The night grew deeper, and the courtyard of the City Lord Mansion was bathed in hazy moonlight.
Yuan Ming dismissed his subordinates, sat alone on a stone bench, and gazed at the bright full moon.
A gentle breeze swept by, and the figure of Swordsman Qing Ping suddenly appeared in the courtyard.
He wore a fluttering blue robe, silhouetted against the moonlight, appearing mysterious and profound.
He walked to the opposite of Yuan Ming, and the two sat facing each other.
Yuan Ming nodded slightly, as if he had expected Swordsman Qing Ping's arrival.
With a gentle flick of his sleeve, two exquisite wine cups appeared on the table, shimmering with a faint light, seemingly containing some kind of mystical power.
"I've long heard that Fellow Daoist Qing Ping's Ming Ding Wine Gourd holds the finest wines under the heavens. I wonder if I could have the fortune to taste some tonight." Yuan Ming's voice floated leisurely.
