Ch. 182 - The Desolate Tavern

Yan Buhui turned his head and swept a calm glance across the crowd.

Then, by chance, he spotted Xu Zimo standing below, and instantly froze.

“If you’re done here, come with me,” Qin Feiming said flatly.

“Go where?” Yan Buhui asked.

“To meet my master. I never go back on my word,” Qin Feiming replied.

“Let’s talk later,” Yan Buhui shook his head and walked down from the arena, heading directly toward Xu Zimo.

“Long time no see,” he said, his gaze locked onto Xu Zimo.

He still remembered the blade at South Goose Mountain, the day he had received the inheritance of a Sword God and believed himself invincible.

But Xu Zimo had defeated him with a single slash, leaving behind words he could never forget:

“Work harder. Otherwise, you’re not even qualified to chase my shadow.”

...

“Drink with me?” Xu Zimo asked with a smile.

Yan Buhui nodded.

As the two walked off, Qin Feiming hurried after them.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll go for the Eternal Sword God’s inheritance when the time feels right,” Yan Buhui said, shaking his head.

“No way,” Qin Feiming protested. “I’ve waited five years here for someone worthy. You have to come with me.”

“Why don’t you inherit it yourself?” Little Gui asked curiously.

“I’m not qualified,” Qin Feiming replied after a pause, then looked up and added calmly.

“Go see it,” Xu Zimo said with a smile, turning to Yan Buhui. “Once you’ve accepted the inheritance, you can go train on your own. Or come find me at the Baili Imperial Clan.”

Yan Buhui nodded, then asked in confusion, “How did you know I was suited for the Eternal Sword God’s inheritance?”

“It’s your sword heart. You already know your path,” Qin Feiming replied concisely.

As the two walked away, Xu Zimo turned to Little Gui with a grin and said, “The real show’s about to begin. Don’t get too nervous.”

Little Gui nodded and asked, “Senior Brother, are they really from the ancient horrors of long ago?”

“Before the Desolate Era, more or less,” Xu Zimo chuckled. “But after the Imperial Era, they gradually faded. Let’s see how much courage they still have.”

...

Bluesky Alley, perhaps the most well-preserved ancient street in all of Primordial Ancient City.

During the Supreme Terror, nearly the entire city had been destroyed, but this narrow alley survived by sheer luck.

Even when the city was rebuilt, not a single brick or tile of this alley was touched.

The deep, quiet alley radiated peace. Compared to the bustling streets of the city, it felt like a separate realm.

A space isolated from both time and place.

Xu Zimo stood at the entrance to Bluesky Alley and slowly closed his eyes. A gentle wind brushed past.

Back when the Primordial Chaos Bead had carried him through the River of Time, he had witnessed every major event since the beginning of this era.

That included the great battle that once ravaged Primordial Ancient City.

Now standing at the alley’s mouth, he could feel the weight of the millions of years of history bearing down on him, like ancient memories sighing in the air.

He felt as though he had returned to that catastrophic war.

With Little Gui in tow, Xu Zimo slowly entered the alley.

As soon as they stepped in, Little Gui produced a folding fan from who-knows-where.

Dressed in a purple robe, fan in hand, hair flowing freely and tied in a topknot, he looked every bit the image of a graceful young noble. Anyone would be compelled to praise: “What a refined gentleman.”

Five hundred meters in, they saw a tavern off to the side.

Four large characters greeted them: "Desolate Tavern."

The tavern’s doors were made of Dragon-Resin Wood, a rare material found only where dragons once dwelled.

Since the Imperial Era, after Sky Shroud War God single-handedly slaughtered the Dragon Race at Nether Dragon Ravine, this type of wood had vanished.

The ancient signboard looked aged and battered, its wood rotting, but the characters were still clear.

Inside, the tavern’s decor was old-fashioned.

It was small, with only six tables. Behind the front counter sat an old man, slumped over in deep sleep.

The place was peaceful, with the faint aroma of wine in the air.

“Brother Xu, who would’ve thought we’d meet again in such an ancient city,” Little Gui said with a smile.

“Brother Zhang, you're too polite,” Xu Zimo replied with a chuckle. “Back in the Grand Myriad Mountains, I was truly impressed by your presence.”

“Don’t be so modest, Brother Xu. Tonight, let’s drink until we drop!” Little Gui laughed.

He strode to the counter and knocked on the table hard.

The old man stirred, lifting his head slightly. His murky eyes glanced at Little Gui before he slumped back down to sleep.

“Hey! You’ve got customers. Aren’t you going to serve us?” Little Gui frowned.

The old man lifted his head again, and in that instant, his gaze seemed to pierce through the void and land directly on Little Gui.

Little Gui instantly felt suffocated, like he’d just been targeted by something terrifying.

“The wine’s on that shelf over there,” the old man said lazily. “Take whatever you want, just don’t disturb this old man’s sleep.”

Little Gui turned to look and saw a black wooden cabinet built into the wall.

It was filled with jars of wine, each labeled with red slips describing its name and origin.

He walked up with great interest and began examining them.

Thousand-Year Red Wine

Source Spring Spirit Wine

...

Little Gui stared at the wine descriptions, stunned.

Any one of these jars could cause an uproar if released to the public.

Yet here they were, boldly displayed on a shelf like they were nothing special.

He composed himself, cleared his throat, and said loudly:

“Shopkeeper, your wine selection’s not all that. It’s either too sweet or too bitter. Don’t you have anything stronger? Give me the best you’ve got.”

Hearing that, the old man cracked open an eye and muttered:

“The best wine? I’m afraid you can’t afford it.”

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