Jun Wuyi frowned slightly. "Mo Xie, both you and I know clearly that Qinghan's departure is fundamentally a private matter for the Guan family, having little to do with my Jun family. Although Qinghan carries the title of the Jun family's eldest grandson's wife, it is practically an empty title. Furthermore, since the wedding ceremony was never held, whether legally or factually speaking, Qinghan cannot truly be considered one of us Jun family members. It was merely a necessary measure back then to accommodate her profound grief following the sudden passing of your elder brother, to manage her emotions and prevent any drastic actions."

"But Qinghan is still young and deserves another happy and fulfilling marriage. The two of them already had an understanding, and the formal documents for dissolving the engagement were actually prepared long ago—drafted personally by your grandfather right after your elder brother met his unfortunate end. They are still preserved. If Qinghan simply nods her consent, our Jun family will immediately deploy every resource and channel available, both within the clan and through official channels, to proclaim her innocence to the world!"

"If Qinghan makes that decision, we will genuinely rejoice for her. Should Qinghan find a worthy match again, our Jun family will send her off with the full ceremony befitting a daughter marrying out. To remain unmarried in the Jun family forever is deeply unfair to her! You understand this, don't you?" Jun Wuyi looked up toward the bright moon in the sky, a deep sense of regret shining in his eyes. "Qinghan is truly a wonderful, wonderful girl. It seems our Jun family, and your elder brother, were simply not blessed enough to keep her."

"Third Uncle, if Eldest Sister-in-law truly finds a good match, we will naturally be happy for her. However, I still feel... the Guan family is behaving strangely!" Jun Mo Wu frowned, suddenly feeling an unsettling prickle of discomfort in his heart.

"If the Guan family disregards Qinghan’s happiness merely to balance their own interests, that is an entirely different matter. While the Guan family is Qinghan's maternal home, my Jun family is her true support; the daughters of the Jun family are not to be trifled with!" Jun Wuyi declared coldly, the bearing of a Grandmaster of the Heaven Profound realm manifesting completely in that moment! "Third Uncle, truly magnificent spirit! Worthy of being a Grandmaster of Heaven's Zenith, a Blood-Clad General of his generation!" Jun Mo Wu applauded enthusiastically.

"Get lost!" Jun Wuyi delivered a swift kick to the backside of the Young Master Jun. The power of a Heaven Profound Grandmaster was not to be underestimated; Jun Mo Wu shot away as if riding the clouds, and immediately, a dark object pursued him through the air, nestling into his embrace.

"That’s what you wanted!" Jun Wuyi chuckled lightly and sauntered away, considering it a rare opportunity to gain the upper hand over his nephew.

The Young Master Jun executed a wonderfully graceful mid-air tumble, landing safely with the legendary 'Butt Skyward, Wild Goose Settles Style,' sliding forward a short distance before scrambling to his feet. Jun Wuyi’s force was perfectly calibrated: he only kicked him flying, causing no injury whatsoever, a clear demonstration of the Grandmaster's supreme control... He retrieved the dark object from his robes, and Jun Mo Wu smiled mysteriously... It was the Profound Core of a sixth-tier Demonic Beast! The crimson sun was just beginning to dip in the west, and it was already the following afternoon.

Jun Mo Xie, carrying two jars of wine, boarded the conveyance he least enjoyed—a sedan chair—and swayed unsteadily towards Old Song's small tavern.

Meanwhile, at Old Song's Tavern, every seat was already filled with anxious patrons.

Old Song had initially planned to open for only half a day, but after reconsideration, he decided against opening at all that day, hanging a 'Closed' sign. He wouldn't miss a single day's business. He was busy preparing the establishment for Ding Shi’s competition.

A drinking contest was one of the rare, greatest joys in Old Song’s life—not one of the joys, but truly the singular pleasure! The thrill and excitement surpassed even engaging in combat with masters of comparable power.

Though unsure if the young fellow could truly bring the Heavenly-Grade spirit wine that surpassed his own by a hundredfold, he was filled with anticipation. While he was certain no Heavenly-Grade wine in existence could surpass his own by such a margin, the wine the boy brought, even if not quite as extraordinary as boasted, was still something to look forward to...

By mid-morning, the once-grimy little tavern had been scrubbed until it was spotless, not a speck of dust remaining. Snow-white wall cloths covered the surroundings, even draping down from the ceiling to the floor. The floor now boasted a layer of pale green carpeting. All the mismatched, broken tables and stools had been cleared out, replaced by two long, elegant tables with fine white jade tops, alongside several high-quality sandalwood chairs, all arranged with meticulous precision.

Upon the tables sat two pyramids of white jade wine cups, totaling forty-eight cups—twenty-four in a pointed stack for each arrangement. In the corners of the room, strings of pearl-sized orbs, large as pigeon eggs, hung from top to bottom, emitting a soft, gentle radiance. Reflected and refracted by the jade tabletops and cups, the entire tavern was bathed in a dazzling spectrum of colorful, magnificent hues, giving anyone who entered the immediate sensation of stepping into a paradisiacal dreamscape...

That middle-aged man rushed in excitedly, immediately cried out in surprise, and then pulled his foot back, looking around suspiciously. Indeed, this is Old Song’s Tavern’s location; how has it suddenly become cleaner and more luxurious than my own princely estate? This place bore no resemblance to the slovenly dive it once was; one could hardly call it anything less than a heavenly pleasure ground, an earthly paradise!

