"One million taels of silver, and a ten percent stake," Jun Moxie said with an inscrutable smile, "Very well, seeing as I find you agreeable, I shall let you have the better of this bargain." A Prince, the Emperor's own brother, offering a million taels merely for a tenth share of wine that hadn't even begun selling—and this man still felt deeply aggrieved by the supposed loss!

Jun Moxie chuckled, lowering his head toward Little Yang. "Little girl, from this day forward, you are a shareholder in my wine. We are partners!" "...I am truly a man!" the little fellow shrieked, utterly incensed, nearly biting him.

"We can discuss that matter later. Proving my gender can wait; I will have Song Shang notify everyone about the auction. Right now, I have urgent business and must return home." Jun Moxie wisely chose to make a swift exit.

A Prince of the Empire arranging a future path for his son, outside of direct Imperial involvement, was not only an extraordinarily weighty topic but also one brimming with peril. Since Prince Yang Huainong had spoken those words, he clearly intended to hold nothing back. Yet, anyone overhearing his counsel ran the immediate risk of being dragged into the ensuing maelstrom. Even Song Shang, a powerhouse of the Tianxuan realm, was no exception; as for Jun Moxie, whose current strength was far inferior, retreat was the only sensible course.

Of course, this affair held little consequence for Ying Bokong, the Divine Profound Sovereign at the apex of power. Experts of the Sovereign level inherently stood above Imperial authority. While Prince Yang's actions that day might shock the vast majority of the world, they certainly would not faze someone of Ying Bokong’s stature.

Truthfully, Young Master Jun didn't truly care that much about the offer from Prince Pingdeng. Partnering with this little child was, at best, a casual agreement made in passing. If they saw eye-to-eye, helping this child out in a pinch, or even saving his life, would be a mere flick of his wrist.

"Master, do you not wish for your disciple to attend you?" Song Shang inquired respectfully, his tone and gaze brimming with yearning.

"All laws under heaven return to the same destination; the Martial Dao is boundless, and is the Way of Wine any different? You believe this wine to be the absolute zenith, the finest of its kind, yet you do not realize these are merely two jars I casually took out. To me, this wine flows as easily as water, but it cannot yet be called a masterpiece."

Jun Moxie let out a dry laugh. "Song Shang, you... even if your identity is exposed, are you truly willing to leave?" Jun Moxie spoke truly; at this moment, even with his identity revealed, Song Shang would never depart. How to brew such celestial-grade fine wine—this had become Song Shang’s lifelong pursuit, and now it was within his grasp. At this juncture, why would Song Shang leave? Not even a thousand cuts and a thousand deaths could make him go!

With that said, Jun Moxie bowed toward Ying Bokong and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Ying Bokong boomed solemnly. "...Boy, after you've used me, you think you can just walk away without a word? Do you know how difficult it is to settle a debt with me!" "Old man, do you know how difficult it is to collect a debt from me? I have never seen anyone successfully collect a debt from my hands, especially an undocumented one like this." Jun Moxie smiled at him. "Those who try to collect from me often end up owing me, or owing me even more. Old man, care to try?" "Nonsense!" Ying Bokong cursed, though a flicker of amusement danced in his eyes. "Trying to play tricks on this old fellow, you're still too green. One way or another, you will repay me!" "Fine. Try finding me after today," Jun Moxie's gaze flickered, and he laughed heartily as he strode away. "If you can't find me, then let me keep owing you, hah!" "To remain so composed even after learning my identity, while possessing such low cultivation—you are the first," the Prince murmured, admiration shining in his eyes as he watched Jun Moxie's carefree departure. "This child is certainly no ordinary person! My entrustment today was truly not in vain!" "To treat me like this even after knowing who I am—you are truly the first!" Ying Bokong felt a strange annoyance in his heart. He had clearly deduced the identities of all three of them, yet he still maintained some ridiculous pretense of mystery, marching off with feigned nonchalance. How pretentious!

