"Just wait and see. With that lord's temper, those two are probably in for trouble..."
Low murmurs rose from the corners, carrying schadenfreude, sympathy, or simple excitement at the prospect of a spectacle.
Everyone thought this unfamiliar "couple" was about to run into serious trouble.
Just then, a figure rose from a table in the corner of the tavern and walked straight toward Tang Lan's table.
He was a middle-aged man who looked to be in his forties, with a lean face and three long strands of beard. He wore a faded azure Daoist robe that had been washed nearly white, his hair tied in a Daoist topknot secured with a wooden hairpin.
He walked with unhurried composure, a gentle smile on his face that seemed to see through the ways of the world. He was still holding his half-finished cup of wine.
When he reached Tang Lan and Wang Qiuer's table, he first nodded politely to them. Then he turned slightly, casting a glance at Chai Yong beside them, who was drinking alone and radiating an increasingly hostile aura. Only then did he lower his voice and offer Tang Lan a warning.
"You two look unfamiliar. You must be newcomers. Please heed this poor Daoist's advice."
He gestured toward Chai Yong with his eyes.
"The gentleman sitting in the middle... is no ordinary man. And his temper truly isn't very good. Before he is genuinely angered, you two should... change tables and keep your distance. When one is away from home, safety is a blessing."
The Daoist put it tactfully, but his meaning was clear—you could not afford to provoke the man beside you, so get away quickly.
Tang Lan naturally smiled and nodded, expressing his gratitude for the Daoist's "kind intentions."
"Thank you for the warning, Daoist priest."