Since early that morning, Yin San had been squatting in the treetop, pelting rats. The heap of gravel bundled in his red robe was now less than half its original size.
He used no Divine Ability or sword technique, simply throwing stones from where he sat.
Even when he hit them, the rats suffered no real injury, yet he would laugh happily. If he missed, however, there was absolutely no trace of cheerful acceptance of defeat on his face. He grew furious and even swore.
The Profound Yin Ancestor and Yin Phoenix were even somewhat worried that his setback in Chaoge City had unhinged his mind.
Fortunately, he responded to the Profound Yin Ancestor just then. It seemed the words "grown old" had touched not only Yin Phoenix, but him as well.
Yin San rose, shook out his clothes, scattered all the remaining gravel beneath the pagoda tree, then leaped into the night sky.
A rapid patter rang out as dozens of stones struck the ground.
He had already flown back and forth through the night sky hundreds of times.
His red robe fluttered like dancing wings, tracing hundreds of lines of obscure significance against the black backdrop, which finally overlapped and combined into an exceedingly intricate pattern.
Even with the Profound Yin Ancestor's abilities and Yin Phoenix's knowledge, neither could discern what the pattern meant.
"I can't understand why I keep losing either, suffering defeat after defeat."
Yin San landed in the Farmhouse Courtyard and accepted the cup of Green Wine the Old Ancestor brought him. He took a slow sip, a satisfied expression appearing on his clean, delicate face. A moment later, he continued, "Surely it can't be because my fondness for wine keeps ruining things?"
The joke was not funny, but the Profound Yin Ancestor and Yin