Chapter 147: Turmoil on the Commercial Street (Part III)

Take this bowl of Ganjiang and Moye wine, for instance. Just by observing its color and smelling its aroma, one knows it is an absolute masterpiece. Gentle on the outside yet unyielding within, it resembles a tender and pitiable maiden at first glance, only to reveal the soul of a fierce and indomitable hero upon closer acquaintance.

The patrons shouted over one another, some even beginning to hurl playful jeers.

"Bottoms up! How can the Wine Immortal turn coward?"

"Ganjiang and Moye truly lives up to its legendary reputation! If I weren't a total teetotaler, I'd have a go at the Bronze Sword and the Yuchang Sword that came before. Otherwise, I'd surely join in for a few hearty drinks!"

"A few cups can hardly be called hearty! One must drink with abandon, just like them!"

Yanshan felt his ears begin to ring, with only a chaotic roar echoing in his mind. He could no longer hear the words of those around him, left stranded alone in a swirling void of confusion. Helpless and overwhelmed, a dry, burning heat coursed through his entire body. A surging warmth gathered in his chest, threatening to burst forth and release its fury at any second, yet it remained stubbornly trapped, pent-up inside him, breeding a profound sense of anxiety.

The contenders for the supreme first-place title kept shifting, until finally, only the patron who had initially started shouting insults at Yanshan remained standing, leading Yanshan by a mere single bowl of wine. Both the tabletops and the floor were in utter disarray, with broken bowls and spilled liquor scattered everywhere.

Yanshan snapped, "You scoundrel, still putting up a front? I'll soon have a physician come to examine that brain of yours."

Slumped over the table, the patron clutched the bowl of Ganjiang and Moye in both hands. His gaze was vacant, yet he stubbornly refused to yield.

"Country bumpkin, cease your arrogance! Let me teach you a proper lesson!"

Provoked, Yanshan stared fixedly at the patron. Though he could muster little facial expression, he locked his eyes onto his rival, hoping to pierce his very soul and defeat him with pure imposing presence, thus winning without drawing a blade.

In reality, however, from Yunniang’s perspective, it simply looked like two drunken fools bickering, neither willing to admit defeat, stubbornly sacrificing everything for pride's sake.

Yunniang chimed in, "Anyone capable of drinking Ganjiang and Moye is a true hero. Since drinking all four bowls is too much to ask, whoever perseveres to the end after drinking the most shall be the victor."

Hearing this, the patron grew wildly excited, roaring and hollering at the top of his lungs.

"Hey! Did you hear that? You don't have to finish all the wine! Hurry up and admit defeat! I've won, I've won, stop pouring that liquor down your gullet!"

The bowl of Ganjiang and Moye before him made the world sway as if he were drifting from the clouds. Yanshan glanced once more at Yunniang, squinting his eyes with a faint smile.

"Surrender? Out of the question..."

Having spoken, Yanshan lifted the bowl and drained it in a single breath. He wiped his mouth with the grand air of a sovereign ruling over all creation. The patron wore a look of utter agony as he struggled to pick up the third bowl of Ganjiang and Moye, brushed it against his lips for a single sip, and nearly vomited it back out.

The two men traded blows blow for blow, locked in a fierce, inseparable stalemate. The title of Wine Immortal had long since lost its importance; what remained was a duel of masculine dignity. With only two bowls left between them, whoever could finish drinking them would set an unbreakable record.

Yunniang sighed inwardly with silent admiration. She had never expected that Yanshan, who appeared so frail and delicate, was actually a stubborn, courageous tough guy obsessed with his pride. She found herself deeply impressed by him.

After struggling against each other time and again, the patron and Yanshan both downed their drinks, burst into hearty laughter, and then swayed to their feet.

The patron panted, "That's the third bowl. This one is in your honor!"

Yanshan raised his empty bowl in response. With a broad smile, the patron collapsed sideways onto the floor, completely motionless!

The entire tavern erupted into wild celebration, cheering the birth of a new Wine Immortal! Beaming with joy, Yunniang walked over to Yanshan, her eyes brimming with deep, unspoken affection.

