Chapter 521: The Confucian Saint

At the border of the Youliang and Li provinces, there was a roadside tavern at the crossroads of a post station.

The proprietress who ran the tavern was still charming and graceful, a woman of a certain age, and passing men with wandering eyes would often strip her bare with their gazes.

Today, the atmosphere had changed; the proprietress was staring fiercely at a young man of extraordinary handsomeness.

The man was alone, sitting there, having ordered a pot of wine but requesting three wine cups. She said there were no cups, that her shop only used large bowls, and he smiled and said that bowls would do as well.

The woman leaned against the neighboring table, looking at the handsome young man drinking Beiliang Wine from a bowl, with the other two bowls set aside. She thought to herself, he doesn't look like he's missing someone he used to drink with; could he be waiting for someone?

Before long, several more tables of guests arrived one after another, looking quite bold and heroic, mostly martial artists carrying swords and sabers. The proprietress beamed with joy; this was not a common sight in the past.

As the guests grew more numerous, the benches were all filled, and people in the back kept asking for wine, forcing the proprietress to bring out several long-unused stools. Those men didn't find it shabby, only focusing on drinking from large bowls and eating large chunks of meat.

Because of this, the handsome man occupying a table alone became particularly conspicuous, yet no one came to share his table; his bearing was truly extraordinary, making it hard not to suspect he was some young master from a noble family.

There were also quite a few people secretly sizing up the young man, discussing in low voices.

"Do you think it's him?"

"Impossible. Although this guy looks handsome, he's handsome within reason and law. That one is the number one on the Rouge List, a beautiful man who puts a whole crowd of peerless beauties to shame; he's unimaginably handsome. Besides, that's a person like a celestial being, untainted by dust, who should be drinking nectar and jade dew; how could he stop at a tavern like this?"

"That's true."

"It's said that he also carries a very long broken sword, the very one the Zhao Family Emperor used to assassinate the Beiliang King. This time, he is going to return the sword, and the sword never leaves his side."

"Sigh, the only thing I'm worried about now is whether that Murong Wudi will pass through here. I missed the battle at the East Sea and the Huishan Snow Gathering; if I could witness such a peerless figure in this lifetime, it would be worth living ten years less."

The proprietress added wine to the tables, listening to the guests' conversation, and vaguely understood why there were so many guests today.

Someone was passing through this place, and these guests had all come to witness that person's demeanor.

And if she guessed correctly, that person should be the legendary Martial Arts Alliance Leader, Murong Tonghuang.

Although the proprietress didn't know much about the world of martial arts, she had heard guests coming and going talk about that god-like figure. Even her own little child knew of Murong Tonghuang. A group of children playing house would all scramble and fight to be the Alliance Leader Murong who swept across the martial arts world.

It is said that after Alliance Leader Murong crushed the one-hundred-thousand-strong army of Northern Mang at Hutou City, he was going to Taian City to return the sword; could it be that he was passing through here?

If that person were willing to drink a bowl of Green Ant Wine here, then from now on, she wouldn't have to worry about business for this tavern. She immediately laughed at herself and shook her head.

What a whimsical thought; to think that a god-like figure would grace such a roadside tavern—it would be too beneath him.

After greeting a round of guests, the proprietress was just about to rest and admire the young man's profile when she saw two more people walking toward the tavern.

It was an old man and a young boy.

The boy was named Gou Youfang, once the most common, bottom-of-the-barrel person in Wudi City.

He was unwilling to live such a mediocre life forever, and after that City Lord Wang passed away, the boy left Wudi City to travel everywhere.

Until one day, the boy met the hunched old man beside him, and they traveled together until they arrived here.

Regarding the old man, the boy only knew his surname was Zhang, so he called him Grandpa Zhang.

The old man's withered, aged face never had much expression; he was a rigid old pedant who didn't smile, like the strictest schoolteacher, and he had a belly full of knowledge, as vast as the sea. Fortunately, although the boy had never learned to read or write, he was naturally simple and polite, so the old and young got along quite harmoniously.

While walking, the boy would mutter to himself: "Master Says, the Dao of heaven and earth is broad, thick, high, bright, leisurely, and long-lasting."

