Virtue

Sometimes, life was not as beautiful as one imagined.

Ever since Chi Chengzi emerged from seclusion, aside from Ling Houzi, who had been scared off by Li Feng and fled to that nonexistent "Verdant Mountain," Cang Langzi, Gui Xinzi, Yi Xingzi, Lei Zhenzi, Qin Yanzi, and the other remaining third-generation disciples of the Yiyuan Sect had all emerged from seclusion as well. For a time, Qingyun Flat became uncommonly lively. These old Daoists, who normally would rather die than go down the mountain to take disciples, saw Li Feng—a fourth-generation disciple as obedient as a good little boy—suddenly appear on the mountain, and they pounced on him like flies on an egg.

These fellows usually shut themselves away in desperate cultivation, putting on airs as though they cared nothing for worldly affairs. Yet after cultivating bitterly for several centuries, each had comprehended all manner of strange and peculiar tricks. None of them wished to remain lonely, and each wanted someone to pass his unique arts down to. Thus, Li Feng suddenly became incredibly sought-after. Several old Daoists seized him every day and drilled him mercilessly across Qingyun Flat, seeming to wish they could make him shatter the void and ascend within three to five years.

In the morning, he cultivated Qi with Xie Yuezi, then immediately went to study alchemy manuals with Gu Lingzi for an hour. Before he had finished reading, the fat Chi Chengzi would come charging over with the enormous Golden Sarira Pagoda on his shoulder and drag Li Feng out to trade spells. Just after several of Chi Chengzi's lightning bolts had scorched him black and left him in utter disarray, Cang Langzi would already be rushing in excitedly, waving his treasured sword. Before a single lock of Li Feng's lightning-split hair could even touch the ground, Gui Xinzi would burst from underground, shouting and waving several Mysterious Gate Dunjia Heavenly Books, looking as though he would immediately fly into a rage and murder anyone who refused to learn his spells. And then came...

Li Feng sighed from the bottom of his heart. "Those people showered with three thousand favors must feel pretty awful too."

Now, Li Feng hid as far away as he possibly could. He had no wish to be tormented to death by a pack of old Daoists who had only just emerged from seclusion and had nothing better to do. Little Cat, the Yiyuan Sect's only pet, spent every day curled up inside a stone cave, not daring to show his face at all. Any random old Daoist could grab him and carry him around like a cat, which was truly a blow to his dignity as king of all beasts. So, like Li Feng, he could only hide.

The old Daoists had only spent half a month seeking Li Feng out to play before they discovered that they could no longer find even his shadow. Once the Heavenly Escape talisman was activated, they were nowhere near capable of detecting Li Feng while he was in a state of Unity of Heaven and Man. They could only find their own amusements instead.

Thus, some of the old Daoists drank themselves mad, some desperately played chess and gambled, some paced back and forth around a stone peak, while others squatted beside a stream for three or five days without moving, as if that flowing water possessed some boundless novelty and beauty. And when some were truly bored beyond endurance, they stood beneath trees and kicked them madly until the poor trees trembled, leaves scattering down from the sky. Then they would stand beneath the tree and loudly praise, "Wonderful! Wonderful! Beautiful! What a beautiful sight!"

Watching this crowd of madmen, Li Feng felt rather uneasy. Could it be that shutting themselves away for years at a time has broken their brains? Look at Chi Chengzi—carrying all his possessions on his back in broad daylight. No matter how I look at him, he's a miser and a super-grade idiot rolled into one. These people are my elders? Good thing I ran quickly. Otherwise, wouldn't they have played me to death? Li Feng shook his head repeatedly, feeling that his own title of "Fengzi" ought to be bestowed upon them instead.

A stifled snicker came from behind him. Li Feng's heart lurched, and he sent a vicious kick toward the groin behind him. The person behind him immediately cried out, "Wah, wah, wah! What a vicious little brat! You actually used such a move against your Martial Grandfather! A man's lower body is his fatal weak point—you can't just hit, touch, or grope it as you please."

Li Feng turned around and saw a shriveled, skinny, towering old Daoist. Fortunately, he remembered that this Daoist had shown himself before him four years ago. He hurriedly kowtowed. "Greetings, Martial Grandfather. This disciple, Li Fengzi, pays his respects. Li Fengzi wishes Martial Grandfather blessings as vast as the Eastern Sea, a life as enduring as the Southern Mountain, ever-deepening cultivation, and an early ascent to heaven." Inside, he cursed viciously, You old bastard, hurry up and die. Sneaking up behind me to scare me? Bah! Do you think you're some beauty that I'd grope you? I wouldn't be interested unless one grope earned me a hundred taels—no, a thousand taels—of silver.