Yet Yanshan’s eyes were filled with a profound sense of desolation and reluctance. Becoming the Wine Immortal had not brought him much joy, but the fierce drinking contest had granted him a level of attention he had never experienced before. The tavern was packed with patrons who had come specifically to watch the competition; every single person had cheered for them and held their breath at the tense, nail-biting state of the match. He had once regretted not participating in the Cuju tournament to draw the eyes of the crowd like Rogan did, but now, all such regrets vanished. He had found his own worth realized in a place no one else could ever replace.

Gazing at Yunniang’s alluring visage, Yanshan raised the final bowl of Ganjiang and Moye wine. The entire tavern fell silent in shock before bursting into thunderous applause. Yunniang’s expression of joy instantly dissolved into deep anxiety, terrified that this final bowl of wine would prove to be the straw that broke the camel's back for Yanshan.

Yanshan declared, "This last bowl is for Yunniang!"

He drained it in one gulp, hurled the empty bowl to the ground, and let out a long, defiant roar toward the heavens. Yanshan was the undisputed master of this establishment. As he let out a hearty, carefree laugh, the patrons and onlookers responded with wave after wave of fervent applause, all dedicated to this true Wine Immortal.

Amidst the roaring cheers, Yanshan collapsed to the floor. He failed to hear Yunniang’s frantic cries, nor could he hear the shouts of the crowd. The world shrank down to encompass only himself and an endless expanse of darkness, yet he lost consciousness with a faint, lingering smile still upon his lips.

On the other side of the street, Xiaozhi was struggling to find a shopkeeper willing to listen to him. Most turned him away or drove him out, making him deeply realize how difficult community work truly was. Sighing, he decided to head over to visit Sima Ge, the master craftsman under whom he had learned his woodworking skills.

"Master Sima, I've come again."

Sima Ge snapped, "I've told you countless times, my name is Sima Sima!"

"Alright, Sima."

"You're the Sima! What kind of nonsense are you spouting?"

Xiaozhi constantly managed to stumble into Sima Ge’s minefield of pet peeves, routinely earning a fierce scolding from his hot-tempered master for reasons unknown.

Sima Ge grumbled, "I haven't seen you around in ages. Where have you been running wild lately?"

Before Xiaozhi could reply, Sima Ge pressed on.

"What about that wooden bed you were working on last time? Why is there still no follow-up?"

At a loss for how to answer, Xiaozhi suddenly remembered he had never told Sima Ge about establishing the Datang All-Things Agency alongside Rogan and the others.

"Procrastination! You're always dragging your feet. By the time you actually master this craft, you'll already have one foot in the grave!"

Seizing the opening, Xiaozhi hurriedly interjected, "Actually, that's not it. I recently set up an All-Things Agency in Chang'an with some friends, and we've had quite a few things to take care of."

"What? You have things to take care of? Then what are you still doing here? Off with you, go on, get out!"

Chased away by his master yet again, Xiaozhi found it nearly impossible to comprehend Sima Ge using normal human logic.

Logically speaking, if one traced Sima Ge’s lineage back through his family tree, his ancestors should be the descendants of the Sima clan from the Jin Dynasty. Yet once you learned anything about the historical Sima family, you would realize they bore no resemblance whatsoever to the short-tempered Sima Ge standing before you. The Sima family—or rather, the father and son of the Three Kingdoms era—could hardly be described as anything less than treacherous, cunning, deeply calculating, brilliant in strategy, and ruthless to the core. Of those four traits, Sima Ge seemed to have inherited only brilliance—specifically, brilliant craftsmanship. Within the city of Chang'an, everyone knew that Sima Ge’s woodworking skills were peerless. Countless princes and nobles invited him to their estates to build structures or frame houses. Every time Xiaozhi went out on a job with Sima Ge, the sheer absurdity of it made him feel as though the tides of fortune were spinning wildly. Sometimes, he couldn't help wondering: could the supreme and untouchable imperial family, the Li clan, one day sink to such a state as well?

Not daring to let his thoughts wander any further, Xiaozhi watched Sima Ge sawing a piece of wood in lonely solitude, feeling a profound wave of melancholy.

"If we could deal with those local street ruffians who are always bullying you and that old Huang fellow, would you be interested?"

Sima Ge paused, looked at Xiaozhi, and let out an understanding smile.

"If those bullies could be dealt with, someone would have stepped up long ago. The fact that no one has solved it yet means they surely have powerful backers shielding them from behind."

Xiaozhi insisted, "Many hands make light work. If we gather the strength of all of us together, we can definitely accomplish something great."