Chapter 88: The Wine Immortal Brews Wine, Discussing the Origin of Heaven

For a long moment, neither of them spoke a word, and the room was steeped in silence. The woman turned her back to Su Fan, lost in her own thoughts. Su Fan, meanwhile, lowered his head in silence, his posture tinged with awkwardness, and stared absently at the violet flower on the table.

After some time, the woman gave a soft cough and finally spoke: “You are free here. The entire garden in this vicinity is yours to enjoy.”

Su Fan’s heart leapt with joy. If he could truly have such a tranquil, hermit-like life, it would not be so bad—he could spare himself the endless scheming and rivalry, and avoid a life of displeasure.

The woman paused before continuing, “If you wish to visit the city, you may, but you are not to leave its walls. Should I need you, I will send word.”

Su Fan smiled and nodded.

She went on: “But remember this—you may offend anyone in the city, for my sect, Tianyuan Gate, fears no one. But you must never offend the Messenger.”

Su Fan was puzzled. “The Messenger?”

The woman did not answer his question, but continued, “And another thing: you must not leave the city. No matter how grave the matter, you must seek my approval first.”

Su Fan bowed again. “I will follow your instructions, my lady.”

Once more, silence settled between them. After a moment, the woman turned into a streak of red and drifted out of the room, leaving behind only a single phrase: “As for the Elder Guard, he is your senior—he deserves respect.”

Su Fan was startled. He thought to himself: If you had not sent that elder to test me, how would I have so easily offended someone—especially a senior?

Had Su Fan not resorted to a surprise attack earlier, another fierce battle might have ensued.

With a helpless shake of his head, Su Fan looked around the room and could not help but smile in satisfaction. Though the quarters were humble, it was precisely the kind of peaceful, harmonious life he longed for.

Gazing out the window, he watched a slanting ray of sunlight fall upon the spot where the woman had just stood, leaving behind a faint lingering fragrance.

He formed a seal with his hands, transformed into a purple mist, and vanished without a trace.

Lin Xiaofeng had often spoken of the Old Wine Street, and Su Fan had kept it in mind. Were it not for his duty to enter the prefect’s residence, he would truly have liked to learn the art of winemaking.

He had feared the prefect’s residence would be too restrictive, offering him no such chance. But the woman’s words filled him with delight.

The lure of Old Wine Street was too great. Su Fan could not bring himself to rest, and set off at once.

As he passed the pavilion at the entrance, Su Fan deliberately stopped and bowed respectfully to the old man seated there.

The elder said nothing, his eyes closed in meditation. Perhaps he was healing from his wounds and did not notice Su Fan, or perhaps he simply had nothing to say.

Su Fan was not one to press his advantage. Besides, it had been somewhat improper for him to strike first—the elder was, after all, a senior.

Thus, Su Fan did not take the old man’s indifference to heart, and with a flicker, vanished from the courtyard.

Luo Immortal City was truly a fairyland: all day the mists swirled, the rain blurred the world into a dreamlike haze. After asking around, Su Fan finally found his long-desired Old Wine Street at the corner of the eastern city.

Curiously, Old Wine Street was not filled with the fragrance of wine but rather the fresh earthy scent that lingers after rain.

Few people walked the street, and those who did hurried along, scattered and preoccupied.

Su Fan stepped onto the muddy earth of Old Wine Street, his brow furrowed. The wine-scented vision he’d imagined stood in stark contrast to reality.

At the street’s end, he finally saw Drunken Immortal Tavern—the place Lin Xiaofeng had spoken of—which did have some atmosphere.

An ancient little building hung with a carefree calligraphy of the word “wine.” Su Fan stepped through the door, and was instantly greeted by a rich, intoxicating aroma.

A faint smile touched Su Fan’s lips—he was glad he had not come to the wrong place, and even more so at the prospect of having wine to drink.

Behind the counter, the bookkeeper yawned lazily, staring blankly at a yellowed ledger, saying nothing, though he had clearly seen Su Fan enter.

Su Fan smiled gently and asked in a soft voice, “Does your establishment teach the art of winemaking?” Not wishing to disturb the peaceful air, he spoke so quietly the bookkeeper did not hear.

Receiving no answer, Su Fan repeated the question, this time raising his voice.

The bookkeeper finally heard and replied dully, “If you want to learn to make wine, go to the back courtyard and find Old Master Winemaker.”

In the rear courtyard stood a refined little room, outside which grew several plum trees. The blossoms had not yet bloomed, leaving the branches bare.

Inside, an old man with snow-white hair and beard sat cross-legged, holding a horsetail whisk and warming a pot of wine.

Behind him stood a massive stone platform covered by a huge bowl-shaped lid.

Su Fan entered quietly. The old man remained focused on his wine, smiling as he spoke: “In such a rainy season, I suppose you are not here to drink.”

Su Fan nodded.

“You are so young; surely you have not come here by mistake,” the old man continued.

Su Fan smiled in response.

The old man nodded and said with a grin, “Then you must be here to learn winemaking from me.”

Su Fan nodded, bowed, and said, “Junior Su Fan seeks to learn the art of winemaking from you, Senior.”

The old man’s gaze flickered, and he replied gently, “Since you are a cultivator, there is no need to call me ‘Senior.’”

Su Fan chuckled. “Your eyes are keen, but I am junior to you by age regardless of cultivation.”

The old man laughed heartily. “Good, very good!”

Just then, Su Fan noticed something odd: the lid behind the old man slowly lifted, and someone leapt out—it was Lin Xiaofeng. Su Fan paused, then smiled at the old man.

The old man looked kindly at Lin Xiaofeng and said, “Your friend is indeed excellent.”

Lin Xiaofeng grinned. “We’ve been brothers for years—how could I deceive you?”

Su Fan was speechless. A child and an old man with white hair claimed to be lifelong brothers; yet the old man’s expression stayed perfectly calm, as if it were true.

Su Fan gave Lin Xiaofeng a curious look. “Are you really hundreds of years old?”

Lin Xiaofeng frowned. “So you still don’t believe what I told you?”

Su Fan managed a wry smile. “Now I suppose I do.”

Lin Xiaofeng chuckled. “Did you not go to the prefect’s residence?”

Suddenly the old man spoke. “You were planning to go to the prefect’s residence?”

Su Fan sighed. “I went there, hoping to learn the Immortal’s brewing arts, but found there was nothing of the sort.”

The old man smiled. “I do not know how to brew the Immortal’s wine, but I can make the most delicious wine in the mortal world.”

Lin Xiaofeng grew impatient. “Is the warmed wine not ready yet?”

The old man smiled faintly. “Just a moment longer. Young man, since you know of the Immortals, do you also know of Tianyuan Gate?”

His tone was so sincere that Su Fan felt it wrong to conceal anything. “I do.”

“And do you know that Tianyuan Gate has seven factions?”

Su Fan nodded silently.