The Drunken Immortal Pavilion and a Familiar Shadow

Under the constant care of this ‘benevolent brother’ throughout his journey, Ye Di had traveled for several days without spending a single coin from the travel funds in his satchel. Yet, at every inn he stayed, the proprietors greeted him with uniform smiles, fawning and flattering, as if he were a living god of wealth.

On this particular day, with the sun blazing overhead, Ye Di quickened his pace. After traversing several towns, he finally arrived at the grand gates of Quzhou City.

An ancient adage spoke of ‘a thoroughfare to nine provinces.’ While not specifically coined for Quzhou, standing on the city’s main road, one could indeed perceive its expansive, all-encompassing cultural character, a true hub of diverse human activity.

To its north lay the ancient capital of Luoyang; to the west, the perilous strategic stronghold of Jiangzhou. Southward, it bordered Guizhou, renowned for its unparalleled feng shui, while to the east nestled Huzhou, a veritable paradise on earth.

A century prior, Ye Di himself had once paused in Quzhou, lingering for several days.

Yet, during that visit, his mind had been consumed by sword practice, and, perhaps more significantly, by romantic dalliances with Senior Sister Murong under the moonlight. Consequently, many of Quzhou’s scenic wonders remained a blur in his memory.

‘It is often true that people become ensnared by the immediate, overlooking the more magnificent vistas that lie beyond,’ Ye Di mused.

Strolling leisurely, Ye Di sought out the largest local establishment, a grand restaurant where he could finally settle.

This particular establishment, the Drunken Immortal Pavilion, likely hadn’t existed a century ago.

Within the bustling main hall, as he waited, Ye Di found his thoughts drifting back to the striking yellow pearwood sign he had noticed at the entrance.

The sign was conspicuously placed, and with the pavilion situated in the heart of a bustling market, its business naturally thrived amidst the throngs of people.

Indeed, taverns often served as melting pots where diverse individuals converged and information flowed freely. For anyone, be they common folk or formidable martial artists, seeking to uncover local gossip or tales of the Jianghu, such a place was ideal.

As his thoughts meandered, a soft clatter suddenly drew his attention forward.

A waiter, laden with bowls and platters, began to meticulously arrange the freshly prepared dishes upon the tabletop.

Ye Di extended a hand, halting the waiter’s movements.

“Wait,” he asked, “what are these particular dishes?”

The waiter, observing his expression, instantly plastered on a smile and hastily replied:

“Esteemed guest,” he began soothingly, “this dish right beside you is the ‘Mushroom Fat Chicken.’ Over there, that plate of golden strips is our ‘Mandarin Duck Delight,’ and this bowl contains our ‘Chicken Gizzard Soup,’ enhanced with cherries and tender bamboo shoots…”

Ye Di cut him off.

“I am familiar with these dishes,” Ye Di stated. “My question is: where are the dishes I actually ordered? I certainly don’t recall selecting any of these.”

The waiter froze, a flicker of panic in his eyes. He instinctively wiped his brow with his sleeve, stammering incoherently.

“Th-this, this…”

“Away with you! Out of my sight!”

A crude bellow erupted from behind, and someone roughly kicked the waiter aside.

Judging by his attire, the newcomer appeared to be the tavern’s proprietor.

Clad in a blue cloth gown and a square cap, he sported a significant potbelly, swaying noticeably as he waddled towards their table.

Upon spotting Ye Di by the table, he promptly adjusted his sleeves, cupped his hands in a respectful bow, and addressed him.

“Indeed, esteemed guest,” he declared with a smile. “These are precisely the dishes you ordered.”

Ye Di’s brow furrowed.

“Has someone settled my bill again?” he inquired.

The proprietor chuckled.

“That is correct.”

Ye Di pressed on.

“Might you be able to provide me with some details about this individual?” he asked. “I am greatly indebted to their generosity and wish to express my gratitude.”

The proprietor replied.

“Ah, that presents quite a predicament…”

Ye Di was about to speak further when a sudden, thunderous roar erupted from a nearby table.

“Blast it all!” a voice boomed. “I’ve been waiting for my liquor and beef for ages, yet these other tables are already feasting so splendidly?!”

Both men turned, their gazes following the sound.

Before them stood a burly, bearded man, roughly eight feet tall. He slammed his fist onto the table with such force that the bowls and platters leaped into the air. When they finally settled, several fine cracks had already marred the pearwood surface.

The proprietor gasped in alarm and hurried over to placate the imposing figure.

“Esteemed guest,” he began soothingly, “please, temper your impatience. Your meal will be served to you very shortly…”

Yet, the burly man showed no appreciation whatsoever. His tiger-like eyes wide with fury, he seized the proprietor by his collar and bellowed.

“I’ve had a change of heart! I want to eat what’s on that table over there! Now hurry up and tell that scoundrel to clear out!”

Choked by the grip, the proprietor struggled for breath, his face rapidly cycling between pallor and blue.

He could only manage a few broken words.

“Th-that guest… has already paid…”

The burly man roared in outrage.

“Paid? Do you imply that I, your grandpa, cannot afford it? Take this!”

Immediately, he brought his five fingers together, raising his hand to strike down upon the proprietor’s neck.

Yet, his arm froze mid-air, unable to complete its descent.

The burly man gasped in surprise, discovering his wrist was firmly held. He whirled around, glaring furiously, and bellowed.

“Which blind bastard dares…”

Ye Di, still gripping the man’s wrist, gave it a sharp twist.

“CRACK!”

