https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-72-Blood-Refinement-Demon-Manual-Arrival-at-Shattered-Stone-Valley/13509950/
https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-74-Fishing-for-Trouble-A-Trap-on-All-Sides/13509952/
Chapter 73: Volcanic Ant Wine & A Chance Encounter at Changlai Tavern
Chapter 73: Volcanic Ant Wine & A Chance Encounter at Changlai Tavern
Shi Valley appeared unremarkable on Li Zhou’s map—a mere speck of a valley. Yet within Cangyan Sect’s territory, it had flourished for over three centuries as a renowned bazaar. Solitary cultivators flocked here to trade goods, and over time, a bustling town had grown at its entrance.
The haphazard streets once housed over a thousand cultivators at their peak. Even now, six to seven hundred permanent residents thrived here year-round. Though most possessed low cultivation realms, their sheer numbers fueled a vibrant market.
Xiao Chen wandered curiously past the roadside stalls. Perhaps due to the valley’s proximity to volcanic ranges to the south, nearly half the goods catered to fire resistance or heat protection—affordable and abundant.
After circling the town, he reached its center: Changlai Tavern, the largest eatery. After days of travel, he craved a change of pace. Entering, he climbed to the second floor and chose a window-side table.
“Any specialties?” he asked.
The waiter poured tea while grinning. “You’ve come to the right place, sir. We’ve two signature dishes you won’t find elsewhere.”
“First, our Volcanic Ant Wine. It’s brewed from local volcanic fruit, infused with volcanic ants, and aged underground at a mountain’s foot for over twenty years.”
“Second, our steamed sea bass—strengthens spleen and stomach, nourishes the liver, and… ahem… boosts kidney vitality.” He emphasized the last words.
“Kidney benefits aside, I’m here for the food,” Xiao Chen chuckled. “Bring both, plus braised ribs in sauce, roasted squab, a cold appetizer platter, and a bowl of yangchun noodles.”
The order totaled 35 spirit sand—equivalent to three and a half spirit stones. Xiao Chen blinked, surprised. A spirit fish sold for two spirit stones, yet this lavish meal with rare wine cost less?
His thoughts paused as the waiter returned with a delicate silver pot—containing merely two taels of wine.
As a teetotaler, he’d ordered it hoping for a unique cultivator benefit. But two taels seemed paltry.
“Hold on,” he called. “This is all? It won’t even wet my throat!”
The waiter apologized. “Apologies, sir. The sect restricts sales to one pot per person daily. More would invite Cangyan Sect’s enforcers.”
Xiong Clan regulates wine this strictly? Xiao Chen sighed, accepting the pot.
One sip sent searing heat down his throat, igniting a fiery coil in his dantian. He hurried to circulate his mana to temper it.
No wonder the limit…
As he meditated, nearby conversation drifted over.
“Hear about Xiong Clan’s new venture? They’re recruiting solitary cultivators at the valley entrance to consign auction goods.”
“Saw it this morning. Only 5% commission if you win a bid. They’re serious this time.”
“And hosting arena matches for their miss’s marriage selection!”
“Of course. Xiong Clan’s in decline. Without fresh talent, they’ll crumble.”
“Wait, what d’you mean?”
“Notice the fish? No shipments from Hulu Lake in half a year. Now it’s Su Family territory north of Southern Lake.”
Xiao Chen perked up at Su Wanning’s family name, but his meal arrived—steamed sea bass.
“Local catch?” he asked.
“South Lake’s finest, sir. Su Family stock—premium quality.”
Fate’s cruel joke. Even here, I’m eating Su’s fish.
He recalled Su Wanning sipping his fish broth once, praising it, then refusing seconds. The fish before him now—tender, savory, leagues beyond mundane fare—made him mutter, “So much for pretty faces.”
Two newcomers clattered upstairs, demanding, “Ten jin of wine! Ten jin beef! Two side dishes!”
The waiter hesitated. “Sirs, our wine limit—”
A man slammed spirit stones down. “Two taels? Barely a mouthful! Bring your strongest brew!”
His companion sighed. “Biaozi, we’re guests here. We’ll drink our own.” He produced a gourd.
Recognizing the gourd’s design—identical to Daoba’s loot—Xiao Chen’s eyes narrowed.
Daoba’s brothers?
Their foreignness to local rules, the gourds, and the name “Biaozi” confirmed it.
Fate indeed had a sense of humor.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
