The Rose Hotel's lobby quieted as Lucien staggered forward, wine jar swaying in his grip.
Dai Mubai turned away from the four women at his side, annoyance flashing across his face. Another drunk barging in? He was about to curse aloud—until someone murmured the name Lucien.
He froze.
These past few days, that name had spread everywhere. Though Mubai hadn't seen the battle himself, the stories were enough to make his blood pump. A Soul Sect, twelve years old, with three purples and one black—and who had humiliated Davis and Zhu Zhuyun in front of hundreds of thousands.
And sure enough, before him stood the legend himself: sword on back, jar in hand. The famous drunkard genius.
The insult died in his throat.
Lucien weaved closer, slightly unfocused, before squinting. "…Dai… Mubai?"
Mubai forced a smile. "Brother Lucien, yes—that's me. Dai Mubai."
Lucien lifted the jar, drank deeply, then chuckled. "Heh. I remember now. You're that bastard."
The words landed like a slap. Mubai's face slackened. He… knows me? And his first words are that?
"Brother Lucien, don't listen to gossip. Whatever Davis said—don't believe it—"
"You are a bastard."
The voice wasn't Lucien's. It was cold, biting.
Mubai's head whipped around. Zhu Zhuqing had stepped forward, her dark eyes more frigid than ice.
"Zhuqing—?!" Mubai panicked, his soul leaving his body. He'd been caught red-handed, surrounded by four women, his supposed fiancée glaring daggers. "Listen to me—I was just… playing cards! Fighting the landlord, that's all!"
Even he didn't believe his pathetic lie.
Zhu Zhuqing's lip curled.
Lucien yawned, uninterested. He tugged Zhuqing toward him with an arm. "Kitten, come. Let's drink."
Mubai's pupils shrank. The way Lucien called her Kitten—and the way Zhuqing didn't pull away. His face flushed hot, then cold.
"Stop!" His voice cracked, eyes reddening as he stood, glaring straight at Lucien. "Lucien, you owe me an explanation today!"
Whispers erupted throughout the lobby.
"Is this guy suicidal?"
"Who dares provoke that monster?"
"Does he think he's a Title Douluo?"
"…He's dead."
Even the Emperor Team looked horrified. After all, they knew better than anyone: no one messed with Lucien.
Lucien blinked. "Explanation? For what, bastard?"
The drunken squint he gave made Mubai's heart plummet.
He wanted to back down—but Zhu Zhuqing's presence burned his pride like acid. If he didn't fight, he was worse than trash.
"Zhuqing is my fiancée!" he roared. "She can't go with you!"
Zhu Zhuqing's gaze was icy steel. "Not anymore. Not since the moment you abandoned me and fled to Heaven Dou on your own."
Her words ringed like knives. She had braved hell to find him—only to see him wallowing with prostitutes, shameless. To call it "playing landlord"? Unforgivable.
Lucien tilted his head back, jar to lips. Then, drunkenly, he muttered words no one in this world understood:
"Wine and song… what's life worth?"
The Emperor Team didn't even flinch. By now, they were used to his strange, foreign drunken phrases.
But to Dai Mubai, it was a mockery.
"Bastard!" With a roar, fury overcame fear. His Martial Soul exploded. "White Tiger—possess!"
His body expanded, muscles bulging, tiger claws flashing. White Tiger Barrier and White Tiger Vajra erupted together as he leapt— "White Tiger Lightwave!"
A surge of blinding energy blasted toward Lucien.
"Oi!" Lucien growled, cradling his jar carefully. "You dare aim at my wine?!"
Wine was his treasure, his lifeline—as sacred as the women at his side. Qin Ming didn't dare forbid it. And certainly no one dared damage it.
With a lazy swipe, Lucien cut through the white light as though swatting a fly. In the next instant, he lifted Mubai high into the air like a ragdoll—and slammed him into the tiles.
The breath left Mubai's body in a pitiful grunt. His insides twisted, organs bruised. A brutal kick followed, sending him flying out the hotel doors like discarded trash.
If not for his dual defensive spirit skills buffering the blow, half his life would be gone.
Yu Tianheng peered out the doorway at Mubai's crumpled form, then shivered. "…Captain, what do we do?"
"Buy him wine," came the hushed reply. "You want to live? Buy a jar of wine."
The realization struck them all. Wine kept them safe. Wine was the only shield.
"Teacher Qin," one muttered, "…should we get him one too?"
Qin Ming's face twitched. "…Yes. Bring me one as well."
…
"Gulp… gulp…"
Lucien slung an arm around Zhu Zhuqing again. "Kitten, let's drink!"
…
Later that night, when Zhu Zhuqing finally calmed, she made her decision. She couldn't return to Xingluo. It was impossible. But as for Heaven Dou City with Lucien… her path wasn't ready. Not yet.
Lucien tipped his jar, words slurred warmly. "Don't be sad, kitten. Scum isn't worth your tears. Me? I'm different. I admit anything! Look, I've got Yanyan, I've got Lingling—no hiding it."
He dragged the two women into his embrace proudly, laughing. "You follow me, you can be third wife. Best to decide soon—before life passes you by!"
Yu Tianheng quietly cursed with gritted teeth: Different? You're exactly like a Cao thief!
But none dared say it aloud. Not with him drunk.
Zhu Zhuqing took the heavy jar from his hand, lifted it.
"Gulp… gulp…"
Then she leaned close, so softly no one else heard, and hugged him lightly.
"Lucien… drinking with you isn't bad. It's… fun."
Her whisper lingered. And then she slipped from his arms, fleeing.
"Goodbye."
Lucien blinked after her, swaying. "…Not drinking anymore? Why?"
He puzzled for three seconds, frowned—and then scolded himself harshly. "Idiot. You'll never figure out a woman's mind."
He drank again, dismissing the thought.