Chen Songzi chuckled heartily, raised the red gourd at his side, and took a huge gulp of wine. "Good, good, good! I never thought Longzi would do such a fine deed, finding such an excellent grand-disciple for me. Hehe, this time this old Daoist Chen has gained the lead. From now on, every fourth-generation disciple will have to call you Senior Disciple Brother... Hmm, this is a little trinket from your Martial Grandfather. Take it and play with it. That Vermilion Bird Crescent is too powerful. Until you can wield it as smoothly as your own limbs, do not reveal it before others." With a flip of his palm, a silver little sword appeared in his hand. It was as long as a pinky finger, thin as an earthworm, and constantly twisted and sprang like a Spirit Snake.

Li Feng swiftly snatched the little sword from Chen Songzi's hand and casually stuffed it into his sleeve. He chuckled. "As expected, Martial Grandfather understands your grand-disciple best." Yet inwardly, he warned himself, Good heavens, Xie Yuezi and Gu Lingzi, those two stinking Daoists, just said that my Vermilion Bird Crescent was too powerful, and this old fellow immediately gave me a flying sword that looks brimming with spirituality. Does he know everything? I just wonder whether he knows that I cleaned out the Prefect of Xi'an Prefecture's home the night before last.

Li Feng looked eagerly at Chen Songzi. Chen Songzi carefully examined him from head to toe, then smiled. "Those little Daoists want to slack off, so they are sparing no expense to cultivate my little grand-disciple here. Hehe, I'll give them a good lesson tomorrow. To pull up seedlings in hopes of helping them grow is not the way of the wise... Little grandson, you want to know what your martial uncles are doing, don't you?"

Li Feng nodded and bluntly said, "They look like a bunch of lunatics. They might as well take my title of Li Fengzi."

Chen Songzi burst into laughter, shook his head, and swallowed another mouthful of wine. "Ha! That martial nephew Chi Chengzi... hehe, he saw a little monkey empty out a neighbor's house one night, and he was afraid that thieves would come for him, so he carries all his belongings on him." He glanced at the utterly embarrassed Li Feng and laughed. "No matter, no matter. Those who cultivate the Dao should act according to their nature. You merely stole a tiger whip. It is hardly some grave offense. You didn't commit *rape and plunder, so why should I blame you? It's not as though, lacking tiger whip for your medicine, you would cut off Little Cat's instead."

Little Cat, who had finally worked up the courage to leave with Li Feng, heard Chen Songzi's words and let out a terrified howl. With his tail tucked between his legs, he fled desperately toward the rear mountain. It seemed certain that he would not dare show his face for the next three to five days. Chen Songzi gave a strange, snickering laugh. After exchanging a glance with Li Feng, he said, "As for your other martial uncles, what do you think they are doing?"

Li Feng straightforwardly gave his own judgment. "They've been in seclusion so long that they must be stifled half to death. Maybe they're thinking about women. Look at those two drinking and fighting—they must have too much energy. The ones squatting by the water in a daze must be thinking of their lovers. That one running circles at random must have rising heart-fire and be nearly unable to hold it in anymore. And that one wrecking the woods of Qingyun Flat—his lust must have gone to his head. He's probably about to go mad, right?"

Chen Songzi sprayed out a mouthful of wine. At last, he understood why Xiao Longzi had been angered into seclusion by just a few words from him. Chen Songzi coughed several times before saying helplessly, "Absurd, absurd! What lust could cultivators possibly still possess? That single thread of innate primal yang has long fused into their Golden Cores. How could bodily stimulation compare to the ecstasy of the spirit communing with Heaven and Earth?... Shut up. You brat must not open your mouth. Nothing good ever comes out when you do. Your martial uncles are comprehending the Dao."

Li Feng froze. Pointing at the strangely behaving martial uncles as though they were a pile of dung, he said, "They're comprehending the Dao? Drinking to comprehend the Dao? Fighting like street thugs to comprehend the Dao? Staring blankly to comprehend the Dao? Running about wildly to comprehend the Dao? Watching leaves fall to comprehend the Dao? If it were that easy, I, Li Feng, would have become an immortal long ago. No—perhaps I'd already have become the Supreme Lord Laozi."

