At nine-thirty, carrying half a bottle of Old Liang he hadn't finished drinking, he staggered back up the steps to the teachers' dormitory at No. 9 Vocational Middle School.
Although the school had gone from public to privately run, the dormitory building hadn't been reclaimed, and the teachers who'd already secured positions there were still allowed to live in it.
In recent days, though, Old Liang had started looking for a suitable place to live. He planned to buy a cheap single-story house and spend his retirement there.
He'd considered continuing to run tutoring classes, but after thinking it over, he'd realized it might look like he was using Qin Shi's name to make money.
Especially after his own disciple had said what he did today, students signing up later and parents eager to see their children succeed were bound to come swarming in.
In fact, ever since Qin Shi had taken first place in the Hengzhou Top 100 Competition, wealthy business owners from the Tai'an Metropolitan Area had sincerely invited him to join their cultivation centers, offering him shares and high salaries.
"Getting old, and now I have to ride on my own disciple's coattails."
By rights, a powerhouse like Old Liang, who'd reached the Professional Level, shouldn't have been affected by alcohol.
But as he drank Beicang and recalled the past, the memories came back vividly: learning martial arts from his master in Jingzhou, serving in the legion and enlisting in the military.
The wine wasn't making him drunk; he was getting drunk on his own thoughts. Old Liang felt a little tipsy as he crossed the corridor and pushed open the door to the teachers' dormitory, muttering:
"Liang Zhengxiong, Liang Zhengxiong. You took up martial arts in this life, and you found a good master and a