The Husky and His White Cat Shizun

Chapter 85: How Can This Venerable One Be Bought Off with Just Fifteen Thousand?

The proprietress's voice sounded out, trying to sound amiable. "Oh, Sir Daoist is so generous! Five thousand gold at once! You really make this old lady happy. But our little shop needs to maintain harmony in order to do business. How could we chase away other guests? Sir, how about this? The largest room, the Mist Pavilion Suite, is reserved specifically for esteemed guests like you. Let me show you—"

Before she could finish her sentence, the sounds of benches and tables being smashed echoed below.

"What's there to see? I don't care if it's the Mist Pavilion or the Turtle Pavilion—what a disgraceful name! No, no, I'll give you one thousand gold, just get rid of them!"

"Don't make things difficult for this old lady, Sir Daoist. You clearly have a good head on your shoulders," the proprietress said without any hesitation, lying through her teeth as she giggled sweetly. "All guests are equal. If you're not satisfied with the Mist Pavilion, I can switch you to another room. It's smaller but elegant and charming. I'll even throw in a free performance of pipa music and dance. How does that sound?"

"Not good! Not good! Fifteen thousand! Make them leave!" the gruff voice roared. "Stop stalling! My lord will be furious when he arrives!"

"Wow—" To others, fifteen thousand might seem excessive, but to Mo Ran, who had once been the ruler of the mortal realm, it was laughable. He had casually given Song Qiutong priceless treasures in his past life. Thus, he held his chopsticks between his teeth, his eyes rolling around as he chuckled quietly to Chu Wanning. "Shifu, Shifu, listen to this person. They want to chase us away with just fifteen thousand."

Chu Wanning glanced at him, then pulled aside the bamboo curtains of their private room and looked downstairs.

The dining hall was packed with a large group of people. Although they were dressed in ordinary clothes and it was impossible to tell which sect they belonged to, each of them had a sharp, high-quality saber hanging at their waist, and they each led a salivating demonic wolf on a leash. The value of the sabers might be hard to determine, but these demonic wolves were priceless; even small cultivation sects would find it difficult to obtain one, yet every single one of these people had one. Clearly, they came from an extremely prominent background.

The guests who had been eating were now staring at these people in alarm, and the hall fell silent.

Suddenly, a snowy-white light darted into the inn, and upon seeing it, everyone was first stunned before they scrambled backward in a commotion. Some timid ones even shrieked, "A great demon! A great demon!"

It was a towering, snow-white wolf demon, standing as tall as three men, with blood-red eyes and sleek fur that shimmered like silk. Its gleaming fangs were as long as an adult man's arm.

Strangely enough, on this formidable beast sat a handsome young man with an arrogant expression, lounging casually with one leg crossed over the other. Dressed in a sharp hunting armor, he wore a bright red robe underneath, with meticulous golden embroidery at the cuffs. His head bore a helmet, adorned with a soft crimson plume cascading from the silver lion crown. Resting on his knee was a jade bow, undoubtedly his weapon.

Upon seeing him, the showy cultivators immediately knelt on one knee, their fists pressed to their chests, and chorused, "Greetings, Young Master!"

"Enough," the young man said impatiently, waving them off. "You dawdle when I need something done, yet you still greet me? Greet your dog's head!"

"Ha," Mo Ran chuckled softly, whispering to Chu Wanning, "He says they can greet their dog's head. Doesn't that make him the dog's head?"

"..."

Sitting on the soft neck of the wolf demon, the young man had a petulant look. "Where is the manager of this shabby inn? Who is it?"

Despite her fear, the proprietress managed to compose herself and stepped forward, forcing a smile. "It's an honor to have you, Esteemed Immortal. This humble shop's manager is none other than myself."

"Oh," the young man glanced at her. "This young master wishes to stay here, but I'm not accustomed to crowds. Tell them that I'll compensate for any losses."

"But Immortal Lord..."

"I understand your predicament. Here, take this and apologize to the other guests on my behalf. If they still refuse, then forget it." The young man tossed a silk pouch to the proprietress, who found a pile of shimmering Nine-Turn Return-to-Source Pills inside. These pills could significantly boost cultivation within a month, with each pill fetching over two thousand gold coins in the market. The proprietress first paled at the extravagance, before secretly sighing in relief.