Chen Songzi smacked Li Feng on the head and shouted, "What nonsense! Is the Supreme Lord's title something you can impersonate at will? Hmph, you say these actions cannot lead to comprehending the Dao, so what does?"

Li Feng thought for a long time, only to realize that he had no clear concept at all. As for the ultimate truth of Heaven and Earth—who knew where it was?

Chen Songzi shouted, "Look—this is the Dao." He pointed at a Centipede Dragon-Shaped Centipede, over an inch long, winding its way across the ground beneath their feet.

Li Feng stared blankly, then abruptly cursed, "Damn it, this thing is the Dao? I've used who knows how many of them to refine Detoxifying Powder."

Chen Songzi said nothing. Pointing to a stone at his side, he shouted, "This too is the Dao."

Li Feng was even more bewildered. He simply smashed the foot-wide stone with one punch and cursed, "This is the Dao? Then didn't I just kill the Dao?"

Chen Songzi crouched down, grabbed a lump of pitch-black mud, and very seriously held it out before Li Feng. "This is the Dao."

Li Feng shook his head. "Martial Grandfather, are you joking? If mud is the Dao, then the Dao is far too cheap."

Chen Songzi said solemnly, "Why is mud not the Dao? Even the foulest earth can bloom with the most beautiful flowers. The waxing and waning of Heaven and Earth's transformations—where is that not the Dao?"

It was as though Li Feng had been struck by lightning. He suddenly stood there stupidly, then began rapidly circling Chen Songzi. He seemed to have thought of something, yet it was as though a layer of gauze lay before him, leaving it indistinct. He knew something was there, but he could not see it clearly or explain it. Smiling, Chen Songzi blew lightly upon the lump of mud in his hand and gently murmured, "All things beneath Heaven are born, transform, wax, and wane. Spring flowers and autumn moons, summer winds and winter snow; flowers bloom and fall, moons wax and wane, winds rise and die, snow gathers and melts."

A tiny green shoot grew from the lump of mud in his hand. Within only a few breaths, the shoot blossomed into a beautiful red flower, swaying gracefully in the breeze.

Li Feng suddenly shouted, "That's it!"

Chen Songzi immediately asked, "What is?"

Li Feng smiled. "I understand it, but I haven't fully grasped it."

Chen Songzi nodded, casually flung the mud away, wiped his blackened palm a few times on his Daoist robe, then took a gulp from his wine gourd. "Not bad, not bad. It is enough that you understand. It took your Martial Grandfather more than three hundred years to go from understanding to fully grasping it. Hehe, let those little Daoists slowly comprehend it themselves. No one can help another in comprehending the Dao... These days, many cultivators care only for strengthening their True Essence and transforming their Golden Cores and Nascent Souls, yet they often forget the cultivation of the Dao heart, which lies at the very root. Thus, when the Heavenly Tribulation finally descends, they die without knowing how miserably. Pitiful and tragic."

Li Feng nodded gravely, though his pair of thief's eyes was fixed on the gourd in Chen Songzi's hand. Chen Songzi looked at Li Feng, then at his wine gourd, and suddenly laughed. "Little grandson likes a drink too? Hehe, splendid... Your Martial Grandfather has cultivated bitterly for so long that I too wish to loosen up a little. If you drink with your Martial Grandfather, I'll teach you a few more things. Hehe, for example, the Void Breaking Art your master Xiao Longzi wants to learn, but which your Martial Grandfather refuses to teach him—I can teach it to you instead. Hehe, that'll anger your master to death."

Li Feng was stunned. "Void Breaking Art? It sounds formidable."

Chen Songzi grabbed Li Feng, stuffed the gourd into his hand, and said, "Haha, naturally it is formidable. This wine is Hundred Flower Dew, personally brewed by your Martial Grandfather. Taste it and see what you think. This is one of the finest wines in the Yiyuan Sect... As for the Void Breaking Art, your Martial Grandfather comprehended it from the Yiyuan Sect's treasured secret scripture, the Purple Pole Heart Sutra. It seizes the creative power of Heaven and Earth, and its might is utterly peerless. Raising the dead and restoring flesh to white bones are trifling matters; overturning rivers and seas is as easy as turning one's hand, moving mountains and draining seas as effortless as breathing. With a lift of the hand or a step of the foot, ten thousand gods and spirits follow. Hehe, tell me, is it formidable or not?"

Li Feng frowned. "Then why not teach it to Master? You aren't using me as an experiment, are you?"

