Chapter 135: Bring the Wine!

"It is finally over."

The martial artists in the distance looked up to see the imperial palace, now shattered into ruins. The colossal fox demon had vanished, leaving behind only a deep, jagged sword mark gouged into the earth.

High above, the newly crowned Emperor of the human realm withdrew the Imperial Sword, his gaze sweeping over the various events unfolding throughout the capital.

The dark clouds had long since dispersed, and the sky had cleared. The rising sun in the distance shone like fire, while the wispy clouds on the horizon resembled burning embers or colorful ribbons, painting the entire scene in a magnificent, crimson glow.

"Hahahaha! What an incredible battle!" a burly man laughed.

"Indeed!"

"It was worth spending the whole night fighting and getting drenched in the rain."

"Hahahaha! Magnificent!"

The martial artists chatted and joked, dismissing their aching bodies as if it were nothing.

Li Zhi let out a sigh. Mr. Wen asked with a puzzled look, "What is it, nephew?"

Li Zhi chuckled and scratched his head. He suddenly noticed he was still holding his large broadsword. He was about to toss it aside, but after a moment's thought, he carefully sheathed it and strapped it to his back.

Feeling a bit bashful, he said, "It’s quite embarrassing to admit, but I rarely drink. I don’t know why, but I find myself craving a small cup right now."

The boisterous crowd of martial artists fell silent.

Tie Ying threw an arm around Li Zhi’s neck and laughed heartily, "You’re an interesting lad! I knew at a glance that you were one of us, a true wanderer of the world. Come, come! Let’s have a drink together, brother!"

Nearby, a man from the Ministry of Justice indignantly pulled Tie Ying away, scolding, "What are you talking about? Young Master Li has a bond with our Ministry; he is a pillar of the new dynasty! If anyone is going to drink with him, it’s us!"

The two groups began to bicker noisily again.

The martial artists laughed, and a gallant hero cupped his hands and suggested, "In that case, why don't we all have a few rounds?"

"That’s the spirit!"

"Such a joyous occasion—it calls for a grand celebration!"

With that, the rowdy crowd began scrounging for wine from the various taverns.

Before the palace, Ji Huo exhaled and instinctively looked toward Xia Ningchang, who happened to be looking at him at the same time.

The two exchanged a smile.

"How do you feel, Lady Xia?" Ji Huo asked.

Xia Ningchang put away her Demonic Dragon Spear and reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, the sunlight catching her locks and tinting them gold.

"It is..." Xia Ningchang smiled, her eyes resting on Ji Huo's face, "...quite interesting."

Ji Huo nodded with a smile, "I agree."

"That great demon calculated everything, with one scheme linked to the next. Who would have thought it would end up defeated by you two brothers in such a bizarre fashion?" Xia Ningchang remarked softly.

Ji Huo laughed, "It wasn't defeated by us brothers, but by the backlash of the Great Zhou itself—by the hands of its countless common people."

Xia Ningchang nodded slightly, then smiled, "Young Master Ji is right. I have learned something today."

Ji Huo was about to say more, but Xia Ningchang suddenly added with a playful, enigmatic smile, "But when exactly will Young Master Ji fulfill his promise?"

Ji Huo opened his mouth slightly, then clapped his hands and laughed, "That’s easy! I’ll spend the next few days cooking up a few tables of food for you."

"I want meat!"

"No problem! Plenty of it, and you'll be full! My braised pork is a specialty!"

Ji Junhong looked up at the sky, having maintained his imposing, imperial posture for quite some time.

In truth, he could have descended long ago, and there was nothing particularly interesting to see in the sky, but seeing the two on the ground still chatting, he had been forced to maintain his pose.

The martial artists in the distance were already finding wine jars and setting up tables for an open-air feast, ready to drink.

*Those two are still chatting.*

The Flying Bear Army, having finished clearing out the mindless undead and securing the area under Lu Deshui’s command, was taking over the city, while the rest of the soldiers returned to their camp.

*Those two are still chatting.*

He could feel that the soldiers and officials from all corners of the Great Zhou were sending people toward the capital, and those who had been hiding in the surroundings were already approaching.

