters to run here often? Turns out I'm just a freeloader, a soft‑meal pretty boy."

The boat had not yet left the lotus pond when the middle‑aged man shot a sideways glance at Niu Dingtian in the pavilion, sizing up the pavilion and hut on the shoal, and let out a sneering chuckle.

Freeloader, huh…

Niu Dingtian was momentarily stunned.

It seemed indeed he was a freeloader, the soft‑meal that A Zhu and A Bi had taken from the Murong Family.

Furrowing his brow in thought, Niu Dingtian looked at the middle‑aged man at the bow, gave a slight smile, and said, "If you don't mind, would you like to come up for a cup of tea?"

The small boat had drawn near the lake shoal, and the middle‑aged man seemed about to bend his knee and leap ashore; hearing the words, he was taken aback.

He examined Niu Dingtian's fair face, then burst into a loud laugh, squinting as he said, "No, no, you let me go up, but I refuse to go up."

Having said that, he held the umbrella and sword, standing still at the bow, glaring defiantly at Niu Dingtian.

"Mr. Bao San, Bao Butong?" Niu Dingtian mused, asking, his mind already certain.

Bao Butong ignored the remark, let out three sneering chuckles, and snorted, "If I can't go up, I won't. I'm here today to give you a warning."

"In the future, pee on yourself more often; a toad can't eat swan meat, and the Murong Family's maidens aren't something you can just think about."

Seeing Niu Dingtian's pale, tender skin, looking barely past his coming-of-age, Bao Butong instantly lost interest in striking.

However, thinking that this kid was taking advantage of the master's absence to flirt with the two beauties inside the manor made him feel a surge of disgust, and he couldn't help insulting him.

"Oh? If I thought that, would Mr. Bao San be ready to kill me?"

Niu Dingtian squinted, lifted the cool tea before him and took a light sip, saying calmly.

Considering the soft‑meal share of A Zhu and A Bi, he had already given face once.

If anyone fails to appreciate the courtesy, he doesn't mind giving them a lasting lesson.

Outside the pavilion, the heavy rain continued, drumming loudly on the lake's surface.

Hearing this, Bao Butong's face darkened, and he shouted, "What are you? How dare you think I'm worthy of killing you?"

Having finished speaking, he leapt forward, lunging into the pavilion, one hand gripping the umbrella, the other drawing the unsheathed long sword to slash across Niu Dingtian's cheek.

If an ordinary person were hit there, it would shatter their teeth.

"Bang!"

But the sword sheath was only half a foot from his cheek, and could not advance further; looking closely, it was already firmly grasped in Niu Dingtian's hand.

"Kid, do you know martial arts?"

Bao Butong couldn't help exclaiming in surprise.

According to A Zhu and A Bi, this guy should be a pretty boy with no martial skill.

"Let go!"

Bao Butong roared.

But the sword sheath seemed bound by an iron band, impossible to budge even a hair.

Seeing he couldn't break free, Bao Butong's face went dim, he folded the umbrella and threw it outward; the umbrella pierced the heavy rain and landed steadily on the small boat in the lake.

Then his body twirled, stepping back two paces, emitting a chilling, intimidating gleam.

The long sword unsheathed without hesitation, whooshing a fierce gale as it sliced horizontally toward Niu Dingtian's neck.

"Ding—"

A metallic clang rang out, sparking a flash of fire.

A kitchen knife?

Seeing the object in Niu Dingtian's hand, Bao Butong couldn't help being stunned.

The back of the kitchen knife blocked his blade straight on; no matter how he applied force, the long sword could not press any closer.

It was a kitchen knife!

Bao Butong's face flushed red, and he instantly twisted his wrist, swinging the sword down in a sharp slash.

Niu Dingtian lifted the tea to his lips with one hand, while his other hand turned with his sword, staying close, and amid a screeching "zhī zhī" sound, again deftly blocked the long sword.

His movements, front and back, flowed like clouds and water—truly relaxed, effortless, and graceful.

"So you're a pig‑in‑sheep's‑clothing type!" Bao Butong shouted loudly.

He was about to kick the table in front of him, or rather the wooden board made of interlaced branches. Before his foot could connect, his wrist went numb and the long sword suddenly slipped from his hand.

Then a flash of white light surged, and a blade edge pressed straight against his face.

Bao Butong froze instantly, sniffing the fishy smell on the kitchen knife, and trembled, "You… who exactly are you?"