Chen Songzi hurriedly shook his head, his face full of sincerity. "You are my little grand-disciple. How could your Martial Grandfather harm you? Your master is sometimes too rigid. He would be happiest spending his entire life curled up on Qingyun Flat without ever leaving; learning the Void Breaking Art would be useless to him. But you, little grandson, will travel the world in the future, spread the Yiyuan Sect's name far and wide, and take in disciples. This art is the finest spell for defeating enemies, protecting yourself, guarding the heart, and subduing demons. Naturally, it should be for you."

Li Feng was furious inside. You pack of old mutts—so you started plotting against me long ago. I was wondering why you would teach me top-grade spells. So it's because you want me to serve as cheap labor later on. Fine. You'd all better be thinking the same way. If I don't empty out your family treasures, then I'm your son. His hand darted out, two fingers rubbing together. "The Purple Pole Heart Sutra, hehe. Martial Grandfather, why not let your grand-disciple study it for reference?"

Chen Songzi casually took out a purple, curved jade talisman and handed it to Li Feng with a grin. "Excellent. Your Martial Grandfather knew you would say that, so I'll temporarily entrust the Purple Pole Heart Sutra to your keeping. Hehe, it is said to be a scripture from an immortal mansion in the heavens—a wordless heavenly book. Only when one's cultivation reaches a certain level can one comprehend anything from it. Hehe, grand-disciple, keep it well. It bears the restrictions of our Yiyuan Sect, so there is no fear of anyone stealing it."

Li Feng was dumbfounded. It turned out this old fellow had planned out his every move long ago. He was so angry that he nearly burst. Looking again at the jade talisman in his hand, he saw that aside from countless tiny lines forming elaborate images of dragons, phoenixes, flowers, grasses, and all manner of strange beasts, there was indeed not a single word upon it. Yet this palm-sized, three-finger-thick jade talisman looked as though one could see an entire ocean within it, its waves of light stretching layer upon layer beyond the reach of sight. Li Feng knew it was a treasure. Never mind whether he was capable of reading the secret scripture—he stuffed it straight into his sleeve.

Still, remembering that Chen Songzi had calculated every one of his actions, Li Feng was in an exceptionally foul mood. He could only take a vicious swig of wine and curse inwardly, Old bastard, you say you brewed this wine yourself? Wonderful. I learned to drink at six years old. Let's see if I don't drain every last drop of your private stash... Mother of—what the hell is this? A sour-but-not-sour, bitter-but-not-bitter liquid with an incomparably pungent odor surged into Li Feng's mouth. He coughed, spraying every drop of wine from his mouth.

Chen Songzi hastily snatched his gourd back and cried, "Little grandson, if you can't drink, take smaller sips! This is peerless fine wine your Martial Grandfather painstakingly brewed from a hundred flowers. Wasn't that mouthful you sprayed out a waste?"

Li Feng was stunned. This stuff was worse than swill, and it was supposed to be fine wine? Hesitantly, he asked, "Martial Grandfather, when did you go up the mountain?"

Not understanding why Li Feng was asking, Chen Songzi honestly replied, "Your Martial Grandfather was brought up the mountain by your great Martial Grandfather when I was seven. That was more than six hundred years ago. Why do you ask?"

Li Feng shrieked, "No wonder your wine tastes so terrible—it reeks of piss! So the brewing recipe was handed down to you by great Martial Grandfather, and you just took it for granted that you could brew it with a hundred flowers? You call this wine? Bah! If this counts as wine, then I'm one of the Three Pure Ones!"

Chen Songzi was enraged, his face flushing red at once. "Nonsense! If this isn't wine, then what is it? Look all over Qingyun Flat—who doesn't drink the wine brewed by your Martial Grandfather? It was even brewed inside your Martial Grandfather's pill furnace, forged from ten-thousand-year Coldheart Jade. It is brimming with spiritual energy. One sip gives you brat at least another hundred years of life! And you ask what this wine is? It reeks of piss? Bah! Have you ever drunk piss, brat? Hmph."

Li Feng jumped up outright, glaring fiercely at Chen Songzi with both eyes. "I really have drunk piss, though not willingly. And your wine reeks of piss. Just wait, old fellow. I'll show you what real fine wine is." Recalling certain matters from the past, his old street-thug nature surged up again. He unleashed a torrent of curses at his Martial Grandfather, calling him an old turtle bastard and old fool, then turned and ran toward the mountain peaks surrounding the Gathering Yuan Formation. All his stolen goods were buried there.

