"If you ever need anything, just say the word. As long as I'm free, I'll come whenever you call."

"Alright then, I've been waiting for you to say that."

Lord Zhu enthusiastically grabbed Wen Yan by the arm and pulled him inside.

This place was full of ghosts, so Wen Yan had to restrain his Yang energy, or he was afraid he might accidentally hurt someone.

All the way inside, a bunch of ghosts were drinking alcohol; every dish on every table had a stick of incense stuck in it, but as he walked in, Wen Yan couldn't actually smell any incense or candle wax.

Lord Zhu sat Wen Yan down and, without another word, stuffed a wine flask into his hand.

"You came at just the right time. Drink a couple cups with me first. I've been wanting to get a drink with you since last time, but it just wasn't convenient back then. Now that you've come to my place, let's enjoy a few more rounds."

Wen Yan smiled, didn't refuse, poured himself a drink, and toasted Lord Zhu three times.

Once they finished drinking, Lord Zhu pulled him along to introduce him to the guests.

"Everyone, this is the little brother I mentioned to you before, a top talent from Fuyu Mountain—Wen Yan."

Wen Yan politely greeted the assembled ghosts.

Lord Zhu led him to one ghost with features like a jade-crowned prince, very much the handsome ancient style.

"This is Shen Zijun, from Fengdu. Just like you, a fine-looking gentleman. But somehow he insisted on sneaking into a desolate tomb for the experience, so he arrived a few days earlier."

Wen Yan raised his glass in a toast, and Shen Zijun returned the politeness, tossing a few compliments his way and mentioning he'd heard plenty of stories about Fuyu Mountain.

Next up was an old ghost with skin as black as charcoal. Lord Zhu grinned and said,

"This here is Ji Boying, the old ghost of Helan Mountain. You're here right on time; before, whenever I invited this old ghost to a show, he'd never come. Today he just happened to be passing by."

The old ghost with the dark, scorched skin grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth, with a hint of chill in his voice.

"A top talent from the Three Mountains and Five Ridges is a rare sight. Here, let me toast you first."

The old ghost picked up a cup of wine and handed it to Wen Yan. That wine radiated a gloomy chill, and the cup itself was starting to frost over.

Lord Zhu was still smiling, but there was a trace of aggression in that smile now.

Wen Yan cheerfully stepped forward, accepted the cup, and downed it in one gulp. As he felt the cold in his belly, he actually felt much more comfortable—not using Scorching Sun to stimulate his Yang energy at all.

He patted his stomach, slowly let out a wine burp, and a wisp of faint Yin energy drifted out.

"Thank you, Senior. I've actually been fretting these days about my internal fire—too much Yang energy, can't figure out how to suppress it.

Didn't expect you, Senior, to see through my problem at a glance.

Now I finally feel a bit better..."

When everyone heard Wen Yan's words and saw how he acted, a few in the crowd immediately whooped it up, loving the drama.

Wen Yan held the wine cup in his left hand and poured wine with his right; and without hiding it at all, rinsed his left middle finger in the wine cup, while the wine he poured with his right hand glowed fiery red, like molten lava, radiating fierce Yang energy.

Pouring out the wine, Wen Yan held up the cup in both hands and presented it to the old ghost.

"Come, Senior, please do let me toast you in return."

The old ghost stared at the wine for a moment, silent.

This youngster sure plays dirty.

But if he refused to drink now, he'd be admitting defeat.

The old ghost took the cup and drank it down in one go.

As soon as the wine hit his belly, he realized—this was not just poisoned, but laced with powerful Yang energy. The sheer force of it was incredible.

His expression changed slightly. He put one hand on his own stomach.

He'd underestimated it—the wine contained corpse poison, and probably from a green-haired Deformed Corpse at that. Plus the Yang energy was way more than he'd expected.

In just a few breaths, holes started burning right through his stomach, and it looked like his ghostly body was about to be corroded to nothing.

