Nineteen

Chapter 19: The Beggar Sect Leader

Cheng Zhiyuan and Duan Mingyu clinked their glasses repeatedly, engaging in a drinking bout of epic proportions. They drank until the world seemed to spin, blurring the line between day and night.

As dusk approached, the two stumbled out of the back hall, drunk as lords. Cheng Zhiyuan habitually cupped his hands in a salute: "Brother, take care on your way. I have pressing official business, so I cannot see you off."

*You’re this drunk and still pretending to be busy?* "Brother, stay put! I’ll be off!" Duan Mingyu shouted back.

Just as he reached the yamen entrance, the bailiff who had failed to squeeze five taels of silver out of Duan Mingyu came trotting up, all smiles. "Master Top Scholar, did you have a good chat with the Prefect?"

Duan Mingyu chuckled. "Naturally. It was all thanks to my brother's introduction." He then cast a meaningful glance at the bailiff.

The bailiff felt a chill run down his spine. He hurriedly fished out a silver ingot and offered it obsequiously. "Master Duan, please forgive me. I was blind and didn't recognize your greatness. I shouldn't have taken your silver. I hope you can be lenient; if not, I’ll lose my livelihood! I have an eighty-year-old mother at home and a three-year-old child still nursing..." (Fifty thousand words omitted here).

Duan Mingyu was speechless. *An eighty-year-old mother? You look about twenty, so your mother gave birth to you at sixty? I must say, your father was impressive—truly, incredibly impressive. And a three-year-old child still nursing? That excuse is so pathetic it couldn't fool a pig, let alone someone like me, the 'Exquisite Calculator and Clever Scholar' Top Scholar.*

Duan Mingyu decided to play the fool to catch the tiger, nimbly accepting the silver. "I didn't see or hear anything today."

"I understand! Thank you for your magnanimity, Master Top Scholar. I will keep it in mind," the bailiff promised, bowing repeatedly.

"Forget it. Let's put this matter behind us. In the future, work hard and don't disappoint the expectations of the nation and the people," Duan Mingyu said shamelessly.

The bailiff, with a mournful face, swore solemnly, "I will take your teachings to heart, sir. I shall be loyal to the Great Tang until death—no, even after death!"

Duan Mingyu replied, "Excellent. Your 'dying for the cause' shows great promise."

The bailiff blinked, still trying to process this, when he realized Duan Mingyu had already strutted away and vanished from sight. A long while later, the bailiff sighed, "I lost out. I lost out big time!"

Duan Mingyu felt elated on his way back. Not only had he not lost any silver, but he had actually made a profit. More importantly, once his shop opened, having the Prefect show his face would make anyone think twice before messing with him. *Haha, I can finally settle down and count my money in peace!*

Duan Mingyu smirked with satisfaction, causing passersby to shake their heads. *What a fine-looking young man, yet he’s clearly a lunatic.*

As he walked, the alcohol hit him. Dizzy and unsteady, he hummed that popular song from his previous life, "Drunken Fist."

"I sway and I stumble, like the rolling waves...
I laugh off a thousand grievances...
I bow and I stand, swaying but never falling...
I know the secrets within the wine...
I don't need a blade to make a name in the martial world...
I carry the heavy burden on one shoulder...
Neither crying injustice nor begging for mercy...
I yield for the sake of friendship...
An immortal in my cups...
A true hero...
Don't call me mad...
The mad keep kindness in their hearts...
Don't laugh at my obsession...
For a sincere heart is hard to find...
Don't fear the drunkenness...
Once drunk, the sea is wide and the sky is high...
Be mad, be obsessed, be drunk while we are still young..."

"Who is this? Why are you drunk at my doorstep? Hey, wake up!" Xu Zuye kicked the drunkard. It was a vicious kick, leaving a clear imprint of his boot on the man’s face.

Only then did Xu Zuye recognize him. "Master Duan!" he exclaimed in shock.

At dawn, as the sky turned a pale gray, Yang Zhaoniang snuck in through the gap in the door.

Duan Mingyu was still snoring away. Yang Zhaoniang wrinkled her delicate brows and muttered, "Sleeping like a pig!"

As she got closer, she smelled the overwhelming stench of alcohol. She pinched her nose and acted like a wizened old soul. "Sigh, why are all men the same?"

"He went out to fool around all day and didn't play with me!" she complained.

Then, her dark eyes rolled around, and she tiptoed to Duan Mingyu's side, pinching his nose shut.

Duan Mingyu, full of wine, felt a parched heat in his mouth and suddenly felt his chest tighten, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. He snapped his eyes open, gasping for air. His face, usually fair, turned purple in an instant.

Yang Zhaoniang was startled by his sudden wakefulness and let go. Duan Mingyu took a few sharp breaths and was just about to lecture the little girl when his bladder staged a revolution. He scrambled up and dashed toward the latrine.

Seeing him in such a rush, Yang Zhaoniang realized what he was doing and turned bright red.

In the living room, Xu Zuye looked astonished. "What? You mean you got the Prefect to show his support without spending a single copper? You ate and drank for free, and he even gave you silver?"

Yang Yanguang remained calm, acting as if none of this had anything to do with him. *Hmph,* he thought, *my identity is sensitive. If I'm not careful, this brat will trick me into revealing major secrets. Better to stay silent and know nothing. Besides, he almost caused me to suffer a qi deviation; I haven't settled that score with him yet.*

Duan Mingyu boasted, "Who do you think I am? When the Top Scholar acts, even the King of Hell runs away. That's no exaggeration. Though I consider myself brilliant and heroic, I am truly humbled compared to Sister Zhaoniang."

Yang Yanguang couldn't help but ask, "Why?"

Duan Mingyu pointed outside with a look of mock humility.

Xu Zuye and Yang Yanguang looked out. Heavens! Over a hundred little brats were standing in the courtyard. Yang Zhaoniang stood at the front, wearing a small, cool cape with the words "Sect Leader" scrawled crookedly on the back.

Li Shizu, the son of the local butcher, stepped forward. "Reporting to Sect Leader Yang! The 108 Generals have arrived!" He puffed out his chest, waiting for her orders.

Yang Zhaoniang nodded proudly. "Excellent! From today on, our targets are Fatty Zhang from the west side and Bad Wang from the north side. Beat them as soon as possible; don't disgrace our Beggar Sect. If you can't beat them..."

"Understood, Sect Leader! If we can't beat them, we won't play marbles with you anymore," Li Shizu replied seriously.

"Good, good. Dismissed!" Yang Zhaoniang waved her hand, and the 108 Generals marched off.