*Those two are still chatting.*

Ji Junhong craned his neck, twisting it to relieve the stiffness. At that moment, he finally understood the cold, lonely nature of an emperor.

One cannot bow one's head; the crown might fall.

"Ahem!"

After waiting for a long time, Ji Junhong could no longer bear it. He descended from the sky and smiled, "Are you two still chatting?"

Xia Ningchang looked flustered, her gaze darting away as she said awkwardly, "Greetings, Eldest Young Master."

Ji Junhong smiled and said, "You and Huo are the same age. If you don't mind, calling me 'Big Brother' would be just fine."

*Besides, it's not like I didn't hear you. I heard everything clearly while I was fighting.*

Xia Ningchang’s lips parted slightly, and she hesitantly whispered, "Big Brother."

Ji Junhong’s face lit up with a grin, while Ji Huo chided, "Big Brother, what’s the matter? I thought you were enjoying the breeze up there."

Ji Junhong shrugged innocently, "Actually, I could have flown straight back to the Duke’s Mansion, but there is something you need to know, younger brother."

"What is it?" Ji Huo asked, puzzled.

Ji Junhong pointed in a certain direction, "A hundred miles away, Father is still fighting the Sword Saint."

"..."

Ji Huo’s mouth fell open, "The great demon is dead, shouldn't Father’s spell be broken by now? Why are they still fighting?"

A glint of amusement appeared in the corner of Ji Junhong’s eyes as he shrugged, "I suppose they’ve just gotten fired up."

That was entirely possible...

His father had woken up to find he was the remnant of a former dynasty, and his composure likely shattered. He was probably feeling depressed, and with the Sword Saint constantly provoking him, his temper must have flared up.

"Are you going to handle it, or should I?" Ji Junhong asked.

"I'll go. You probably have a lot on your plate now, Big Brother. I’m mostly free," Ji Huo said, then suddenly cupped his hands with a smile, "Congratulations, Your Majesty, on successfully destroying the Great Zhou’s demon kingdom and establishing an supreme empire!"

Ji Junhong laughed and cursed, "Get out of here! Let me tell you, I cannot handle this country alone. This nation cannot do without you, so don't even think about dumping this burden and leaving."

"Haha! That’s not certain! I’ve grown accustomed to being lazy, and I’ve developed an illness where I feel terrible the moment I step into officialdom. I can’t stand it! Ah! Enough! Big Brother, just thinking about it makes me dizzy!"

Ji Huo laughed and grabbed Xia Ningchang’s hand.

Xia Ningchang turned into a dragon with tacit understanding, and the two sped off into the distance.

Ji Junhong watched the black dragon disappear, faintly hearing their laughter, and shook his head with a smile.

He scanned the area and muttered to himself, "Strange, where did Mr. Wen go? This is exactly the time when he is needed."

As his gaze swept across the area, it seemed to pierce through the void and obstacles, easily finding Mr. Wen.

"Hahahaha! Old Wen! Can you still hold your liquor?"

Several burly, round-faced men with bare chests and thick beards had their arms draped over Mr. Wen’s shoulders, all of them thoroughly drunk.

Mr. Wen’s face was flushed red with intoxication. He rolled up his sleeves, hoisted a large jar of wine, and slurred, "What kind of talk is that! I’m in top form every time I wake up! Today, I’ll show you what I’m made of!"

With that, Mr. Wen prepared to drink from the jar.

At that moment, he felt something. He looked up toward the high sky, as if seeing something invisible to the naked eye.

His body trembled, a look of relief and nostalgic longing appearing in his eyes. He glanced at Li Zhi, who was already drinking wildly with the martial artists, looking nothing like a scholar.

Mr. Wen smiled, his eyes clearing for a moment. He held the wine jar toward the sky, tapped the ground three times with it, and then hoisted it up, gulping down the liquor in large mouthfuls.

The wine spilled, soaking his beard and clothes.

Finally, Mr. Wen crudely slammed the jar onto the ground, stepped onto a chair, and laughed loudly, "Hahahaha! Such a joyous occasion—it calls for a grand celebration!"

"Old Wen! Are you feeding the fish?"

"I can't let this slide! Another jar!"

"Bring more wine!"