Setting His Sights on Shaolin Temple

"A laugh rings over the vast sea, tides surge along both shores..."

After drinking heartily... before three cups had even gone down, Little Meng started singing.

"Little Meng... Seeing the way he drank, I thought he had a good head for liquor. Who would have thought three cups would knock him down?"

Keeping time with Little Meng's loud song, Gu Changqing turned to Jiang Zhiwei in confusion.

Of everyone present, Jiang Zhiwei had known Little Meng the longest. She ought to know him fairly well.

"He... Well, the Reckless Vajra is just that forthright."

Jiang Zhiwei could only make up something helplessly.

How could she have known that Little Meng, who raised his cup and drained it in one gulp, would be felled after just three cups?

As a transmigrator, Little Meng subconsciously believed his tolerance for alcohol remained at the level it had been before his transmigration. He had completely forgotten that this body of his, a Shaolin monk's body, had never drunk alcohol before.

After downing three bowls in a row, Little Meng had truly become someone who could not make it past three bowls.

"Empires and ambitions, discussed amid laughter—yet no drunkenness in this world can compare!"

As though he wanted to make up all the showing off he had missed before in one go, Little Meng began reciting poetry after finishing his song.

"I'll help him sober up!"

With a flick of her hand, a blast of icy air rushed forward. Little Meng shuddered, cold sweat breaking out all over him as he immediately sobered up.

"Uh... I just..."

Little Meng's face reddened, and he wished he could crawl into a crack in the ground.

He had humiliated himself beyond measure!

"The song was good, and the poem was excellent too. Little Meng is talented in