Chapter 249: I Am Especially Good To You

Chapter 249: I Am Especially Good to You

Zhao Changhe found it hard to tell if this was just a chance encounter... If not, and the man had been waiting here specifically for him, that would be something else entirely.

The eighteen Changhe streams had scattered in all directions; before that, even he himself hadn’t known which gate he’d take—it was a completely random pick. Could this man have predicted it? Or had he followed from behind, arriving later but faster, outpacing even the Snow-Treading Black Steed by such a margin?

If he couldn’t figure it out, he’d stop trying for now. Zhao Changhe decided to treat it as an ordinary meeting, sitting down across from the old man with ease: “Though I enjoy a drink or two myself, old sir, it’s not good to drink on an empty stomach in the morning.”

“Who said it’s empty? Isn’t there still these peanuts?” The old man pushed the peanuts a little closer to him. “Have some?”

Zhao Changhe snapped his fingers at the waiter: “Bring a few steamed buns.”

Soon, steaming hot buns were set on the table. Zhao Changhe pushed them toward the old man. “Fill your stomach a bit.”

Without standing on ceremony, he grabbed a bun and wolfed it down in a few bites, then leisurely poured himself a cup of wine, treating it as a drink to wash down the bun.

The old man also took a bun and ate slowly, watching Zhao Changhe’s ravenous manner without interrupting, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Only after Zhao Changhe finished one bun did the old man speak: “Good appetite. A stalwart man, and a stalwart blade.”

Zhao Changhe, chewing on his second bun, looked up at him. “Old sir, do you recognize this blade?”

“A blade so unique—no need to have seen it before; anyone would give it a second glance.”

“Are you a high-ranking official, old sir?”

“You could say that.” The old man sipped his wine and countered, “Don’t I look like one?”

“Not really. At least I’ve never seen a high official without a single attendant by his side.”

“Then, young friend, what do you think of such an official?”

Zhao Changhe squinted at him for a long moment before slowly replying, “Whether an official is good or not—you can’t tell from a place like this.”

“Then how can you tell?”

Zhao Changhe pointed to the edge of the post station, where a beggar was curled up against the wall, still asleep. “This is the capital, under the emperor’s very nose. Don’t you find it jarring, old sir?”

The old man said, “If it’s jarring, what about killing him?”

Zhao Changhe’s gaze turned sharp. The old man, unperturbed, continued to pour and drink his wine.

But Zhao Changhe suddenly laughed. “I think the barbarians are more jarring. Why not kill a few of them, old sir?”

The old man smiled again. “Indeed, they are also killable.”

“What if I take a dislike to you, old sir? Would you slit your own throat?”

“Then I’d invite you, young friend, to come and kill me yourself.”

“No self, no other—nothing that cannot be killed?”

“Only because might makes right. For example, if you want a world without beggars, first you must make others listen to your methods. If all you can do is ask others, you’ll only get their methods. It doesn’t matter if you disagree—you have no say.”

Zhao Changhe nodded slightly. “True.”

“Young friend, you’re leaving the capital. Where are you headed?”

“Yanmen.”

“In the capital, you can solve the beggar problem.”

“At Yanmen, you can solve the barbarian problem.”

“Is that so?” The old man chuckled. “Just as killing a beggar doesn’t make beggars vanish, killing barbarians doesn’t make the barbarian threat vanish. The root of solving the barbarian problem lies in the capital, not Yanmen.”

Zhao Changhe was silent for a moment, then said slowly, “As you said, in the capital, even if I disagree, it’s useless—I have no say.”

“Did you originally want to have a say?”

Zhao Changhe stared at him with narrowed eyes, mechanically biting into his bun as if to fill his stomach as quickly as possible, to have strength for whatever might come.

The old man chuckled softly, then abruptly changed the subject. “Yesterday evening, at the Zhang Family Tavern, you drank a bowl of wine and knocked down a man. By the time the wine jar was empty, everyone fell silent. Wasn’t that exhilarating? Why then, before dawn, did you leave in such haste? It seemed unfinished—a pity, truly. By chance we meet; may I ask the reason?”

Zhao Changhe replied cautiously, “I just came to the capital for fun. When there was nothing left to do, I left. What’s there to linger for?”

The old man smiled. “Such an anticlimax—surely there’s something left undone, and you left with regret?”

Zhao Changhe asked outright, “Old sir, have you been waiting here for me to help me finish that unfinished business?”

“You could see it that way.”

Zhao Changhe swallowed the bun, nearly choking.

What was his unfinished business?

To see Xia Longyuan with his own eyes.

Tang Wanzhuang and Huangfu Qing had both seen through it: he had stirred up trouble at the tavern precisely to catch Xia Longyuan’s attention and be summoned. After all, he was the inheritor of Xia Longyuan’s Six Harmonies Divine Art and Dragon Sparrow—Xia Longyuan couldn’t be unaware. Since he allowed it, it meant communication was possible.