No cultivator would turn down such a valuable gift; it was an acceptable way to ask for their departure.

The proprietress went around apologizing and presenting the gifts. The young man yawned and disdainfully looked down at his lackeys, saying, "All useless. I had to come here myself."

The lackeys exchanged glances and hurriedly said, "You're so wise, Sir. You're so mighty, Sir."

The crowd dispersed quickly. Everyone except Chu Wanning and Mo Ran, who cared little for wealth or medicinal pills, accepted the gifts without complaint and left the inn to find other accommodations.

The proprietress said, "Sir, everyone has gone. But two guests mentioned that it's already late at night, and one of them is unwell. They don't wish to look for another place. What do you think...?"

"Never mind, never mind. I won't argue with a sickly person." The young man waved dismissively. "Just don't disturb me."

Sickly person Chu Wanning: "..............."

The proprietress immediately beamed with delight and warmly asked, "Sir, you truly are a kind soul. It's late. Would you like to rest or have something to eat first?"

The youth said, "I'm hungry. I don't want to rest; I want to eat."

"The young master wants to dine? Our humble shop will certainly present the finest dishes. Our chef is most skilled in preparing Crab Paste Lion's Head and Crystal Stewed Pork..."

"Vengeful Lion's Head?" Clearly, the youth was not from the south and did not favor southern cuisine. He paused at the dish's name, then frowned and waved his hand dismissively. "No, I don't understand. What kind of nonsense is this?"

He had initially been taken for a noble scion, but now he seemed more like an upstart merchant.

The proprietress: "...Then, what would the young master like to have? Whatever our shop can prepare, we will."

"Young master," the youth gestured to his entourage, "give each of them five pounds of beef. And bring me ten pounds separately, along with a liter of spirits and two lamb legs. That should be enough. It's too late for a heavy meal, just something to stave off hunger."

Mo Ran: "Wow..."

Turning back to mock the youth's bottomless appetite with his Master, Mo Ran found Chu Wanning staring intently at the young man, his eyes shrouded in a faint, enigmatic mist.

Mo Ran asked instinctively, "Does Master know him?"

"Mm."

He had only asked casually, not expecting that Chu Wanning would actually know the person. He was startled and exclaimed, "What? So he's...?"

"A Confucian Wind Sect's sole heir," Chu Wanning whispered softly. "Nan Gongsi."

"..." Mo Ran thought to himself, no wonder Chu Wanning knew him. After all, Chu Wanning had been an honored guest of the Lin Yi Confucian Wind Sect previously. As the sect leader's son, he must have seen him. It was also no wonder that Mo Ran didn't recognize him. In his previous life, when he had slaughtered his way through the Confucian Wind Sect, Nan Gongsi had already succumbed to illness.

Back then, he had assumed that the sect leader's son was a sickly cripple. Little did he expect that this young man before him now was a lively, healthy, and arrogant youth.

...How did he die from illness? Suddenly struck by a severe disease?

Nan Gongsi enjoyed his meal downstairs, swiftly devouring two lamb legs and ten pounds of beef like a whirlwind. He also drank several bowls of wine, causing Mo Ran upstairs to repeatedly click his tongue in disapproval.

"Martial Master, isn't the Confucian Wind Sect supposed to be all about refinement? What's up with their young master? He seems even more unpredictable than our Xue Mengmeng."

Chu Wanning pushed back his head, still averting his face as he observed the scene below. "Don't give your fellow disciples ridiculous nicknames."

Chuckling twice, Mo Ran was just about to say something when Chu Wanning's finger tapped his head, and his sleeves, flowing like smoke, brushed against Mo Ran's face. The fabric was light, neither silk nor satin, but with a cool, watery touch. Mo Ran was momentarily lost in thought.

Back in the room earlier, he had been in a state of desire, trying to pull off Chu Wanning's clothes but failing. He had thought that Chu Wanning dressed conservatively.

