As Chen Mu pressed him for an answer, Li Huanzhen gave a chuckle, his eyes hazy with drink.
"How did it end? Uh..."
No sooner had he spoken than he belched again. He braced himself against the table, steadied his seat, and shook his head.
That cleared his head considerably. A sharp gleam flashed through his eyes, and instead of answering, he asked:
"Brother Chen, weren't you asking about the Sword Saint's deeds this afternoon?"
"Well, this is how that story ended."
Surprise flickered in Chen Mu's eyes.
The Sword Saint? However strong one man might be, how could he bring this story to an end?
Could he really have quelled such a heaven-swallowing calamity? Chen Mu could not imagine what means he might have used.
As though seeing through Chen Mu's thoughts, Li Huanzhen smiled faintly and spoke with the wistfulness of recollection:
"In those days, chaos gripped the realm, and war flared across Jiangnan."
"The Demon Sect aimed its sword at the million inhabitants of Suzhou-Hangzhou. With a hundred thousand corpse soldiers, it arrayed its forces on the southern shore of Tai Lake and proclaimed that Huzhou would fall within three days."
"By then, the Sword Saint had built himself a cottage in Dongting. His sword had remained sealed away for thirty years, and no one came seeking him."
"When this catastrophe struck, he left Dongting alone, traveling through the world with only his sword. He crossed mountains and strode over water, treading upon the waves. After three days of unhurried travel, he reached Tai Lake."
"Brother Chen, what do you think happened next?"
Li Huanzhen left them hanging, asking Chen Mu to guess instead.
By this point, Chen Mu had sobered up completely, and the other drinkers were gathering around them.
"Daoist Li, stop keeping us in