Chen Songzi did not find Li Feng's form of address strange; after all, his cultivation of character was fairly good. What he could not tolerate was Li Feng calling his wine piss. If Li Feng was telling the truth, did that not mean the disciples of Yiyuan Sect had been drinking piss for over a thousand years? This was fine wine brewed according to the secret recipe of some lazy, wine-loving patriarch of Yiyuan Sect! Hmph, hmph—this little fellow simply did not know how to appreciate it. Thinking this, Chen Songzi suddenly understood. Shaking his head smugly, he raised his gourd and took a careful sip.

Footsteps sounded. Li Feng came running over with a mud-caked wine jar slung over his shoulder, set it steadily before Chen Songzi, then pulled out the little flying sword Chen Songzi had just given him. With one stroke, he sliced off the mouth of the jar, sealing clay and all, exposing roughly a hundred-odd jin of liquid within. Pointing at the faintly yellow liquor, Li Feng shouted, "Hundred Year Fenjiu. Well, old man? Give it a try and see what it tastes like."

Chen Songzi froze. Hundred Year Fenjiu—what was that? It had only aged for a hundred years; what did that amount to? The few jars of Hundred Flowers Wine he had secretly stashed away had all been aged for at least four hundred years. Still, seeing Li Feng's proud expression, Chen Songzi decided to indulge the junior and give him some face. He gently pursed his lips and took a light breath toward the liquid in the jar. A stream of bright silver liquor immediately rose into the air and poured into Chen Songzi's mouth.

Chen Songzi seemed to have been struck by lightning. His entire body stiffened, his eyes went blank, and he could not speak. He had no idea how to describe that wine's flavor—what lingering finish, what rich sauce aroma; where would he have learned such words? He only knew that this was good wine, peerless wine, truly the finest of the fine. With one small swallow, his mouth filled with fragrance. Then the liquor seemed like a thread of icy snowmelt slipping down his throat into his stomach, followed by a blaze of fire that surged up from his belly with a whoosh.

Chen Songzi clapped his hands and roared, "It truly is peerless wine!" With a casual motion, he poured every last drop from his gourd. Guiding it with a sword seal in his right hand, he sent a thin stream of liquor spiraling into the gourd. He laughed wildly. "Truly superb! Exquisite! Compared to it, the wine Martial Grandfather brewed himself really is like piss! My grand-disciple truly has discernment! Hahaha!"

As Chen Songzi clapped and laughed madly, he inadvertently put a fraction of his inner qi into his voice. His thunderous shout shook all of Qingyun Flat. At once, from the largest mountain peak floating in the sky, True Man Miaomiao's small, thin head poked out as he shouted, "Hey, Fifth! Have you brewed wine again? Good, good, good! I'm coming down at once!"

True Man Huoyun, meanwhile, was already swooping over atop a patch of red cloud, cursing as he shouted, "Fifth, didn't you say all your wine had been drunk dry, and the new batch was still in the pill furnace and not ready yet? Hmph, hmph! How do you have wine again today?"

While Miaomiao and Huoyun were still on their way, Chi Chengzi, Gui Xinzi, and the others had already ridden their sword lights over, yelling at the tops of their lungs, "Martial Uncle, show us some mercy and save a little! Martial Uncle Miaomiao is a drunkard—we can't let him snatch it all!"

Li Feng stared blankly as this crowd of "virtuous" men pounced like vicious dogs fighting over a bone. Then fierce winds began to howl across the sky. Before Li Feng could react, a tremendous force struck him head-on. His head buzzed, and he was knocked unconscious, his body sent flying seven or eight zhang away. All he saw was sword light whistling around that jar of wine, thunder rolling in waves, and bolts of lightning over a thousand zhang long mixed with clusters of thunderfire as large as baskets crashing down, savagely blasting the surrounding woods...

When Li Feng woke, one Martial Grandfather, two grand martial uncles, and nine martial uncles stood neatly before him, looking exactly like a court conducting a criminal interrogation. Chen Songzi was the first to speak. Very seriously, he asked, "Fengzi, where did this wine come from? Did you brew it yourself, or... ahem, ahem, didn't Chi Chengzi see you carrying two jars back up the mountain that night?"

Li Feng shook his still-aching head and cursed, "Damn it, you bunch of country bumpkins! It's just a jar of wine—was there any need to make such a huge fuss? Who told you not to go down the mountain and travel about? Hundred-year-old liquor may be scarce, but there are countless other fine wines. Take our neighbors, the Mount Hua Sword Sect—the cellar behind their kitchen alone has at least two hundred jars of good wine."