The burly man, so arrogant moments before, instantly blanched with agony. He collapsed to his knees with a loud *thump*, clutching his broken right hand and writhing on the floor.

Ye Di crouched down to his level.

“My good fellow,” he said mildly, “if you desired my meal, you simply needed to ask politely. Why resort to such a display of temper?”

As he spoke, Ye Di picked up the plate of ‘Mandarin Duck Delight’ from the table. He then proceeded to tip its contents, strip by strip, directly onto the man’s face. The burly man instantly let out a series of ear-splitting squeals, like a pig being scalded alive. “Ah! Ah! Ah!”

Suddenly, a faint giggle drifted in from outside the window, a sound that Ye Di, with his keen senses, instantly detected.

Without a change in expression, he reached for a bowl of ‘Seasonal Fresh Soup.’ The blue-and-white porcelain rim tilted, and the liquid cascaded down like a miniature waterfall, drenching the man’s head.

On the face of the burly man, who was still howling like a slaughtered pig, several blisters immediately began to swell.

Ye Di inquired.

“My friend, have you had your fill?” he asked. “If you’re not quite satisfied, I have plenty more right here.”

Rising to his feet, Ye Di made to reach for the ‘Five-Shredded Chicken,’ ‘Fried Spring Rolls,’ and ‘Donkey Meat Noodles.’ At this, the burly man frantically waved his hands in refusal, but his mouth was so blistered from the scalding that his words came out garbled.

“N-no, no more…” he slurred, “Th-this young hero… c-can’t eat…”

With a casual clap of his hands, Ye Di, feigning disinterest, returned the bowls and platters to the table.

The quick-witted proprietor had already signaled with his eyes for the waiter to swiftly clean the scene. He then sidled up to Ye Di, a fawning smile plastered across his face.

“My lord, you are indeed a master of hidden depths!” he gushed. “No wonder…”

He had been about to say, ‘No wonder such a radiant young lady is always thinking of you,’ but a quick glance caught sight of a charming, adorable girl peeking over the windowsill. Her cheeks were puffed out, her round, almond-shaped eyes wide, glaring fiercely at the proprietor as if to warn him against speaking further.

The proprietor, his words caught in his throat, hastily clamped his mouth shut.

Ye Di’s ears were sharp, and he would not let the matter drop. He pressed further.

“No wonder what?”

The proprietor’s eyes darted about before he responded.

“No wonder so many friends are willing to generously open their purses for you! Your chivalry is as vast as the clouds, your integrity as lofty as…”

His flattery remained unfinished as Ye Di, with a dismissive flick of his sleeve, departed the establishment.

With the words still stuck in his throat, the proprietor’s gaze fell upon the twitching hulk on the floor.

He immediately vented his frustration. “Someone! Throw this oaf out! Let these ungrateful wretches see who dares to disrespect my Drunken Immortal Pavilion!”

****

Ye Di stepped out of the tavern and rejoined the bustling crowd.

He appeared to be in excellent spirits, his already handsome features now exuding an even more dashing and dignified air. This drew many a lingering, wistful glance from the young ladies strolling along the street.

At that moment, he caught the faint sound of grinding teeth and what sounded like an annoyed grumble.

Ye Di feigned indifference, weaving through the streets until he turned into a small alleyway.

Willows swayed gracefully along the path, their slender branches trailing like silken threads. As the wind stirred through their tips, they resembled a maiden’s flowing hair.

Here, several well-arranged courtyards stood, all grand residences belonging to prominent families.

The path itself was paved with neat bluestone slabs, echoing with a soft ‘tap-tap’ beneath his feet. This place bore the nickname ‘Willow Lane,’ known as Quzhou City’s largest pleasure district.

Just a few more steps, and he could see the Cloud Brocade Pavilion, standing grandly beside the wide road.

Ye Di walked straight towards it, never once looking back.

Behind him, a graceful figure dropped from the eaves of a nearby house. Seeing the direction he was heading—towards the elaborately carved, splendid Cloud Brocade Pavilion—her eyes immediately reddened.

Though she had long been sheltered in her boudoir, she was not so naive as to be ignorant of what such a place entailed. She bit her lip, nearly shedding tears in her vexation.

Despite having diligently followed him the entire way, always arranging his travel ahead of time and settling his bills, how could she possibly enter *that* kind of establishment?

She recalled how, when he had left without a word, some inexplicable impulse had driven her to gather some travel funds and luggage. She had then scaled her courtyard wall and pursued him through the night.

Fortunately, he traveled at a leisurely pace, stopping frequently. With her rudimentary martial arts skills, she had managed to keep up effortlessly.

Now, they had reached this bustling Quzhou City, a hub of activity.

She was increasingly far from home, no longer as familiar with her surroundings as she once was. Her travel funds were also nearly depleted.

And now, she had watched him with her own eyes enter the Cloud Brocade Pavilion, a place for seeking fleeting pleasures.

Grief welled up within her, and she suddenly plopped down onto the ground. Like a wronged young wife, she silently wiped away her tears.

As she sobbed, a figure cast a shadow over the sunlight before her.

She jolted, fearing she had encountered a villain. She cautiously looked up, and upon recognizing the newcomer, the tears she had barely managed to hold back immediately burst forth like a dam breaking, streaming down her fair cheeks.

The person scratched their head, seemingly unaccustomed to such a situation. They could only half-crouch, hesitantly patting her shoulder, and speaking as gently as possible.

“Miss Xu… are you worried I’ll default on my debt? Please don’t cry, I promise I’ll pay you back…”