Jun Wu Yi laughed again, more heartily this time. "What a twisted way of looking at life, but... perhaps not entirely wrong."
"Not just not wrong... completely right," Jun Mo Xie corrected with a grin. "That's why warriors drink. Not because they like wine, but because they can't sleep without it."
"Alright, alright, you win, you little devil." Jun Wu Yi rubbed his temple. "You always have a way of making me feel like I'm the child here."
Jun Mo Xie beamed. "That's because you are, Uncle! At least mentally. And by the way, don't you think it's about time I got myself an aunt? Hm? It's not fair that you're still single while walking around looking like a celestial scholar fresh out of a painting scroll!"
Jun Wu Yi nearly choked on his own breath. "You—! You impudent rascal!"
"Oh come on!" Jun Mo Xie circled him with a thoughtful gaze. "Mid-thirties, handsome, elegant, mysterious aura of a war-scarred hero. You'd have maidens lining up from the capital to the countryside if you just smiled a little more. But nooo, you insist on acting like some widowed recluse."
"You really have no shame," Jun Wu Yi said, half exasperated, half amused.
Jun Mo Xie dramatically threw up his arms. "Fine, fine. But don't blame me when I start arranging blind dates for you! I'll have Granny Li pick them out — I hear she's got a granddaughter who's quite the looker."
"I'll throw you off the estate myself if you do that," Jun Wu Yi muttered.
Jun Mo Xie snickered. "And yet you call yourself old... Uncle, I'm only sixteen, and by your logic, when I become an uncle to someone my age, I too must start calling myself ancient?"
Jun Wu Yi answered with a straight face, "Of course."
Jun Mo Xie threw his hands in the air. "This world is doomed! Someone, anyone — please enlighten me: how does being related to a teenager age you into decrepitude?!"
"Ask the heavens," Jun Wu Yi quipped, brushing his sleeves as he turned to leave.
But then, he paused.
"You've nothing important today, right?" Jun Wu Yi smiled gently: "Remember to come back early in the evening today, we have guests and we need to entertain them by hosting a feast tonight."
"Uncle, why are they here?" Jun Mo Xie took the opportunity to ask his question.
"Given the current situation, they are here to fetch your sister-in-law, which they have already conveyed."
Jun Wu Yi brandished a faint smile. "But you brat, what are you really planning to do...?"
"You will see, Uncle." Jun Mo Xie smiled meaningfully.
------
As the sun began its slow descent, casting long golden streaks across the cobblestone streets of Tianxiang City, the unmistakable clatter of a red palanquin rang out. It rocked from side to side in exaggerated defiance, as though resenting every inch of movement it was being forced to make.
Inside, Jun Mo Xie lounged lazily, one leg draped over the other, his arms behind his head, looking every bit the pampered scoundrel with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Why must I always ride this ridiculous thing?" He muttered, squinting at the swaying silk curtains. "It creaks like an old eunuch with gout and lurches like a drunk trying to court a wall."
At last, the palanquin wobbled to a halt in front of Old Song's Wine Shop, a humble wooden tavern whose fragrance of freshly aged wine had lured many a master cultivator to its doors.
Inside, Old Song was pacing like an anxious bridegroom. He had personally brewed today's special batch using techniques imparted by Jun Mo Xie himself. Ever since losing the wine competition half a year ago, he had referred to Jun Mo Xie as Master—and meant it with all his wrinkled heart.
The tavern, though cozy, was bustling today—not with common drinkers, but with the kind of company that could shake empires.
At one table sat Solitary Falcon, his steely gaze half-lidded in contentment, fingers tapping an idle rhythm against the table.
Beside him lounged Feng Juanyun, the Divine Storm Sword, a man as elegant as his title, swirling his wine with grace befitting a poetry scholar.
Both had once stood tall among the Eight Great Masters, but since losing to Jun Mo Xie, they'd followed him.
With Mo Xie's guidance and resources, both had astonishingly stepped into the Saint Emperor Realm, a feat almost like a dream to them previously.'
At another table sat Yang Huainong, the only brother of the Tianxiang Emperor. His expression was gentle as he fussed over his ten-year-old son, Yang Mo.
Yang Mo had cheeks like peaches, lips like red jade, and big eyes. If one didn't look twice, they might assume the little lad was a girl. He wore a silk tunic of pastel blue with his hair tied up in a bun, and he currently hid behind his father's sleeve, peeking out timidly.
The tavern doors burst open.
"Old Song! Bring out the good stuff, or I'll have you making vinegar for the rest of your days!" Mo Xie called out, stepping in like he owned the place.
A rush of warmth met him: the scent of wine, the laughter of old comrades.
Solitary Falcon rose and clasped his fists. "Young Master Jun."
"Bah, sit down, Old Bird," Mo Xie waved him off, grinning. "We are all customers here... craving some fine wine."
Feng Juanyun chuckled, rising as well. "We wouldn't dare."
Mo Xie smiled and shook his head. "Anyway, how's your wine-tasting cultivation coming along?"
Solitary Falcon groaned, "I drank that thing you called 'Eternal Night' and saw my ancestors in my dreams."
Jun Mo Xie smacked the table. "Success, then!"
Old Song hobbled out from the back with a tray of elegant jade decanters. His face split into a toothy grin. "Master, your disciple has succeeded!"
"Bring it here, old man," Mo Xie ordered playfully. "Let's see if your wine sings or screams."
As the first cups were poured, Jun Mo Xie turned to the young boy peeking from behind his father.
"Ah, if it isn't Little Sister Mo!" Mo Xie clapped in mock surprise. "Why, you look more like a flower than my neighbor's daughter."
Yang Mo's cheeks went scarlet. "I'm a boy!"
Jun Mo Xie gasped dramatically. "A boy?! But you're too pretty! Heaven is unfair, giving you a girl's face and no sense of humor!"
The boy looked like he wanted to crawl under the table.
Yang Huainong sighed, "Young Master Jun, must you always tease him?"
"He needs to toughen up," Jun Mo Xie said with mock severity. "Soft children become the first victims of sharp tongues. Better mine than a stranger's."
Turning serious for a heartbeat, he looked at Yang Mo and gently ruffled his hair. "Little Mo, don't let others make you feel lesser. True strength comes from the heart, not the face."
Yang Mo nodded, still blushing, but his eyes gleamed.
Old Song, meanwhile, finished pouring and handed the first glass to Mo Xie with trembling hands. "Please, Master... tell me your thoughts."
Mo Xie sniffed the wine, swirled it once, then sipped.
--- ✦ ✦ ✦ ---
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