Chapter 115

“Rest assured, if the lead is genuine, I guarantee you a thousand taels of silver—I can easily afford that little sum.”

Lu Fang said solemnly.

The old drunkard shook his head repeatedly. “No, no—if you have no sincerity, then forget the deal.”

Saying this, he turned to leave.

At that moment, Hu Di arrived with a group of men; upon seeing Lu Fang, he bowed slightly and blocked the old drunkard’s path.

“This old bastard is causing trouble for no reason.”

The young man who had been harassed pointed angrily at the old drunkard.

The old drunkard showed no fear before the crowd, rolled his eyes, and said, “You Sand Camel Clan still dare show up? I told you I had a lead, but you ignored me outright—after all, it’s not your money you’re spending.”

Hu Di frowned and waved his hand; twenty or more of his men immediately surrounded the old drunkard—don’t underestimate the Sand Camel Clan’s local power.

Beside Hu Di stood a sixth-rank martial cultivator, several scattered eighth-rank subordinates, and Hu Di himself, a seventh-rank Confucian scholar.

Against the old drunkard, they wouldn’t be at any disadvantage.

After all, this small town was a relatively prosperous transit point on the border; without some real strength, no one could have built such a powerful presence here.

“Wait a moment.”

Lu Fang called out to the eager Hu Di and smiled. “This ascetic—do you know him well? I just watched his expression; he didn’t seem to be lying.”

Hu Di frowned slightly. “He’s said to have just arrived in town—I don’t know the details. Young Master Fang, judging by his appearance, he’s just trying to trick people out of silver.”

Lu Fang glanced at the old drunkard and shook his head. “Forget it, let him go. I was here just now—I saw everything unfold. I can’t blame him; it’s your men who wouldn’t even listen to his lead.”

That was what he said.

But Lu Fang also thought the old drunkard before him was unreliable. From what he knew, whether in his past life or in the Great Zhou Dynasty, ascetics didn’t behave like this.

At the very least, they shouldn’t be drinking.

He held a prejudice: alcoholics and gamblers were zero-tolerance. For ordinary people, you might believe only three-tenths; for these two types, you could believe only one-tenth.

Hu Di hesitated, then suddenly smiled. “Alright, since Young Master Fang says so, my men must have been negligent.”

He waved his hand; the Sand Camel Clan members immediately dispersed. He then bowed slightly. “Young Master Fang, the situation doesn’t look promising—almost no one here has seen the woman in the painting.”

Lu Fang nodded. “I saw your men asking around. I can’t blame you. I’ll say it again: if you have any real leads, just send me a voice message.”

“Young Master Fang, you’re straightforward.”

Hu Di nodded with a smile.

Just as Lu Fang was about to leave, the old drunkard, sitting in front of the shop and lifting his wine gourd to drink, suddenly called out to him: “You don’t seem like the type to cheat. Fine—I’ll tell you the lead because you spoke up for me just now.”

“I can give you the information about the woman in the painting.”

“But I warn you upfront—if you don’t pay me the silver later, I’ll follow you for life to collect.”

“Agreed.” Lu Fang replied, assuming an attentive posture.

The old drunkard shook his wine gourd, leaned close to listen, then shook his head. “No wine? That won’t do. Let’s go to the tavern—drink and talk there.”

Without waiting for Lu Fang’s response, he staggered toward the tavern nearby.

Lu Fang checked the sky—it was still early. He hurried after him. The old drunkard was clearly a regular; as soon as he entered, he shouted loudly: “Bring me the best wine and dishes in the house—I don’t abstain from meat or fish.”

The shopkeeper, an old man from the Western Regions, spoke fluent Chinese: “We don’t offer credit here.”

Lu Fang walked to the counter and placed twenty taels of silver. “Do as he says—bring the best appetizers. As for wine, no need—we brought our own.”

“Got it! One table of premium appetizers coming up!”

The shopkeeper called out with a smile.

“How can there be no wine?” The old drunkard frowned, staring at Lu Fang beside him. “You don’t seem short on silver—surely you’re just mocking old monk?”

Lu Fang smiled and shook his head. “I seek your guidance, Master—why would I mock you? But I happen to have a small jar of Bodhi Fruit Wine and quite a bit of Monkey Wine.”

With a sweep of his long sleeve, three sealed jars of wine instantly appeared on the table, their rich aroma already filling the air.

Merely smelling it made one’s mouth water.

Especially the smaller jar—the “Bodhi Fruit Wine”—its faint fruity fragrance drifted a full mile; just one whiff left one refreshed and invigorated.

The old drunkard’s eyes lit up. He leaned over the table, sniffing repeatedly with his bulbous nose. “This aroma—this is truly Bodhi Fruit Wine!”

This jar of Bodhi Fruit Wine had been given to Lu Fang by Li Yu before he left, hoping he could break through to sixth-rank during the Buddha Land trial.

Know that Bodhi Fruit Wine, even among the Western Regions’ Buddhist lands, was an extremely rare treasure, bestowed only by the Great Zhou Emperor.

Unless you had significant achievement and status in the Buddha Land, you wouldn’t even get to see it, let alone drink it.

“Sir, you’re no ordinary man—you’ve even tasted Bodhi Fruit Wine.”

Lu Fang felt a surge of hope. Perhaps this filthy old drunkard truly had a lead about Lu Ling’s biological mother.

The old drunkard shook his head repeatedly, eagerly seizing the jar of Bodhi Fruit Wine, carefully pouring just one cup—so cautious that he even licked the droplets that spilled.

“I have no ability to drink Bodhi Fruit Wine—I’ve only seen others drink it. Young Master, your generosity—just this one jar—is worth far more than a thousand taels.”

Lu Fang smiled and nodded, not pressing him.

The old drunkard drank nearly ten cups, devoured more than half the dishes, then belched loudly, wiped his mouth with his filthy sleeve, and burst into a wide grin.

“My life’s been worth it! Since Young Master Fang is so generous, old monk won’t hide it—I do know the lead about the woman in the painting.”

“Oh?” Lu Fang listened intently.

The old drunkard lifted the wine jar and took several large gulps. “Years ago, I was indeed an ascetic. But after some troubling events, I chose to live freely.”

“Do you still have the scroll? Could I see it again, carefully?”

“Don’t misunderstand—I didn’t come to trick you without knowing. It’s just that place is far too dangerous. If the woman in the painting isn’t her, you’d be better off not going.”

“That place is dangerous?” Lu Fang pulled another scroll from his storage pouch. Though all were copies, they were painted by the finest artists from the Imperial Capital—nearly identical to the original.

"Is that place dangerous?" Lu Fang took another scroll from his storage pouch; though all were copies, they were painted by the finest artists in the capital, nearly identical.