Chapter Twenty-Five: Century-Old Wine, Seeking the Serpent in Disguise

“Please, sir, don’t be angry. Let’s talk this over. Here’s a small token of my respect—nothing much. I beg you to pardon my son’s offense!”
The old man hurriedly put on a smile, pulling out a silver ingot and trying to press it into Han Chong’s hand.
“Ah!” Han Chong sighed inwardly, lamenting the whims of fate and the inscrutable will of heaven. His anger faded, but he pushed the silver ingot back into the old man’s arms.
“I have no want for silver, but there is something else I’d like to ask for from your household.”
“Ah? Sir, my humble property is the lifeblood of my family. I beg you, show mercy!”
The old man wore a bitter smile, clasping his hands in supplication.
“Rest assured, I have no designs on your wealth. I recently encountered a fierce serpent demon, and ordinary realgar wine won’t suffice against it. Do you have any means to help?”
The old man’s surprise was evident; he hadn’t expected this official to require realgar wine. His expression relaxed and grew curious.
“If it were anything else, I wouldn’t dare promise, but when it comes to realgar wine, sir, you’ve come to the right man!”
“Oh? Do you truly have a solution?”
Han Chong’s eyes brightened; he hadn’t expected this unassuming elder to possess such expertise.
“Please, follow me.”
With that, the old man led Han Chong through the winding corridors of the distillery’s back courtyard, twisting and turning until they reached a secluded corner deep within.
The ground was covered by a thick black wooden board, locked securely.
The old man produced a key, unlocked it, and lifted the board to reveal a deep cellar. A rich, intoxicating aroma of wine wafted up.
Lighting a lamp, the old man guided Han Chong down into the cellar, which was nearly ten feet deep and fifty or sixty feet wide, its space packed with hundreds of mud-sealed black jars.
If a drunkard ever found his way here, he’d likely drink for three days and nights without pause!
The old man went straight to one corner, searching for a while before finally picking up a jar with red paper inscribed “realgar wine,” and turned around.
“Sir, please look.”
“This wine?”
Examining the jar closely, Han Chong saw its style was ancient, four-eared and square-edged—far more antique than the jars on the tavern tables.
“Hehe, this jar of realgar wine was made by my great-grandfather when he founded this distillery. It’s been sealed in the cellar for over a hundred years!
When first brewed, realgar wine is pungent and bitter, but after fifty years, it’s much like any ordinary wine.
After a hundred years, its aroma is richer than any common wine, and its medicinal properties are tenfold enhanced. It should be more than enough for your needs, sir!”
“Remarkable! Please, accept this silver ingot for your wine.”
Han Chong was overjoyed, pressing the silver into the old man’s hands and taking the jar.
“No, sir, I cannot accept it. My son offended you; please forgive him. Let this jar of realgar wine serve as an apology.”
The old man refused firmly, finally retreating and leaving the silver behind.
...
Han Chong arrived at a desolate plot outside the city, opened his robes, and released the white rat spirit onto the ground.
But the creature’s eyes were vacant; it lay limp and lifeless.
“White rat spirit, you may go. I hope you’ll refrain from evil henceforth.”
“Thank you, immortal. But my heart is broken, and I wish only to repay your kindness in the next life.”
With that, the white rat spirit dashed headlong into a black stone with a crash, its body mangled in an instant. Han Chong could not stop it.
He sighed, moved by the little spirit’s devotion, and dug a pit to bury it.
...
“Well! Captain Han, you’ve brought fine wine for your brothers, I see. But why only one jar? It’s hardly enough to wet my whistle!”
As soon as Han Chong returned to the branch office, Captain Wu’s eyes locked onto the jar in Han Chong’s arms, like a hungry cat unable to look away.
“Haha, so Captain Wu is a fellow lover of good drink.
But this wine isn’t for drinking; it has a greater purpose!”
“Oh? Just one jar—what use could it possibly have?”
The others gathered around, sniffing eagerly.
“This is century-old realgar wine. If that white jade serpent demon drank a cup, what do you think would happen?” Han Chong smiled.
Everyone gasped; Captain Han’s cunning was truly impressive, to think of such a clever plan!
“But how will you get the serpent demon to drink it willingly?” Cold Moon pursed her lips, questioning.
“Yes, Brother Han, your plan is clever, but the Marquis’s estate is heavily guarded. Getting the serpent demon to drink it would be nearly impossible!”
Captain Wu shook his head, sighing.
“Indeed, it is difficult, but not entirely impossible.”
Han Chong nodded. He had pondered the matter all the way back, and another idea had formed.
“What sly trick do you have now? Speak up!”
Captain Ning laughed and cursed, thinking Han Chong was a real fox, always full of strange schemes.
Han Chong closed his eyes, entered the system, and found a new technique to learn!
False Form: Allows one to alter appearance. Can also substitute other objects in place of oneself to escape deadly peril.
One can change appearance—man or woman, large or small, divine bird or exotic beast—endless transformations! The energy consumed depends on the form.
This was truly the transformation technique every cultivator dreamed of. It also allowed for transposition—a marvelous ability.
Han Chong spun around, and a cloud of mist rose.
