Grudges (Part 1)

Su Derong led Chen Jianghe to a stop beneath the gilded plaque inscribed with the three characters for "Zuichun Brothel."

The building stood three stories tall with upturned eaves and ornate brackets. Copper bells hung from the corners, chiming melodically in the breeze, weaving together with the faint sounds of strings and woodwinds drifting from within to create a symphony of prosperity.

"This is the place." Su Derong fanned himself, winking at Chen Jianghe. "I'll show you what 'inner-city nourishment' is all about."

The two ascended the steps, Su Derong saying as they walked, "Don't even think about backing out today. The game served at Zuichun Brothel is nothing like the livestock raised in the outer city—it's all exotic beasts hunted from the depths of Black Wind Ridge. Their vitality is potent; eating them strengthens the bones and adds to one's power. For those of us who practice martial arts, it's a genuine, high-grade tonic!"

Chen Jianghe looked around.

The interior was decorated with extreme elegance. The nanmu tables and chairs were polished to a mirror finish, ink-wash paintings hung on the four walls, and celadon vases filled with seasonal chrysanthemums sat in the corners.

The waiter, sharp-eyed, spotted Su Derong and hurried over with a beaming smile. "Two masters, shall I lead you to a private room upstairs?"

Su Derong waved a hand, walking inside with the familiarity of a regular. "The usual spot, the private room facing the street on the second floor. Bring the dishes as usual, and for the wine, I want ten-year-old 'Spring Burn'."

"Understood! Please wait a moment, Master Su, I'll arrange it right away!"

The two took their seats in the street-facing private room.

The window looked directly out onto the main street of the inner city, offering a perfect view of the pedestrians and carriages below.

Before long, four young women in pale green silk dresses arrived carrying wine pots.

They were all sixteen or seventeen years old, with clear, beautiful features and light, graceful steps.

The leader poured the wine with delicate hands. The liquid fell into the cups, clear and bright, its fragrance crisp and refreshing.

"Please enjoy, masters." The girl's voice was soft and sweet. After bowing, she retreated to the side to stand in attendance, eyes lowered and posture respectful.

Su Derong picked up his cup and took a sip, smacking his lips. "Fragrant. This 'Spring Burn' is cellar-stored from the Zhang Family Winery; they only produce a hundred jars a year. Ordinary people never get to taste this."

Chen Jianghe followed suit, taking a small sip.

The wine was crisp and cool, but a line of warmth slid down his throat, immediately transforming into a gentle heat that dispersed throughout his limbs and bones, causing his blood and qi to stir faintly.

"Good wine," Chen Jianghe said, setting down his cup with sincerity.

"The wine is good, but the food is even better." Su Derong tapped the table with his fan. "Wait, the exotic beast meat is coming right up."

Soon, the dishes were brought to the table one after another.

They weren't served in large platters or bowls, but on exquisite small plates.

A plate of steamed bear paw, the meat translucent and drizzled with an amber sauce;

A plate of stir-fried leopard heart, sliced thin and tender-red like fire, garnished with emerald wild vegetables;

A bowl of sparrow liver soup, the broth milky white and the liver slices as tender as tofu;

And several seasonal vegetable stir-fries, all delicacies rarely seen in the outer city.

Su Derong picked up his ivory chopsticks and placed a slice of leopard heart onto Chen Jianghe's plate. "Try this. It's from a 'Red-Striped Leopard'—the best for nourishing blood and qi. An ordinary martial artist eating just one piece is worth three days of bitter training."

Chen Jianghe tasted it as instructed.

The leopard heart was incredibly tender, yet carried a wild, savory sweetness.

After swallowing, a wave of heat rose from his stomach, rushing straight to his head, and his blood and qi were indeed noticeably more active.

"How is it?" Su Derong asked with a smile.

"Truly extraordinary," Chen Jianghe nodded. He paused, then added, "It's just far too extravagant."

Su Derong laughed heartily, fanning himself with gusto. "Extravagant? This is nothing. This table alone costs at least this much—"

He held up four fingers.

"Forty taels?" Chen Jianghe asked.

"Four taels," Su Derong corrected. "Of gold."

Chen Jianghe's hand, holding his chopsticks, paused.

Four taels of gold was equivalent to forty taels of silver.

Su Derong, however, didn't care in the slightest. He fished a small silk pouch from his robe, weighed it, and tossed it to the waiter waiting nearby. "Settle the bill, keep the rest as a tip."

The waiter caught the pouch, felt its weight, and his face lit up with joy. "Many thanks for your generous reward, Master Su!"

Chen Jianghe remained silent.

In the path of martial arts—wealth, companions, methods, and location—wealth came first. It was truly no lie.

As the two were eating, footsteps sounded from the staircase.

Su Derong had his back to the stairs and didn't notice. But because of his seating orientation, Chen Jianghe looked up and saw three men coming up.

