“Sir has gone down the mountain.”
Miss Tao’er announced.
“Gone down the mountain?”
Tong Zhihuan looked up at the downpour accompanied by flashes of lightning and thunder.
Tong Zhihuan opened his mouth. “Then we…”
“Just focus on guarding the Taoist temple.”
Miss Tao’er replied, but suddenly, a knocking sound ca from outside the temple.
“Huh?”
The knocking was drowned by the heavy rain. Tong Zhihuan wondered if he’d misheard. “Is soone knocking?”
Miss Tao’er blinked. “I didn’t hear anything.”
“Bang, bang, bang!”
The knocking ca again, clear and distinct this ti.
“It is soone.”
Tong Zhihuan ran towards the temple gate, his clothes getting slightly damp from the rain.
“Crick.”
Tong Zhihuan opened the temple door cautiously, feeling nervous. He was partly afraid it might be the Flood Dragon, but also worried Sir had forgotten sothing.
But to his surprise, it wasn’t Sir, nor the Flood Dragon. It was a Taoist priest wearing robes with his hair tied in a bun.
“You…” Tong Zhihuan paused.
The priest in front of him spoke. “Is Mr. Chen here?”
“You’re looking for Sir?” Tong Zhihuan answered. “Sir has just gone down the mountain.”
“Has gone down the mountain?”
The priest muttered, shaking his head. “Arrived just a step too late.”
As he spoke, he turned around, ignoring Tong Zhihuan at the door, and walked towards the foot of the mountain. While walking, he seed to be calculating sothing with his fingers.
“Hey! What did you need Sir for?” Tong Zhihuan called out.
But the man acted as if he couldn’t hear, continuing into the wind and rain.
“BOOM!”
A flash of lightning lit up the sky.
This ti, Tong Zhihuan saw the figure walking in the rain clearly: a man in Taoist robes, handso in appearance, yet not a single drop of rain seed to touch his clothes.
Tong Zhihuan instantly realized.
This person…
Wasn’t mortal!
However, seeing him act so mysteriously, Tong Zhihuan couldn’t help but feel a new wave of concern.
But then he thought again: Who was his Master? What deity, no matter how powerful, could possibly compare?
With this in mind, Tong Zhihuan dismissed his worry. He closed the temple gate firmly and went back inside.
…
The sudden downpour cast a shadow over the entire Autumn Moon Market. Within monts, the streets were deserted.
The lights that had been lit in every household were blown out by the fierce wind, plunging everything into darkness.
The tavern at West Bridge was shut tight.
A waiter protected an Oil Lamp, providing the only glimr of light within.
Xiaoliu sat across the table from Sir.
“I really never seen rain this heavy before,” Xiaoliu couldn’t help remarking.
“It won’t last long,” Chen Changsheng stated.
Xiaoliu offered a relaxed smile. “Then it shouldn’t last long.”
The waiter, listening to the Manager and this Sir converse, felt a bit confused.
He recalled how Mr. Chen had entered the Wine Tavern without an umbrella earlier, yet arrived completely untouched by the rain. Even his shoes showed no trace of mud or dust.
‘Could he be a Martial Artist?’
The waiter pondered this, but quickly dismissed the idea.
“KABOOM!!”
Thunder rolled on. Chen Changsheng raised a hand, performing a brief calculation. It seed the Black Flood Dragon would reach West Bridge in about a quarter of an hour.
“Please, Sir, have so wine.”
Xiaoliu refilled Chen Changsheng’s cup.
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“Thank you.”
Chen Changsheng took a sip, then noticed the scroll of calligraphy hanging on the tavern wall.
He couldn’t help a chuckle. “You really did hang that up?”
Xiaoliu replied, “Why not? Your handwriting is precious, Sir. Of course it deserves the most prominent spot.”
“It’s not very good looking,” Chen Changsheng said self-deprecatingly.
Xiaoliu waved his hand decisively. “Anyone who dares say otherwise gets kicked right out of here.”