When he reappeared, he had taken on the likeness of Marquis Lingzhen, startling everyone into retreat!
“Salute to the Marquis!” Captain Wu and Captain Ning led the others in bowing.
“Enough!” Han Chong suppressed his laughter, raising his hand in a deep voice.
Lost in his triumph, Cold Moon suddenly pinched his lower back.
He yelped, quickly escaping with the wine jar, grinning wryly.
“How dare you, Cold Chief?”
Everyone was first shocked, but seeing the Marquis unfazed, they realized the truth.
“Han, you sly dog, you even had us fooled!”
Captain Ning was the first to recover; he’d seen Han Chong’s invisibility trick before, so this transformation wasn’t surprising.
“Haha! So, if the serpent demon sees the Marquis bestowing wine, do you think she’ll drink?”
Mist rose again, and Han Chong resumed his own form, smiling gently.
He’d long coveted the illusion technique Ouyang Jing had used, and now he had mastered False Form!
Yet the invisibility skill surpassed it, so he’d reserved his last skill point for emergencies.
The seventy-two Earthly Fiend techniques were made for adapting to all situations; their power lay in versatility—truly profound!
“Yes! You are a real blessing, Han. With you in our Peijun branch, we’re unstoppable!”
Everyone marveled and laughed.
“Good, tonight wait outside the Marquis Lingzhen’s estate, and watch me turn it upside down!”
...
Marquis Lingzhen’s estate, facing south, with blue bricks and red tiles, covered a hundred acres.
Within were three mountains, four waterways, five halls, seven pavilions, eight kiosks, and nine galleries. The White Egret River brushed its edge, gathering all the beauty of Nan Prefecture.
At dusk, the group quietly approached a remote stretch of wall, and Han Chong, clutching the wine jar, prepared to slip inside.
“Be careful, Captain Han. If things go awry, come back quickly,” everyone advised.

Han Chong vanished into thin air with a leap, leaving no trace.
...
Scaling the tall wall, he saw below an orchard of apricot and peach trees, dotted with elegant pavilions and towers. Servants and maids roamed in twos and threes.
At regular intervals around the wall stood wooden watchtowers, each scanning the grounds.
Dropping down, Han Chong sped toward the rear courtyard.
It was lamp-lighting time for the servants, but a strange wind blew past, making the flames flicker, though all remained calm.
The rear courtyard held over ten exquisite small manors, each attended by maids serving noblewomen—some fifty-year beauties, others sixteen-year girls, all manner of ladies!
Some admired flowers and moon, some played flutes and strings, others bathed and frolicked.
Han Chong investigated every manor thoroughly, but found no trace of Lady White Jade!
Just as he despaired, he spotted a lakeside pavilion in the distance.
Marquis Lingzhen appeared, heading from the front courtyard toward the lotus lake.
Han Chong raised his brows and hurried to follow.
The Marquis dismissed his attendants and strode alone along the bridge toward the island, his face dark and brooding.
Before he entered the island’s villa, a sharp, girlish laugh rang out.
“Oh! The Marquis finally remembers to return. I’ve been waiting so long!”
The Marquis’s expression remained cold as he parted the white gauze and entered the inner hall.
A white shadow flashed, leaping into the Marquis’s arms—white gauze, soft as boneless, her legs winding around his waist like ribbons.
“Hmph! White Jade, are you aware of what happened at the Flower Burial Pavilion today?”
The Marquis’s tiger eyes glared, his brows bristling, menace clear.
“Why so angry, Marquis? It was only twenty-odd little demons. With one gesture, I can summon a host of monsters, a parade of ghosts.”
White Jade’s slender eyes flashed with seductive smiles, utterly unconcerned by the extermination of the Flower Burial Pavilion’s monsters.
“Hmph! Even so, the Demon-Slaying Bureau is watching me. If word reaches the imperial ears, I’ll be in grave danger!”
The Marquis pushed White Jade aside and lay down on a cool couch; she, however, followed, throwing herself into his arms.
“Are you afraid, Marquis?”
“Afraid? How can I not be? Do you think the court is easy to fool? One wrong step, and it’s ruin!”
“Oh, I understand. Soon, I’ll invite the Great King to uproot the Demon-Slaying Bureau.
Then Peijun Prefecture will be at your command, Marquis. What have you to fear?”
“Oh? You’d better hurry, or things may change. I want the accursed Demon-Slaying Bureau wiped out!”
Hearing White Jade’s promise, the Marquis’s anger abated, and he gazed at the beautiful snake demon in his arms.
Thousands of words omitted...
Han Chong waited anxiously outside the hall, realizing it was no time to act. He retreated to a side room and canceled his invisibility to conserve energy.
After an hour’s frustrated waiting, the Marquis finally left, satisfied.
“Hmph, that old fool! When I control all of Peijun Prefecture, I’ll throw him into the pit and let him taste the torment of neither living nor dying!”
White Jade hissed, her cherry lips parted, a blood-red snake tongue flickering three feet long, swirling for several breaths before her slender eyes opened.
But scarcely a quarter hour had passed when she frowned—the old man had returned again. He was harder to dismiss than expected!