The leader was in his early thirties, with a cold expression, sword-like brows, and star-bright eyes. He wore a dark black martial outfit under a brocade robe with hidden patterns, and a long saber hung at his waist. It was the senior brother, Zhao Mingyuan.

The man following closely behind was slightly younger, with a sharp face and thin lips, his eyes darting about with a hint of arrogance. He wore an indigo satin robe and also carried a long saber. This was the second senior brother, Li Tian.

Standing half a step behind them was a youth of about seventeen or eighteen.

He wore a brocade robe and a jade belt, his face handsome, though a coldness inconsistent with his age was etched into his brows.

His gaze was sharp as he swept across the main hall. When his eyes met Chen Jianghe's, he didn't pause in the slightest, as if he were merely looking at a piece of furniture.

Chen Jianghe's fingers tightened slightly around his wine glass.

Chen Wanglong.

That legitimate grandson, praised by all in the main hall of the Chen Family and hailed as the "Qilin Son of the Chen Family."

Su Derong noticed the change in Chen Jianghe's expression and followed his gaze, his own face darkening instantly.

He twitched the corner of his mouth and let out a sudden, mocking chuckle. It wasn't loud, but it was clear enough for the few who had just come upstairs to hear:

"Tsk, what bad luck. I didn't check the almanac before heading out today; I actually ran into two ungrateful curs."

Zhao Mingyuan paused in his tracks. His gaze swept over Su Derong before landing on Chen Jianghe sitting opposite him, his brows furrowing almost imperceptibly.

Li Tian instantly "charged" forward, his face grim: "You surnamed Su! Who are you calling names?!"

Su Derong turned back slowly, picked up a piece of meat with his chopsticks, popped it into his mouth, and chewed it thoroughly before swallowing. Only then did he lift his eyes to glance at Li Tian, snapping his fan open and waving it twice: "I'm calling whoever answers."

"You—!" Li Tian's face flushed red. He took a step forward, but Zhao Mingyuan reached out to stop him.

Zhao Mingyuan's voice was flat, devoid of emotion: "Junior Brother Su, it's been a long time. Your tongue is as sharp as ever."

Su Derong, however, couldn't care less. Instead, he tapped Chen Jianghe's arm with the ribs of his fan, his voice loud enough for the others to hear clearly:

"Jianghe, see that? Those are the two 'puppies' Master was kind enough to pick up from the snow outside the city all those years ago. He spent so much effort raising them and teaching them skills, and what was the result?"

He shook his fan: "Before the bones were even warm, they caught the scent of meat thrown by the Zhao Family in the inner city and ran off, wagging their tails without a backward glance. In all these years, have they ever returned to the Xingyi Martial Arts Hall to see Master? Have they ever spared a thought for the camaraderie of their fellow disciples?"

Zhao Mingyuan's expression remained unchanged as he said coolly:

"I have never dared to forget Master's kindness. But people strive for higher ground; the Zhao Family can offer me more resources and a better future, so why shouldn't I choose that? Martial cultivation is like sailing against the current—if you don't advance, you retreat. If I had stayed at the Xingyi Martial Arts Hall, would I be where I am today?"

"A fine 'striving for higher ground'!" Su Derong sneered, snapping his fan shut and slamming it onto the table. "Then tell me, since you left, have you ever returned to the hall to see Master? Have you ever sent a single word of greeting?"

His voice grew louder, drawing side-glances from the surrounding tables.

"And you, Li Tian!" Su Derong turned his spear toward the sharp-faced man. "Your aptitude is mediocre. If Master hadn't taken pity on your loneliness, taken you in, and taught you fist techniques, you would have starved to death in some gutter long ago! And what happened? The moment Zhao Mingyuan was recruited by the Zhao Family, you followed right on his heels, fawning and begging for a position as an outsider guard, and you never acknowledged your sect again! Am I wrong to call you an ungrateful cur?"

Stung in his most sensitive spot, Li Tian flew into a rage: "Su Derong! Stop putting on airs! That old man kept his secrets to himself; with the martial arts hall in such a pathetic state, what kind of future could there be? My senior brother and I sought a different path—what's wrong with that?! And you, the dignified young leader of the Su Family, aren't you just wasting your life away at that hall? What right do you have to judge us!"

"Wasting my life?" Su Derong laughed in anger. "I stay at the hall because Master saved my Su Family's lives! Because I know what the word 'loyalty' means! Unlike some people who climb the social ladder and forget their roots!"

He rose abruptly, pointing his fan directly at Li Tian:

"Besides, whether Master taught me the advanced fist techniques or not, what business is it of yours? You have no talent and couldn't break through to the Transforming Strength realm, so you blame Master for hoarding his secrets? Li Tian, have some shame!"

"You're courting death!" Li Tian barked, his right hand already reaching for the long blade at his waist.