"Besides, it's the oldest main street in Panlong City! Fifteen years ago there were only so few storefronts, and today there are still only so few—not a single one more!"
He jabbed a forefinger hard into the empty air before him. "Money can't even buy one! You tell me, is it in demand or what?"
He Lingchuan chuckled. "Tianshuang Restaurant?"
"Who'd go to that dump? Even their best wine has water secretly mixed into it," Hu Min said dismissively. "If we're going, we're going to Yixiang Restaurant!"
Yixiang Restaurant's prestige showed in its ambiance—and in food and drinks that cost double what a common tavern like Tianshuang Restaurant charged.
He Lingchuan patted his pockets. Fortunately, he had saved a bit of money from his previous patrol missions.
Xiao Maoliang was busy, but A'luo showed up as invited. He Lingchuan also invited Liu Tong, Door Plank, Skinny, and Willow. The moment his current teammates heard he was hosting drinks at Yixiang Restaurant, they came running without a second thought.
Only then did He Lingchuan learn that their squad had lost three members in the fierce fighting eight days ago, leaving only six survivors including himself. Such roster numbers would definitely have to be reorganized, but until new recruits were brought in, they could take a short breather.
The sacrifice of comrades was always a sorrowful thing. Yet no one showed much grief; instead, they drank and ate with great gusto.
He Lingchuan knew these people were used to living on the edge of a blade. They had long looked past life and death, preferring to seize pleasure while they could.
Even if sorrow came, it was fleeting.
Living in Panlong City, one was forced to learn to take things in stride.
Whenever a battle of any size ended, the city's eateries, taverns, and pleasure houses did booming business. Soldiers who had just received their military merit rewards didn't mind throwing money around town to buy some fun and boost the local economy.
This noon, Yixiang Restaurant was packed to the gills.
Door Plank stood up with his cup and roared at the room, "He Lingchuan is here! Who wants to have a drink with him?"
The hall fell silent at once, every head turning their way.
Door Plank pointed repeatedly at He Lingchuan and shouted again, "Well? Who's in?"
With a roar, voices clamored in response.
A fellow even brawnier than Door Plank vaulted over his bench and strode up to He Lingchuan in two paces, sloshing half his cup of wine onto the floor.
He raised the cup level with his nose and boomed, "A fine man! I toast to you!"
What else could He Lingchuan say? He could only raise his cup and drain it in one gulp.
Skinny hurriedly poured him another.
Two more jostled their way over, one leading by half a step, thrusting his wine cup nearly into He Lingchuan's nose. "You brought my fiancée back. I thank you!"
He Lingchuan blinked in surprise. The crowd burst into loud laughter, several people heckling, "The man risked his life to send your woman back, and all you give him is cheap talk? No way, that's far too stingy!"
The man grinned. "Like I need advice from you bastards? I gave him something!" He turned to ask He Lingchuan, "Were those jars of pickled vegetables stinky or what?"
So he was the one who gave them! He Lingchuan hesitated, momentarily unsure how to respond, before managing: "Stinky... stank to high heaven!"
The fellow beamed instantly. "Of course it stinks! The stinkier, the better the pickles!"
He leaned in closer. "Let me tell you, every time my mother's pickles come out of the crock, people fight to buy them! They're not a bit cheaper than the Chuntai wine in the south of the city!"
Since it had been offered in good faith, He Lingchuan drank another toast with him. "All right. Once I finish them, I'll ask you for more."
The man gave him a thumbs-up and stepped aside for the next person.
After several more well-wishers toasted him, a woman actually strode up, a pair of short thrusting-spikes hanging from her waist. She slammed her wine goblet down before He Lingchuan, turned, and pointed at the pickle fellow: "I'm his fiancée! If you hadn't jumped into that monster den, he might've gone scurrying off to chase some dainty mistress by now. I thank you!"
A'luo was in the middle of a sip and choked on his wine.
He Lingchuan looked at the broad-shouldered, wide-hipped woman, then at her tall, skinny fiancé, and gave a small cough. "May you two share a hundred years of harmony."
The woman said to He Lingchuan, "I'll drink three toasts to you; drink as you please." With that, she poured three cups of wine and tossed them back one after another, downing them easier than water, before continuing, "My younger sister isn't married yet. She's looked at several matches and didn't like any of them—her standards are sky-high. Want me to introduce you?"
Before He Lingchuan could reply, someone nearby called out, "Don't meet her, don't even look! Her sister's a ferocious brute too—once she gets hold of you, you'll never escape!"
The crowd roared with laughter, and the woman sneered, "Old Six Wu, stand up! Let's settle this one-on-one!"
The spotlight was no longer on He Lingchuan. He quietly downed another cup of wine, glanced over, and saw dozens of people still queued up and over a hundred watching. His scalp prickled.
Barely two quarters of an hour later, he was half-slumped over the table.
As he slumped against the table to dodge more drinks, Skinny patted his back and called out to the crowd, "He's down, he's down! No more toasts—come earlier next time!"
He fended them off left and right for quite a while before the enthusiastic patrons finally dispersed.
He Lingchuan rested for a good while and circulated his true power before finally suppressing the drunken haze.
In the battle of the Ghost Needle Stone Forest, everyone had fought back-to-back in desperate straits, and He Lingchuan had even sacrificed himself to blow up the monster lair. That had instantly forged a staunch camaraderie among them; now, spurred by the wine, they called each other brothers, talking and laughing as warmly as lifelong friends.