At such a young age to possess this skill, even his family's young master is no better.

"For the sake of A Zhu and A Bi's honor, I let you insult me earlier, but if you destroy my pavilion, you will die today."

Ignoring Bao Butong's ashen, shifting complexion, Niu Dingtian gave a casual glance.

Though the room is shabby, it was built single‑handed by me, the fruit of my hardship.

I may destroy it myself, but no one else may.

Bao Butong, after hearing that, was about to retort, when a sudden pain in his waist struck; before he could react, he plunged with a splash into the lake.

Feeling the icy lake water, Bao Butong felt a sudden shock in his heart.

When his head broke the surface, he saw Niu Dingtian, who had somehow boarded the boat, holding the umbrella he brought and eyeing him from the prow.

"I'll take the boat; Mr. Bao San, go back to where you came from and swim back yourself."

Looking at Bao Butong in the water, Niu Dingtian said calmly.

Bao Butong's complexion turned ashen in an instant, gritting his teeth, "I am unlucky for my skill is inferior! You humiliate me like this, truly intending to oppose the Gusu Murong Family?"

Niu Dingtian smiled faintly and said nothing.

"Oh, also…"

"A warning to Mr. Bao San: if you dare touch this piece of wood of mine, I will burn Murong Fu's Yanzi Wu."

Having given Bao Butong a warning, Niu Dingtian paid him no further attention.

He felt the silver in his pocket, still there, and looked toward the old man rowing at the stern, saying:

"Set sail for Wu Xi Cheng."

"This…"

The old man hesitated.

"Set sail."

Niu Dingtian's face was like dark water.

Thus, under Bao Butong's resentful gaze, the small boat drifted slowly into the lotus pond. Along the way, the heavy rain continued, and the world between water and sky was a white haze.

Half an hour later

The little boat leisurely arrived at the dock outside Wu Xi Cheng; the rain had ceased, and a cool breeze brushed the shore, carrying damp mist.

He entered the city gate.

Niu Dingtian strolled casually, wandering through Wu Xi Cheng, admiring the bustling market while looking for a place to drink.

The streets were crowded with pedestrians; after passing several pleasure houses, he reached the entrance of a tavern and stopped abruptly.

"Song He Lou…"

Staring at the dark golden sign above the door, Niu Dingtian couldn't help but reflect; if his memory served, this was the place where Qiao Feng drank.

Strong liquor was scarce in the Northern Song era, and for a wine‑loving immortal like himself, the sorghum wine inside was undoubtedly the best choice.

Smelling the bursts of wine and meat from within, Niu Dingtian did not hesitate and strode inside.

Upon reaching the upper floor, the clatter of chef's knives and the calls of waiters merged into a din.

"Sir, what would you like? Our little shop has braised meat, stir‑fried dishes, everything…"

The serving boy hurried over to attend, then grabbed the white cloth on his shoulder and vigorously wiped the oily, gleaming table.

"Two jars of the finest sorghum wine, and a plate of stir‑fried broad beans."

After taking his seat, Niu Dingtian ordered.

He disliked the greasy meat aroma; he only wanted to satisfy his palate and have a good drink.

Yet as soon as he spoke, the surrounding diners couldn't help but pause their utensils and look this way.

The boy smiled, "One jar weighs ten jin; can you handle that, sir?"

"Bring it on, give me a big bowl." Niu Dingtian placed ten taels of silver on the table.

The boy laughed, "Yes! Yes!"

Shortly after, five large bowls, two big jars of wine, and a plate of stir‑fried broad beans were brought.

The wine jars were too large for the guests to serve themselves, so the bartender enthusiastically filled five bowls and then waited quietly nearby.

In the vast tavern, diners expressed doubt, sneered, or showed a hint of anticipation; at this moment all eyes converged.

Only a woman in black at the middle table, her torso still turned this way, her face unseen, showed a slender figure with a tuft of jet‑black hair styled as a maiden's attire.

Niu Dingtian glanced there, lifted his wine bowl, leaned against the balcony rail, and downed bowl after bowl.

After five bowls of wine went down, the bartender hurried forward to pour more; as the alcohol rose, Niu Dingtian was suddenly struck by a wave of loneliness and let out a long sigh.

Not even a single drinking companion; had I known, I would have gone to the neighboring Qun Yu Courtyard…

"So exhilarating!"

"Great capacity!"