Most likely, Xia Longyuan had known all along about his and Xia Chichi’s affair. Since he was already here, Zhao Changhe figured he might as well meet him directly—what was there to hide?

But then he’d gone to the gambling den to gather intelligence and been frightened. If Xia Longyuan would kill his own son, his mental state might be questionable, making the outcome of such a meeting unpredictable. Combined with Huangfu Qing’s information, the real Xia Longyuan wasn’t someone he could see anyway—he’d probably meet a fake, which would be worthless, and the fake might even want him dead.

Tang Wanzhuang knew this too—her worry was for the emperor.

The situation didn’t match his earlier expectations. Better to leave. So this trip had ended anticlimactically; he’d slunk away in the night, abandoning all thoughts of meeting Xia Longyuan.

And now this man before him said he was here to help him finish that unfinished business.

Damn it!

Don’t tell me this is Xia Longyuan!

Not only Xia Longyuan, but the real one! At the very least, someone sent by the real one to communicate.

But Zhao Changhe felt it was unlikely they’d send someone else. Finding a more loyal subject than Tang Wanzhuang wasn’t easy—she was the perfect mouthpiece. There was no need to send another. If someone came to meet him, it was probably the man himself.

Even if Zhao Changhe had imagined countless identities for this old man, he’d never thought he’d encounter Xia Longyuan in such a situation, sitting here chatting like some roadside elder with a smile. Completely unprepared, his mind went blank.

If this guy wanted to kill him, he might as well just give up and sleep.

Clinging to a last shred of hope, Zhao Changhe cautiously probed: “We’ve talked so much, but I still don’t know your esteemed name, old sir.”

The old man gave an ambiguous smile. “Whoever you think I am, that’s who I am.”

Damn it.

Zhao Changhe said bluntly, “A man of your caliber, if you have something to say, just say it. Why pretend to be some high-ranking old man, testing and probing? What’s the point? It only cheapens your stature.”

“There is a point.” Xia Longyuan said calmly, “It’s been many, many years since anyone, without caring who I am, just treated me as an old man, advised me not to drink in the morning on an empty stomach, to fill my belly, and bought me steamed buns to eat.”

Zhao Changhe: “You experts always like to test people this way?”

Xia Longyuan: “...”

“But I don’t think someone like you would think any differently of a person because of such a small thing. In your eyes, this should be trivial—everyone is measured by strength and weakness, benefit and harm.”

“Is that the Xia Longyuan in your eyes?”

“Isn’t it? When I said that beggar was jarring, your reaction was to kill him.”

Xia Longyuan thought for a moment, then suddenly laughed. “Maybe you’re right. At least I wouldn’t spare your life just because of a well-meaning steamed bun.”

“So why don’t you kill me? Because of your son?”

“Don’t you think I’ve been especially good to you?”

“?”

“Look, I know you're leaving with regret, so I've come specially to fulfill what you sought in the capital, to make your journey complete, so you won't have come for nothing. Tell me, isn't that good to you?”

Zhao Changhe said speechlessly, “Well, when you put it that way, indeed.”

Xia Longyuan leisurely sipped his wine and continued, “My martial arts, my daughter, my most loyal minister, and my nominal imperial consort—look, they're all yours. Have I ever caused you trouble? If I'm not good to you, then who in this world is good to you? A blind man?”

Zhao Changhe: “...”

This Xia Longyuan was really quite different from what he had imagined... Of course, that was because they hadn't delved deep into the topic yet; the big shot was still toying with him.

But no matter how he toyed with him, Zhao Changhe had finally met the one person in this world who could talk about the blind man with him in such a casual manner.

He had originally thought that coming to the capital this time was a mistake, meaningless, and that he would leave in disgrace.

Yet unexpectedly, the true significance was waiting right here.

“You should have come long ago. A bunch of little brats, making wild guesses, scaring themselves, laughable. Who has the patience to scheme with a bunch of little ants, so self-righteous.”

“...”

Xia Longyuan drained his cup, stood up, and said, “The autumn day is just right; the morning sun lifts the spirits. Care to take a walk with your father?”

Zhao Changhe: “?”

Changhe had drifted through half his life...

No, wait, just now you were talking about your daughter, showing you know everything. How come you suddenly start calling yourself my father!

The number one martial power in the world was temporarily invisible, but the number one leap in logic was truly hard to keep up with. Zhao Changhe took a deep breath and strode after him: “I never acknowledged that, don't call yourself that.”

“Isn't a father-in-law still a father? If you have the guts, don't call me that.”

“...” The number one in the world was indeed the number one—with just one sentence, a direct kill.