Liu Tong explained to He Lingchuan, "I reported your conduct to our superiors. They were very impressed, but they felt you haven't been with the patrols long enough and lack sufficient experience, so they won't promote you just yet."
He Lingchuan couldn't help feeling a tinge of disappointment. Being promoted to squad leader gave one a chance to qualify for the Gale Army, yet right now, he hadn't even made fire leader.
But just as Liu Tong said, his own battlefield experience was lacking. How could he command others?
Liu Tong, his face flushed red, thumped his chest and promised him, "Brother He, you have both courage and luck. Just go on a few more missions and stay alive, and you'll definitely get promoted!"
Willow could hold more liquor than most men; she had already downed two small jars. But once drunk, she loved to laugh, unlike her usual self, who looked as if everyone owed her money.
She gave He Lingchuan's shoulder a hard slap. "These men are cowards, every one of them. None dared deliver Sun Jiayuan's pension in person, claiming they couldn't bear to watch a woman weep and wail, so they made me go instead! I mean, I hardly even knew that Sun fellow!"
She slapped him again and lowered her voice. "Once the pension was delivered, his younger sister, Sun Fuling, didn't cry at all. Cool as a cucumber, she was. I even chatted with her for a bit. Turns out Sun Jiayuan owed an endless pile of bad debt out there—the kind they call 'donkey-hide debt,' compounding interest over who knows how many layers. Most recently, he stole Sun Fuling's land deeds and valuables to win it all back, only to lose every copper. He'd once chopped off the pinkies on both his hands, swearing a vicious oath never to gamble again, and then... then he died before he could start chopping off his ring fingers."
No wonder Sun Jiayuan had been so resolute in seeking death. In this world, gambling debts were the one thing you never wanted to owe. "He was posthumously honored as a hero-martyr—does that wipe away his gambling debts?"
"Of course. The creditors may grumble, but Panlong City's laws give a hero-martyr's family one chance to cancel out a crime or debt. Forget unpaid money—even murder charges can be wiped clean. It's called balancing merits against faults."
"That works too?" He Lingchuan popped a peanut into his mouth. At Tianshuang Restaurant, a dish of peanuts went for one wen, whereas here it cost four wen, and he couldn't taste anything special about them. Well, specially expensive. "I thought Panlong City banned gambling."
"Are you joking? Of course Panlong City bans gambling!" Skinny, who had been busy drinking, chimed in. "But gamblers will always find a den, just like a cat can always sniff out raw fish."
He Lingchuan shrugged. Sure enough, light and shadow were inseparable; what was supposed to exist and what wasn't were both present in equal measure here.
Willow moved to slap He Lingchuan's shoulder again, but he dodged. Once this woman had been drinking, she had no sense of her own strength.
Filled with food and wine, everyone headed home. Skinny even packed up the leftovers to take back. In his words, he was answering the authorities' call for thriftiness—food wasn't to be wasted, especially when it was this expensive.
Both He Lingchuan and A'luo lived in wood-grade houses, so they teamed up to hire a donkey cart home.
A'luo was woozy and nearly stumbled when getting off.
He Lingchuan, on the other hand, had recovered and was far clearer-headed. He paid the fare, helped A'luo into his house, and only then walked back to his own place.
Standing before his own door, he sighed.
A door like this was practically a formality; anyone could vault over it with one hand. But since he had traded all his rewards for the storefront, he could only accumulate more merits and strive to upgrade his housing soon.
In truth, military merits weren't easy to earn in Panlong City; this time, he had merely chanced upon a major solo achievement. Typical patrol duties involved facing rampaging monsters—dangerous enough, yet yielding only a tiny trickle of merits and rewards.
Most soldiers could only crawl upward within this system like snails climbing a tree, all while steering clear of any infractions or mistakes. Accumulating military merit was excruciatingly difficult, yet losing it was terrifyingly easy.
Hadn't A'luo made one major blunder and ended up a pauper living in a wood-grade house? Even now, he still hadn't gotten back on his feet.
Just as he was about to push the door open, a voice suddenly called out from nearby:
"Hey!"
Very close, right beside him.
He Lingchuan turned and saw a woman with a seven- or eight-year-old boy standing four feet away.
A cloth veil covered her face, revealing only a pair of almond eyes, slender brows, and skin as white as milk.
"Can I help you?"
As soon as He Lingchuan spoke, the boy gave a violent wrench, trying to bolt, but the woman kept him firmly in check.
At first he had assumed they were mother and son, but looking closer, the boy's shoulder was pinned in her grip. He was skinny as a monkey, but his expression was that of a wolf pup, ready to bare his fangs at anyone.
What was going on here?
The woman spoke again. "Did you lose something?"
"How did you..." Her question had come without context; He Lingchuan took a beat before realizing: "A bundle of firewood and two crucian carp."
"This brat robbed seven households in the neighborhood, including yours. When he came back to your place a second time wanting to steal what was outside your door, a passerby shouted, so I gave chase." The woman yanked the boy forward. "Mm, I'm one of the victims too."
"Where have I seen you before?" He Lingchuan found the boy somewhat familiar. Thinking back carefully—damn it, wasn't this the little thief he had encountered when he first entered the Panlong City dream?
Back then, the brat had been trying to steal his divine bone necklace. He Lingchuan had intended to teach him a lesson, but Hu Min happened to call out to him in the street. In the surprise and flurry of catching up, the petty thief had slipped away.
After all that running around, the brat had still managed to steal his things in the end. "So it was you!"
The boy jerked his head away, refusing to look at him. "I don't know you!"
Chapter 206