Old Song hurried over to greet him. The middle-aged man walked in hesitantly, muttering in awe, "Old Song, you are utterly bizarre. You say we’re having a drinking duel today, but isn't it just tasting a couple of cups? Why all this formality? You nearly frightened this King into staying outside." Old Song knew his true identity, so he didn't need to maintain excessive decorum.

"You can't say that. Wine might be a small thing to others, but to me, it is the greatest affair under heaven! Furthermore, I have a premonition this contest might be the Dragon-Tiger Battle I've dreamed of my entire life! It might even become the most cherished memory of Song Shang’s existence." Old Song said solemnly.

"Song Shang? So you are Song Shang! The 'One Toast to the Lord, One Wound to the Body' Song Shang of yesteryear!" The Prince exclaimed in surprise, then laughed, "But why do you hide your identity from me today?"

"What meaning is left in concealing it?" Song Shang offered a bitter smile. His entire background was exposed three days ago by that black-robed man; what was there left to hide? Even if he continued to conceal it, it would be meaningless. If it weren't for today's drinking contest, Old Song would likely have closed the tavern three days ago and sought a new hiding place.

"Legend says Song Shang was handsome, elegant, and refined, with the strange habit of always offering his opponent a cup of fine wine before killing them. He was known as the Gentleman of Wine, 'A Cup for You, A Journey to the Yellow Springs'—but tell me, Brother Song, what caused you to become this way?" The Prince asked with a slight, smiling surprise. "Past sorrows are unbearable to recall; what good is revisiting them?" Song Shang shook his head slightly, his eyes filled with deep bitterness, and he gestured for his attendant.

The Prince was perceptive enough not to press further. Beside him stood a young boy of about ten, exquisitely crafted, like a porcelain doll, adorable in appearance. Facing a stranger, the boy deliberately forced an expression of composure and dignity, but secretly, one small hand clutched the Prince's clothing tightly. "This is my son, Yang Jiu." The Prince gently stroked the boy’s head, his face alight with paternal affection.

"Good foundation." A faint voice remarked. The Prince and Song Shang both turned to look. The man in black, whom they had seen before, had silently appeared on a chair, his expression utterly serene, as if he hadn't noticed the dramatic transformation of the small tavern.

"Thank you for the compliment." The Prince, possessed of keen insight, immediately knew this man in black was far from ordinary, possibly one of those legendary figures—otherwise, the peerless assassin Song Shang would not display such apprehension toward him. He paid no mind to the man's cold tone, thinking to himself that if his son were favored by such an extraordinary person, it would be a great stroke of fortune for the boy.

Unexpectedly, the man in black only glanced briefly at the 'Prince’s' son before indifferently turning away, seemingly having lost all further interest. The atmosphere in the tavern instantly became hushed.

At present, one party for the drinking contest had arrived, and the two judges were present, but the other half of the contestants was conspicuously absent. Could they be intimidated?

Young Master Jun the Assassin, of course, would never be nervous; how could one be nervous about a match one was certain to win? Yet, Young Master Jun never imagined that this seemingly trivial drinking contest, this lighthearted wager, involved individuals of such stature: a Worldly Grandmaster, a renowned Heaven Profound expert, and a Prince with his heir!

And now, these figures whose mere stomp could shake the martial world and the capital were sitting in forced patience, awaiting... Young Master Jun's arrival.

Wait once... No arrival; wait twice... Still no arrival; wait again... Still nothing... What audacity!

A flicker of annoyance crossed the minds of all three simultaneously. Even the man in black, with his supreme composure, could not help but raise an eyebrow. These three men, wherever they went, were always the ones being waited upon; they had never before had to wait for others. Yet, facing Jun Mo Xie, they were made to wait extensively.

After a long silence, the man in black’s brow lifted slightly. Two breaths later, Old Song’s face shifted. By the time the Prince noticed the movement, the sedan chair had already arrived at the mouth of the narrow alley.

Alighting from the chair at the alley entrance, Jun Mo Wu instructed the other attendants to wait there. He took only two men, each holding a wine jar, and strolled in leisurely fashion.

It wasn't that he intentionally avoided entering by sedan chair; it was simply that the tavern was in a remote location, and the alley was too narrow, barely wider than the conveyance itself. If they forced the sedan chair through, pedestrians on either side would have to stand at rigid attention beside it, leaving absolutely no room for maneuver. Even after stepping down, Young Master Jun’s gait was even more exaggeratedly swaying than when seated.

This wasn't deliberate posturing on his part; it was simply that the transportation method was incredibly jarring, surpassing even the roller coasters of his past life. How could he not sway after dismounting?

Lifting the curtain and stepping inside, Jun Mo Xie, just like the Prince, immediately took a step back, his eyes wide. After a long moment, he managed to utter a single sentence: "Old Song, is this not your wedding night?" Old Song stared back, speechless. The Prince let out a sudden "Pfft" of laughter.

Glancing around the room, Jun Mo Xie grumbled, "I thought we agreed on the afternoon? Why did you all arrive so early?"

The moment these words left his mouth, the three men glared at each other in fury! Even the man in black, with his impeccable self-control, couldn't help but widen his eyes.

To not take responsibility for being late, yet have the nerve to criticize others for arriving too early? This fellow truly had thick skin!