Chapter 217 — Homeland
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 6 of 7
Who in this world can truly say what is right and what is wrong?
The waiter seemed to realize he had lost his composure. He flushed, stepped back, and said in a low voice, "This—this is just idle talk, miss, don't take it seriously. Would you, would you like to order?"
Xiao Bai smiled. "Very well. But there's no need to pick out particular dishes—go down and tell the proprietor to send up three or four of your best small dishes, and bring ten jugs of good wine as well."
The waiter was taken aback. "Ten jugs?"
Xiao Bai glanced at him and nodded. "Ten jugs."
The waiter choked for a moment, then after a long hesitation said quietly, "Miss, may I ask if any friends will be joining you? If so, I'd best add a few more bowls and chopsticks in advance."
Xiao Bai laughed. "Don't overthink it. It's just me. Ten jugs of wine it is—bring them up quickly, and don't ask anything more."
The waiter murmured his assent and retreated, though his eyes plainly showed disbelief. And no wonder—for an ordinary man, the greatest capacity is but one or two jugs; anyone who can drink four or five must be either a wine immortal or a drunken devil. Yet this woman of boundless charm was clearly a "normal person" who could not be judged by normal standards.
Since there were few patrons, the waiter soon brought up the dishes Xiao Bai had ordered and set them on the table. The ten jugs, each engraved on the outside with "Shan Hai Yuan," were before long lined up neatly at the other end of the table.
It was just as well the tavern was in a slow spell; had it been busy, would the whole establishment not have gathered round to gawk? Even so, Xiao Bai likely would not have cared in the least.
The waiter soon went back downstairs, leaving Xiao Bai alone in the private room. She poured her own wine and drank, and before long one fine jug was empty to the dregs, while on her cheeks only the faintest pink had appeared—not a trace of drunkenness, but rather a touch more allure.
"Ah."
Suddenly, she gave just such a soft sigh.
The fine wine, pure as amber, poured in a thin thread from the jug's mouth into the cup, raising tiny splashes. Xiao Bai gazed at the cup before her, at her own dim reflection swaying gently on the surface.
Then she smiled—a smile with a trace of bitterness in it—lifted the cup, and drained it in one go.
Beyond the window, the street flowed on with people's myriad voices, bustling past in endless streams. Those sounds seemed very distant, as though they came from another world.
She set the sixth empty jug aside.
The gentle red on her cheeks set off her ageless, eternal beauty, and in those eyes there was still nothing but clarity.
Wine has always intoxicated men—but never the heart!
Her white teeth caught her lip in a light bite; alone, she gave a low laugh, tossed her head, and raised her hand to pour again.
Out on the street beyond the window, the clamor somehow seemed to swell suddenly. Xiao Bai frowned, moved to the window, and looked down. In that one glance she started—there, slowly walking along the street below, was a woman in white, her beauty pure and ethereal, drifting like an immortal. Who else could it be but Lu Xueling?
The people around seemed drawn by Lu Xueling's peerless beauty, yet cowed by her icy air; not daring to approach, they gathered at a distance to watch and chatter—that was the reason for the commotion. Watching Lu Xueling's figure, a smile slowly surfaced at the corner of Xiao Bai's mouth.
"Truly, in life there is nowhere one does not meet." She murmured this with a half-smile, and rose to her feet, looking as though she meant to greet Lu Xueling of her own accord. But she had no sooner stood than her expression suddenly froze, and her gaze left Lu Xueling below and drifted toward a remote corner far off in He Yin City.