A Drinking Contest

For the first time, Gu Shenwei found that liquor could taste so sweet and fragrant. It was nothing like the drink he had shared with the Queen yesterday.

To reach this marvelous state, he first had to endure the harsh, astringent burn as the liquor passed his lips, mixed with the rank smell of roasted meat and the din of voices he could not understand. Gradually, the burn gave way to a delicate fragrance, while everything beyond his sense of taste grew hazy.

But he did not think he was drunk. His mind felt exceptionally clear, and his palms were as hard as steel.

The last person who had nearly led him into the world of drinking was Tie Hanfeng. Before he could even cross the threshold, he had forcibly retreated. This time, he had gone a little farther.

Ten paces away, Molin was still going by the name Silver Eagle, huddled with six soldiers in "secret talks." One moment, they pressed their heads together and whispered; the next, they all leaned back and drank, like a giant night-blooming cereus.

Five paces away, Shangguan Ru had drunk even more, but all she had to show for it was a rosy flush in her cheeks and a heartier laugh. She showed no other sign of drunkenness.

An officer sat opposite her, stubbornly matching her drink for drink, while a dozen spectators cheered them on.

Molin had chosen this spot. "Deserters are the most sensitive group in wartime. They spread rumors, but they also provide the truth."

The three of them had taken turns riding six horses, galloping northwest for nearly three hours before reaching this camp, where refugees and deserters had gathered. They had brought plenty of food and liquor, so hundreds of people welcomed them warmly, bringing out their own