“Hey, don’t do that. You’re running a business. Can’t afford to drive custors away.”
Chen Changsheng laughed. “Let people call it ugly or fine. I know my own writing isn’t great.”
Xiaoliu just smiled without explaining, making it clear he truly would throw people out.
Chen Changsheng offered a warning. “No matter what sounds you hear outside tonight, don’t leave this tavern. Also, keep an eye on the inn by the river.” He paused aningfully. “The water level might rise dangerously.”
Xiaoliu beca surprised. “River flooding?”
Chen Changsheng nodded. “Correct.”
It was well known that the river had never flooded in hundreds of years. Old-tirs passed down stories confirming it; no flood had ever been recorded here.
“Would the river really overflow?” the waiter asked, disbelief plain in his tone.
But Xiaoliu trusted Sir implicitly. “Find heavy blocks and stones. Pad the door sills twice as high! Now!” he commanded the waiter. This was the second step; inspect every corner for leaks and seal them tight! Be fast!”
Seeing the Manager’s serious expression, the waiter didn’t dare argue.
He truly didn’t believe the water would rise.
He couldn’t fathom why the Manager listened so unquestioningly to this Gentleman.
“Just pointless work,” he muttered under his breath as he went to fetch stones for the door base.
As the waiter bent down, a sharp knocking sounded at the door.
“Knock! Knock! Knock!”
“Trouble opening up!” yelled a muffled shout.
“Who is it?” the waiter called back, straightening up, utterly puzzled. “Soone’s really roaming around out in this storm?”
Chen Changsheng and Xiaoliu also turned their attention towards the door.
“Creeeeeak…”
The mont the door opened, the howling wind rushed in.
A figure robed in Taoist garb stepped smartly into the Wine Tavern.
The waiter quickly slamd the door shut behind him, his shoes instantly getting soaked by water rushing past.
The Taoist wore his hair tied up with a simple peachwood pin. His robe seed plain with no adornnts, looking thoroughly ordinary. Yet as his sharp eyes swept the room and settled on Chen Changsheng, a glimr of recognition flashed, vanishing almost instantly.
Chen Changsheng appeared to have guessed the visitor’s identity. He turned calmly to Xiaoliu. “Manager Xiaoliu,” he began gently, “don’t you have urgent matters attending the inn? Especially regarding the… rising water.”
“Ah, Sir, I…” Xiaoliu started to say there was nothing, then swiftly caught on.
This Taoist entering now was untouched by the storm; clearly, he wasn’t an ordinary mortal. The subtle look from Mr. Chen spoke volus.
“Such a fool, how could I forget?” Xiaoliu feigned a slap to his own forehead. Stepping up, he grabbed the waiter firmly by the arm. “Indeed! Thank you for the reminder, Sir. Co along, Xiao’er. Shut the door fully behind us!” His voice carried, leading the bewildered waiter towards the back room.
The waiter protested weakly as Xiaoliu pushed him. “Manager, the sealing task…”
“Later!” Xiaoliu cut him off tersely, steering them both into the Inn’s private quarters. He firmly closed that door, turning serious. “You will stay here and absorb this instruction: Under no circumstance listen to the conversation happening out front. Not intentionally… not accidentally either. Understood?”
Seeing the Manager’s unusually stern gaze, the waiter gulped hard. “Y… yes sir. Understood.”
…
The Taoist took his place opposite Chen Changsheng at the table.
Chen Changsheng t his gaze, then, without hurry, lifted the wine jug. Pouring a fresh cupful, he silently slid it across towards the newcor.
The Taoist looked at the cup, lifted it wordlessly, and drained it in one go.
“Mm,” he smacked his lips thoughtfully. “Not bad wine.”
“Well.” Chen Changsheng arched an eyebrow ever so slightly. “Would the fad Lord of Cloud Floating Mountain truly deign to praise common tavern wine?”
Zhao Yuqing chuckled softly. “When poured by you? Then its quality significantly improves.”
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