But upon closer inspection of the fabric, Mo Ran suddenly realized that it was "Ice Mist Silk," produced by the Treading Snow Palace in Kunlun.

The Treading Snow Palace was one of the most aloof and secluded sects among the upper cultivation world's immortal families. Their disciples would enter at the age of five and be required to enter seclusion in the holy grounds of Kunlun one year later. They wouldn't leave until they had formed their own spirit nuclei. Although spirit nuclei were innate, cultivation was necessary to summon them. This process took an incredibly long time, usually ten to fifteen years, during which no outsiders could enter. Thus, food and clothing became a problem. The food wasn't too difficult since the holy grounds of Kunlun bordered on Empress Lake, allowing Treading Snow Palace disciples to fish for their meals daily. But they couldn't weave their own clothes, could they?

That was where "Ice Mist Silk" came into play.

Clothing made from this silk was as light as smoke and carried a dust-repelling incantation. It would not collect dust unless stained with blood or similar substances, eliminating the need for washing.

Most ingeniously, Ice Mist Silk could change shape according to its owner's physique. This was crucial for Treading Snow Palace disciples who entered the forbidden area at five and might not leave until they were fifteen or twenty. During these long years, as they grew from children to young adults, the Ice Mist Silk clothing would grow with them, avoiding the embarrassment of ill-fitting garments.

But why would Chu Wanning wear clothes made of such material?

Mo Ran narrowed his eyes as a spark ignited in his mind. He suddenly felt that something was off, as if he had misjudged something from the beginning. What was it...?

"Excuse me, where is the shopkeeper?"

A firm yet amiable young voice interrupted Mo Ran's thoughts, filled with energy.

Looking down, he saw the Confucian Wind Sect disciples who had appeared at the Xuanyuan Pavilion earlier in the day. The leader, with his crane emblem fluttering, held a sword with its hilt poking through the curtain, half his body entering the room.

"Isn't that Ye Wangxi's follower?" Mo Ran instantly perked up.

The Confucian Wind Sect had seventy-two cities, and disciples usually didn't recognize each other. As for Nan Gongsi, he was sitting alone in a private room with his back to the door, so the group of young men failed to identify any familiar faces among the other disciples in the tavern.

It would be quite a spectacle if Ye Wangxi were to encounter Nan Gongsi.

"I'm so sorry, but our establishment has been reserved for tonight," the proprietress rushed over, inwardly scolding herself for forgetting to lock the door. "Why don't you try another place, esteemed immortals? I apologize, truly, I do."

The leader of the group looked troubled. "Oh, how unfortunate. I've just been to other inns, and they're all packed. We have a frail maiden with us who hasn't rested in a while. We were hoping to find a decent place for her to sleep. Hostess, could you inquire with the person who reserved the entire tavern? Perhaps they could spare a few rooms?"

"It...I doubt they'd be willing."

The young man bowed politely, earnestly requesting, "If the proprietress could just ask, if he declines, then we'll take our leave."

Before the proprietress could respond, one of Nan Gongsi's attendants by the door slammed his palm on the table and stood up angrily. "What are you asking for?! Out! Out! Don't disturb my lord's meal!"

"That's right! Wearing the robes of the Confucian Wind Sect, and yet shamelessly bringing a girl to sleep with you! Don't you care about disgracing your sect?!"

The young man hadn't expected such a misunderstanding and his face flushed red. He retorted indignantly, "Why are you slandering me, fellow daoist? The Confucian Wind Sect is upright and honorable, and we would never engage in such indecent acts. This maiden was kindly rescued by my lord; how dare you speak such nonsense?"

"Your young master?" One of Nan Gongsi's attendants glanced into the private room and saw their young master still casually sipping his liquor, seemingly approving of their ejection of the intruder. The attendant relaxed and sneered aloud, "Everyone knows there's only one young master in the Confucian Wind Sect. Who might your young master be?"

"A humble servant of the Confucian Wind Sect, Ye Wangxi," a gentle voice sounded from beyond the door.

The group of youths turned around. "Young Master Ye—"

Dressed in black, Ye Wangxi appeared even more handsome under the candlelight, his features taking on an extra touch of elegance. He entered the tavern with his hands behind his back, followed by a veiled woman with anxious, gentle eyes—none other than Song Qiutong.