Seeing Niu Dingtian's delicate scholar appearance, yet he unflinchingly downed five bowls, more graceful than drinking water or tea; some hearty diners couldn't help but cheer.

Niu Dingtian picked up a few broad‑bean kernels, tossed them into his mouth, raised his wine bowl in a distant toast to several people, and drank it all again.

He didn't relish such flattery; it was merely that, lacking a tea companion, his heart felt empty and he wanted to drink to dispel the boredom.

"Great capacity!"

Those few quickly held their breath, downed the wine in their bowls, and the upper floor erupted in cheers again.

At that moment, the woman in black at the middle table couldn't help but glance back.

Her face was covered with a black cloth veil, revealing only two eye holes, her eyes shining like spots of lacquer.

Niu Dingtian smiled slightly, raised his wine bowl in a toast, and drained it in one gulp.

Have a drink!

Some diners laughed and joined in the clamor.

That's right, have a drink!

Such a generous young sir, won't you have a drink, miss?

Someone after another joined in the clamor.

They had been watching the woman for a long time, but her gaze was icy, devoid of any warmth, making one feel inexplicably uncomfortable; taking advantage of the atmosphere, they all rose up.

Niu Dingtian suddenly felt a bit regretful—what wine was he offering to a lady who hadn't even left her chamber?

Hmph~

The black-clad woman let out a cold snort.

At the same time, she snatched up a chopstick and hurled it fiercely toward him.

Although the chopstick came with fierce force, in the instant it brushed past his face, Niu Dingtian firmly clamped it between two fingers.

Good!

Great skill!

This time it wasn't intentional clamor, but genuine applause.

Among the diners, many were martial artists; few could fail to admire Niu Dingtian's ability to drink and his martial prowess.

But the black-clad woman, whose strike had missed, obviously didn't think so.

Seeing that she was about to grab the Asura Blade on the table, Niu Dingtian, knowing he was in the wrong and not wanting to spoil his drinking mood, quickly raised his bowl in a distant toast and said, "Earlier I was rash; miss, please forgive me—consider this bowl of wine as compensation."

Having said that, he drained the bowl in one gulp.

Now, no one around dared to speak rashly; being able to throw a chopstick with such force showed he was not someone to provoke.

The black-clad woman hesitated for a moment, suppressed the urge to draw her sword, gave Niu Dingtian a cold snort, threw some silver coins onto the table, and rose to leave downstairs.

As soon as she left, the upstairs became lively again.

Facing the hearty diners who came to flatter and toast him, Niu Dingtian refused none.

Until dusk, the diners at the tavern had all dispersed, and the wine on his table had run dry.

Sir, it's a total of one tael of silver; the proprietor said the fried broad beans are on the house, here's your change.

The waiter came smiling from the counter, handing over several pieces of small silver in both hands.

After downing two jars of sorghum liquor, Niu Dingtian felt a light-headed buzz, but aside from making a few extra trips to the privy that afternoon, he felt nothing much.

He glanced at the change on the table, waved his hand, and said lightly, "Put it on Niu Dingtian's tab; from now on, anyone who can drink two jars counts as mine."

Having said that, he rose somewhat unsteadily and went downstairs.

Walking to the dock outside the city, the hazy lake surface was again dotted with a fine drizzle, and the old boatman aboard had vanished.

Niu Dingtian boarded the boat, took up the oars himself, and rowed westward in the rain.

En route, the rain grew heavier, and the lake surface was a vast expanse of darkness.

Upon reaching the lakeside, it was already deep night, and Niu Dingtian was soaked through.

After securing the small boat and stepping onto the lakeshore, just as he was about to walk toward the grass hermitage, Niu Dingtian raised his brow and suddenly halted his steps.

Has the one surnamed Bao not left?

That thought crossed his mind, and he then stepped forward and pushed open the door.

Huh?

Whoosh!

The soft "huh" and the sound of something tearing through the air almost coincided; Niu Dingtian tilted his head slightly, and a crossbow bolt whizzed past his cheek, shooting outward.

Whoosh!

Whoosh!

Two more followed close behind, tearing through the dark night with two whistling sounds.

Niu Dingtian's eyes turned slightly cold.

Bang!

Bang!

In the instant the crossbow bolt bore down on his face, he channeled energy into a palm strike and slapped it onto the doorframe.

Immediately thereafter he leapt inside, straight to seize a neck. (End of chapter)