Lord Zhu just stood by, beaming and enjoying the show, with zero intention of stepping in to help.

At that moment, Wen Yan reached out and put his hand on the other's shoulder.

The corpse poison inside the old ghost gradually dissipated, and even the Yang energy faded away too.

Wen Yan looked sincere as he cupped his fists.

"Senior Ji, this is our first meeting, there's naturally no bad blood between us. But back in the day, did something happen with Fuyu Mountain? Why not talk it out—maybe I could help smooth things over."

Ji Boying looked at Wen Yan, momentarily stunned—he hadn't expected Wen Yan to help him deal with it, and actually say something like that.

Lord Zhu, standing by, just curled his lips.

"What grudge could there be? Just that he got his ass kicked by Fuyu Mountain folks once, and now tries to bully a junior right in front of me—shameless."

Ji Boying, after being called out, looked down and saw the holes in his stomach were already healing. Looking back up at Wen Yan's earnest face, he sighed and cupped his hands.

"Lord Zhu's right—I've been too petty. Back then, I was injured by the Sixteenth Ancestor of Fuyu Mountain, but honestly, that was because my own skills weren't up to snuff.

I really shouldn't be picking on a junior just for that.

Sigh. Well then, I'll take my leave."

Wen Yan's eyes lit up—what a guy, an old ghost who didn't dissipate all those years ago, must've been pretty strong to survive and revive now.

No wonder that hand-brewed Yin Cold Wine packed such a punch—not your run-of-the-mill ghost, that's for sure.

Wen Yan hurriedly grabbed Ji Boying's arm.

"Senior Ji, what are you saying! No need to leave in a hurry. With misunderstandings cleared up, everything's fine, right?

I should really thank you, Senior. I've been troubled lately, just wanted to find some heavy Yin and cold elements to balance things out.

The fire in my body is really just too much. I'm truly suffering.

If it's convenient for you, Senior, would you mind helping me out?"

Forget about Ji Boying being confused by this turn of events—even Lord Zhu was cracking up now. He couldn't tell if Wen Yan was pulling his leg or totally serious.

Wen Yan took a step back and stopped holding in his Yang energy, straight up looking like he was about to burst into flames.

He released it for a moment, then immediately restrained it again, quickly grabbing onto Ji Boying, afraid the old ghost might bolt.

"Hahahahaha..." Lord Zhu watched as Ji Boying went from looking totally baffled to his expression twisting up, laughing so hard he slapped his leg.

In the end, faced with Wen Yan's sincere, expectant eyes, Ji Boying could only give a rueful smile and sit back down, a bit drained.

"You're really nothing like the usual Fuyu Mountain guys..."

"Senior..." Wen Yan poured more wine, staring at Ji Boying with a face full of anticipation.

Ji Boying, feeling all kinds of complicated, finally just stretched out a finger and lightly tapped the rim of his wine cup. Immediately, a chilling cold seeped out of the cup.

Wen Yan drank it in one gulp, looking totally satisfied.

The chicken broth from Eighth Uncle-Master Ancestor was long gone. He'd really not been feeling well these past few days, popping pills way too much, and had already started cutting back on his daily dosage.

Now he finally felt comfortable.

Ji Boying could see it clear as day—Wen Yan really was telling the truth!

He laughed at himself; after all these years, his own mind was still less generous than that of a junior.

Forget it, forget it. The Sixteenth Ancestor of Fuyu Mountain died who knows how many years ago. Still hung up on those old grudges all this time—it's really not worth it.

No idea what's up with those troublemakers from Fuyu Mountain who dragged a Great Zombie everywhere back in the day, but now they've ended up with a disciple like this.

Seriously, times have changed.

Ji Boying poured himself a drink, swallowed it down, and shook his head. If the Sixteenth Ancestor were still around, maybe he'd bring it up again—but as for picking on that guy's junior, forget it. He really would have no self-respect if he stooped that low.

Lord Zhu could probably laugh over this for a whole year.

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