"…" Upon seeing her, Mo Ran's temples throbbed with annoyance.

What bad luck, running into her again...

Seeing that it was Ye Wangxi who had arrived, Nan Gongsi's attendants were initially taken aback. Then, a few of them revealed expressions of disdain.

Ye Wangxi was the adopted son of the First Elder of the Confucian Wind Sect and belonged to the "Shadow City" among its seventy-two cities. As the name suggested, Shadow City specialized in training covert guards. The Sect Leader had intended to groom him as the next leader of the shadow guards, but due to Ye Wangxi's unsuitable constitution for their techniques, he eventually moved to the main city and became a trusted aide to the Supreme Ruler.

Due to his background as a shadow guard, Ye Wangxi maintained a low profile, and not many knew of his name. However, the Supreme Ruler held him in high regard, which led to rumors circulating within the sect that Ye Wangxi was the Supreme Ruler's illegitimate child. Perhaps because of this, the legitimate young master, Nan Gongsi, had always been at odds with Ye Wangxi.

If the young master didn't like him, how could his subordinates have any favorable impression of Young Master Ye?

As juniors, they were not supposed to offend young master Ye, but these people were all loyal to Nan Gongsi and answered directly to him. Thus, despite the awkward atmosphere, a bold one among them eventually scoffed and said, "Young master Ye, it's best you return. I'm afraid there's no room for you here today."

"Sir, since they say there's no space, let's... let's look elsewhere," Song Qiutong said, reaching out with her delicate fingers to tug on Ye Wangxi's sleeve, anxious and fearful. "Besides, this place is too extravagant. I really can't bear to have you spend more..."

Mo Ran, upstairs, rolled his eyes upon hearing this. He thought to himself that this guy truly had a knack for acting weak and pitiful wherever he went. He had tricked Mo Ran back then, and now he was trying to do the same to Ye Wangxi.

Just as Ye Wangxi was about to speak, a massive white figure suddenly dashed out from inside the room, pouncing behind him.

Song Qiutong cried out in alarm, "Be careful, sir!"

"Ao! Wu! Wu!"

Accompanied by a loud howl, a snow-white demonic wolf sprinted out and began circling Ye Wangxi frenziedly.

"..."

Amidst the stunned silence of the crowd.

Ye Wangxi lowered his gaze and looked at the three-meter-tall white-furred demon wolf now rolling on the ground in confusion. "Nao Baijin?"

This demonic wolf was precisely Nan Gongsi's mount. Named Nao Baijin due to its rubies-red eyes, snow-white fur, and golden-tipped claws.

Since Nao Baijin was here, it meant Nan Gongsi had certainly arrived. Ye Wangxi stroked the soft white forehead of the approaching wolf as he surveyed his surroundings.

Swoosh—

A hand pulled aside the bamboo screen, revealing a sleeve dyed in bright red with golden thread trimmings along the edges.

Half of a face, displaying impatience, emerged. Nan Gongsi crossed his arms nonchalantly, leaning against the private room. In one hand, he held a flask of fiery liquor. He glanced at Ye Wangxi twice before scoffing, "How intriguing. I seem to run into you wherever I go. If you tail me so closely and rumors start swirling about us, where would that leave my reputation?"

Author's Note: Wolf Cub: Here's five hundred, take it and leave.

Puppy: Not leaving.

Wolf Cub: Here, take a thousand, leave!

Puppy: Not leaving!

Wolf Cub: I'll give you fifteen hundred! Will you leave or not!

Puppy: In my previous life, this world was under my command. You, you deceased soul, can hold your tongue!

Wolf Puppy: How dare you curse me! *!&* Awoooowwww!!!!

Dog Puppy: Woof, awoo, arooo!!!

Owner: Hey? Is this the Wildlife Disease Control Center? I have two crazy dogs fighting in my shop, yes, one is a Husky and the other an Alaskan Malamute... That's right, that Alaskan Malamute has a Samoyed named Noble Platinum with him... Yes, they all seem unvaccinated, it's very dangerous...