Twelve pairs of little lightbulbs lit up. True Man Miaomiao cautiously wiped a trace of liquor from the corner of his mouth with a fingertip and put it into his mouth. Only then did he bend forward eagerly, like a great monkey, and ask, "Grand-nephew, hehe, is that Mount Hua Sword Sect the sect founded by that little fellow I saw before? They actually have good wine? Hehe, do they?"

Li Feng rose to his feet and said grandly, "That's right. I never expected you all to like drinking so much. If I'd known sooner, I would have emptied their entire wine cellar. Hmph, who told you not to go down the mountain and see more of the world? What isn't there below the mountain?" Li Feng had not considered that these righteous cultivators strictly observed their precepts whenever they went down the mountain. They traveled through forests each day, never staying at inns or eating at restaurants. The people of Yiyuan Sect in particular—some had gone up the mountain several hundred years ago and only descended once, casually snatched up two disciples, then returned. How could they possibly have much experience of the world?

True Man Miaomiao, the highest-ranking person present, slapped his palms together and shouted, "Good! Splendid! Back when that little fellow established his school on Mount Hua, this old Daoist even secretly saved him once. As the saying goes... how does that saying go again?"

Li Feng said slyly, "A drop of kindness should be repaid with a gushing spring. Especially a debt of saving one's life, hehe... If Martial Grandfather hadn't saved the patriarch of those Mount Hua Sect people, would the Mount Hua Sword Sect even exist? It might be the Mount Hua Saber Sect, Mount Hua Axe Sect, or Mount Hua Spear Sect now. In any case, it would not be the Mount Hua Sword Sect."

True Man Miaomiao nodded heavily. "Precisely. Then it is settled. Gui Xinzi, Cang Langzi, you two follow your little martial nephew out tonight to handle a matter, understand? Your master will wait for you at Qingyun Flat. Go quickly and return quickly... don't keep your master and your two martial uncles waiting too long." True Man Miaomiao did not explain what they were going out to do, but really, what else could it have been?

That night, Li Feng led the two martial uncles on their first-ever theft. Cang Langzi punched down from above the Mount Hua Sword Sect, knocking every Mount Hua disciple unconscious. The three of them then rushed into the Mount Hua Sect wine cellar. Gui Xinzi casually unleashed Five Ghosts Great Teleportation, and nearly three hundred jars of aged liquor vanished in an instant—ethereal and empty, no longer belonging to the Mount Hua Sect.

The next morning, Mount Hua Sect was thrown into another bout of chaos. Facing the empty wine cellar, countless experts searched for half the day, yet could not find the slightest clue as to how those Daoist thieves had stolen away all that aged wine, each jar weighing a hundred jin. In his panic, Sect Master Wei Ziqun thought of ghosts and spirits. Thus, a whole group of Mount Hua disciples immediately went down the mountain, seized over a hundred Buddhist monks and Daoist priests, and set up a grand land-and-water ritual, complete with rites to expel evil and catch ghosts. For forty-nine straight days, Mount Hua Sect bustled with activity.

Miaomiao, Huoyun, and Chen Songzi, meanwhile, lavished praise upon Li Feng and the others. They also decided that from then on, all the fine wine needed by the disciples of Yiyuan Sect on Qingyun Flat would be Li Feng's responsibility to procure.

Within a month, strange happenings broke out one after another in towns large and small near Mount Hua. The cellars of countless inns, restaurants, and distilleries were emptied clean, leaving the common folk in a state of panic. They believed a "thousand-year wine demon" was at work.

Amid the turmoil, more than a dozen genuine cultivators devoted to "slaying demons and eliminating evil" were drawn over. Yet the nine great disciples of Yiyuan Sect acted together, and their transportation arts were profound and unfathomable. How could those cultivators uncover even the slightest trace? They could only call it strange, one after another.

Originally, Yiyuan Sect had intended to pay. But Li Feng, who stayed behind carrying the money pouch, was the sort who would not part with a single hair. Once he saw his martial uncles escorting the wine away into the distance, it was already a blessing if he did not strip the shopkeepers' vaults bare—how could he possibly leave behind even a thread of silver? No wonder the common folk were abuzz with speculation.

Because of a few foolish words from Li Feng, the hard-earned reputation of Yiyuan Sect over thousands of years became a painted cake overnight.