Pan Long was as good as his word: he went out to eat and drink his fill.
He came to a bustling town and couldn't be bothered to ask its name. He picked a fairly large inn, walked up to the counter, and set down a gold ingot.
"Will you be dining or staying the night, sir?" The innkeeper gave a look, and a waiter who seemed on familiar terms with everyone hurried over.
"Eating, drinking, and staying." Pan Long smiled without warmth. "I've spent months in the mountains. I've nearly forgotten what food cooked by human hands tastes like. Bring me a tableful of your bestsellers, your proudest dishes, and whatever Wine and food best represents this place."
"You don't need this much money for that," the innkeeper said. "One or two taels of silver would be plenty."
"Use the rest to buy everyone a drink," Pan Long said. "I'm bored out of my mind, so drinks are on me. Just one condition: I have Wine. Does anyone have a story?"
Some diners had already noticed what was happening. One called out, "I've spent more than ten years roaming north and south, and I've got a bellyful of stories. I doubt you've got enough Wine to trade for them all!"
Pan Long smiled at the innkeeper. "See? There's your first drinker."
Just as he had said, his offer to trade Wine for stories drew plenty of drinkers.
The Martial World was vast, with dragons and snakes lurking everywhere and champions beyond counting. This town was prosperous too, and no one knew how many wanderers passed through each day. Naturally, plenty were willing to trade a story of their own for a jug of Wine.
In truth, many people of the Martial World were happy to tell others their stories