Similar words and phrases were all taught to the boy by the old man while they were on the road.

The boy felt these words made a lot of sense, even though he didn't understand exactly what sense they made. So he memorized them by rote; if he didn't understand, he didn't understand—there would be a day when he would.

The old man listened to Gou Youfang's muttering and couldn't help but sigh: "Master Says, Master Says, Master Says... so I have said so many things in the past."

The boy named Gou Youfang said confusedly: "Grandpa Zhang, what did you say? I didn't hear clearly just now."

The usually strict and rigid old man rarely revealed a smile and patted the boy's head: "Youfang, you can be considered my closed-door disciple; just call me Teacher."

Although the boy was a bit dazed, he sincerely called out, "Teacher Zhang."

The old man's expression returned to calm: "You have many senior fellow apprentices; the youngest one is named Huang Longshi."

The boy asked curiously: "Is it the Huang Longshi who shares the same name as the Great Demon of the Spring and Autumn, Huang Sanjia?"

The old man smiled and dismissed it, looking at the tavern not far away: "Since you are my disciple, there must be a master-disciple ceremony; I know you are poor, so just treat me to a bowl of wine."

Gou Youfang reached into his pocket, scratched his head, and felt a bit embarrassed: "Teacher, I don't seem to have any copper coins left."

"Haha." The old man laughed: "Alright, I won't have you treat me; someone else will."

The person treating them was none other than the young man occupying a table alone.

The young man greeted the two from afar to sit down, poured a cup of wine for each of them, and looked at the old man with a smile: "You really came."

The old Confucian scholar said calmly: "I naturally should come."

The young man chuckled: "I looked for you once back at Shangyin Academy, but you ended up playing the coward."

The old Confucian scholar said calmly: "I have been in the human world for eight hundred years, and this is the first time I've heard someone call me that."

"It does seem a bit inappropriate, but so what?" The young man's tone was flat, yet sharp and revealing.

"A good 'so what'." The old Confucian scholar remained as light as a breeze, even showing a trace of faint appreciation: "Only someone like you would dare not take the people of Heaven seriously."

"People of Heaven are also people, just standing a bit higher; a bunch of sycophants and cowards, how can they compare to the old gentleman guarding the human world for eight hundred years."

Yu Liancheng picked up the wine bowl, his black hair flying, and his whole person suddenly exuded an aura as deep as an abyss and as vast as the sea; the corners of his mouth lifted slightly, curling into an arc.

"Saint Zhang, come, let's have one."

The wine bowl passed through the air, slowly heading toward the old man.

But at this moment, all the guests in the tavern felt as if they heard the whistling of the wind.

Especially Gou Youfang, who was sitting to the side; he was in a trance, feeling as if the wine bowl in the black-clothed man's hand had undergone a world-shaking change.

The wine bowl was still a wine bowl, but it had become very large, with no end in sight. What was in the bowl was not wine, but the water of the East Sea; the vast and boundless East Sea seemed to have been poured into the wine bowl.

The wine liquid swayed slightly in the bowl, clearly inaudible, but to Gou Youfang's ears, it turned into raging waves, making him recall his experience from two years ago—alone on a small boat, when the weather suddenly changed, the East Sea became furious, giant waves reached the sky, pressing down like a mountain collapsing, and he had nearly lost his life.

"Benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trust; the benevolent person enjoys mountains."

The old Confucian scholar, known as the "Saint of the Zhang Family," also raised his wine cup, his movements very slow; if the black-clothed man's wine bowl was a bowl of the East Sea, then the old Confucian scholar's cup was a mountain peak whistling as it smashed down.

Bang!

The wine bowls collided, and the wind was light and the clouds were calm.

The guests in the full tavern, however, only felt as if a thunderclap had struck in their ears.

An invisible force surged outward from where the wine bowls collided, and the wine table shattered into powder in an instant; however, before it could spread, the man in black grabbed at the air, crushing the force and merely whipping up a violent gale within the tavern.

"Worthy of being a Confucian Saint, truly a fine technique."

"Murong Wudi is also truly invincible."