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墨書 Inktalez
After Gu Ping and Liu Lao Jiu left the Azure Wind Escort Agency, they headed straight back to the inn. Gu Ping had already relayed everything that needed to be said to Chen Zongbiao, but what would happen next remained uncertain. Dongyi Station was supposed to head towards Pingcheng, and then they would reach Jincheng, which was the Imperial Capital of Great Jin. There, Gu Ping could once again find the Abyssal Guards and learn about the details of that previous escort mission.
Moreover, he planned to leak information about that escort mission. By then, the intentions of those factions should become clear. If they were indeed after the classic itself, they would undoubtedly spare no expense to seize it.
If they were merely after the light, then as long as the light did not appear, no one would move against him. In that case, Gu Ping would need to cooperate with those factions to lure out the light, and once he handed over the classic, his life would be secured.
If it turned out that the book came from an external source, then Chen Zongbiao and Coco might not survive this ordeal. If Buqi's box was locked away, then Chen Zongbiao would likely be considered someone who had seen its contents. This could even lead to collateral damage; when those people discovered that the classic was a fake, Gu Ping's situation would become even more perilous. Perhaps he would face a storm of searches akin to a tempest.
He knew that these matters were quite troublesome, but regardless of how things unfolded, he had to give it a try. He now had leverage; what he lacked was the ability to protect his own interests. As long as Gu Ping could safeguard his leverage, he would have bargaining power with the light. At the very least, he could ensure his safety until the light appeared.
The more chaotic things became, the more opportunities Gu Ping would have to navigate through the turmoil and find a sliver of survival in what seemed like an impossible situation.
In the courtyard of the inn, two people were drinking at a stone table under the moonlight. It was a scene reminiscent of flowers before the moon—an image of solitary enjoyment. Liu Lao Jiu lay sprawled on the round stone table like a drunken fool, mumbling about how one should enjoy life while it lasts and not let the Golden Goblet remain empty under the moonlight. Cen Fuzi urged him to drink without pause.
"You wouldn't guess it; I can recite poetry quite well," Gu Ping remarked as he looked at Liu Lao Jiu. Suddenly inspired, he raised his wine flask and took a hearty swig before breaking into song: "The moon that troubles my heart cannot linger; for my heart's sake, let not this moon bring more worries."
"Kid, Mo Qiu looks down on Jianghu heroes," Liu Lao Jiu hiccupped and continued, "Who can't recite a few lines? Poetry is poetry!"
Gu Ping shook his head and took another drink. "Drink in the morning; get drunk at night; oh how sorrowful this moon is."
"What’s there to be sorrowful about? It's just a dog’s life," Liu Lao Jiu grumbled while pouring himself another drink. It was no longer appropriate to describe Liu Lao Jiu as merely drinking; it was more fitting to say he was drowning himself in liquor.
Gu Ping gazed at the peach tree planted in the courtyard. This season should not have been one for peach blossoms to bloom so profusely. Why were they flourishing so abundantly? And those blossoms had hardly any leaves; even if they did bloom, there should be at least a few fallen leaves. The peach blossoms looked utterly fake from any angle.
Gu Ping snatched the wine cup from Liu Lao Jiu, and someone arrived.
Oh, he then took back the Wine Flask and continued drinking. What was there to fear? It was said that if it came down to it, he could just give up his worthless life.
He wanted to die, but he was very eager to live. Gu Ping coldly remarked that before setting out, he had thought the same way—if it came to it, he could just give away his worthless life. However, after experiencing the Willow Tree Demon, encountering the Ancient Words, meeting Liu Donghui, learning about the dog, and seeing Pei Xiaoxiao's fate, he no longer thought that way.
Gu Ping felt a thing called hatred growing in his heart. He hated his own powerlessness, hated how those people harmed the innocent, hated how those cultivators disregarded human life. He hated it all; he didn’t want to die—at least not without value. He wanted to live; at the very least, if he died, he wanted to tear a piece out of those people, to grab a chunk of flesh from them and make them understand that even if he were just an ordinary person, he wouldn’t be someone who could be casually slaughtered.
Liu Lao Jiu stopped drinking and stood up from the stone table.
Accompanied by Liu Lao Jiu's exclamation, a long knife shot directly from his waist toward the Peach Tree. Gu Ping clearly saw that the Peach Tree twisted slightly before transforming into a human form, narrowly dodging the blade.
Following the trajectory of the long knife, Liu Lao Jiu seized the handle as it sliced through empty air and aimed to strike at the person before him. However, what the person said startled Liu Lao Jiu and caused him to hesitate for a moment.
"Cultivator at the Ninth Level, Uncle," he said with interest.
Gu Ping watched as the person dodged Liu Lao Jiu’s seemingly certain strike and finally revealed himself. His angular face was devoid of hair like those from Liu Xia or Great Jin; instead, his cleanly cropped hair made him appear like a sword drawn from its sheath. Even his gaze was sharp as a blade, piercing straight to the heart.
The man dodged Liu Lao Jiu's knife once more, showcasing Liu Lao Jiu's strength and causing him to be taken aback. After failing to land a blow, Liu Lao Jiu retreated back to Gu Ping's side.
He knew my name was Gu Ping. He was well aware that behind me there was a large group of cultivators following closely, wanting to seize my belongings or even my life. He understood that I was just an ordinary person—ordinary to an extreme degree. What did I think?
Gu Ping was somewhat surprised; this person knew quite a bit. But aside from Liu Lao Jiu, who else would know so much? Chen Zongbiao—though Gu Ping thought of him as honest and straightforward—understood that knowing people’s faces didn’t mean knowing their hearts.
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