By now, Ying Bokong was certain that the boy had guessed his identity long ago; otherwise, none of his words to him would have been so pointed. Yet, knowing it did not actually make Ying Bokong angry.

I know perfectly well he’s flattering me, but it just sounds good to my ears! So what?

"Hold it! What are you trying to do?" The Prince leaped forward, blocking Song Shang, glaring with blazing fury. "You are that boy's disciple now. Didn't you hear him say those were just two jars he casually took out? Doesn't that mean he can produce as much of this wine as he wants? Furthermore, he’s planning an auction—how much will that be? You've already latched onto the biggest opportunity, and you're still eyeing these two opened jars?!" That's too much! That rascal Song Laosan actually tried to sneak away with Jun Moxie's two jars! Think you can escape?

"What if those are the only two jars he has? You’re just the referee, I’m the contestant—on what grounds are you taking the wine?" Song Shang retorted, arguing logically, even referring to his Master as "he" in the heat of competition for ownership of those two jars.

"The referee is the one qualified to drink. Have you an objection?!" Ying Bokong snatched the jars from Song Shang’s grasp without further courtesy. "The competition is over. You are the tavern owner now; hurry up and prepare some side dishes to go with our drinks!" Under Ying Bokong's might, Song Shang dared not speak out in anger, turning sullenly back inside. Ying Bokong and the Prince exchanged a look and a smile, both immediately grabbing their wine cups. The Prince couldn't help but muse that having absolute power was wonderful. All insidious trickery became laughable in the face of undeniable strength; today had truly been an eye-opener!

Around a distant corner from the small tavern, a woman clad entirely in black, her face masked, stood with her robes whipping wildly in the wind. Behind the veil, a pair of bright eyes shimmered with enraged light.

Jun Moxie, the immense humiliation you have forced upon me! Today, you will repay it with your life! Never mind that Jun Zhantian supports you; even if all Eight Great Sovereigns stood behind you, your death tonight is inevitable!

"...Miss, it's about to rain; you should take shelter below," a masked figure in black quietly approached her from behind.

"No! I will watch until Jun Moxie’s flesh turns to mud and his bones to ash, only then will the anger in my heart subside!" the black-clad woman stood still, her voice chilling like shards of ice.

"Before dark, Jun Moxie must return to the Jun family estate for the ancestral banquet—this is information we worked hard to obtain. We must seize this opportunity!" "Yes!" It was not yet dark, but thick sheets of dark clouds were piling up, seeming to press the heavens lower, causing the daylight to dim. Threads of silver light danced within the clouds, and the autumn wind whistled down from above, carrying piercing, mournful shrieks.

Under such foul weather, pedestrians had almost vanished from the streets. The emptiness, coupled with the mournful wind's howl, created an almost ghostly ambiance.

There was still an hour left before the time Jun Wuyi had set for his return! An ancestral banquet? Jun Moxie was genuinely interested in meeting these relatives of his, which was the main reason he left the tavern.

"Why does everything feel so wrong?" Jun Moxie mused as he traveled back, sitting in his sedan chair, a sudden, restless feeling unsettling him. He had just won a great victory, acquired a Tianxuan powerhouse as a follower, yet why did he feel no excitement at all, but rather profoundly uneasy? This feeling was entirely out of character!

When was the last time he felt this "disordered six thoughts"?

This feeling was truly wrong. As the thought crossed his mind, the furrow in Jun Moxie’s brow suddenly lifted, replaced by an instinctive chill running down his spine! He rarely experienced this strange sensation, in this life or the previous one, but every time it surfaced without reason, it invariably preceded a major danger! And this uncomfortable feeling had saved him from several mortal perils!

Could it be that some threat capable of ending his life was now closing in?

Suddenly, a profound coldness swept over Jun Moxie. Instinctively, he flattened himself backward in the sedan chair, his entire form seeming to dissolve into a sheet of paper, clinging to the inside of the carriage.

Swish-swish-swish! A dense sound of tearing air erupted without warning, raining down upon the solitary sedan chair traveling down the street from all directions. Arrows, iron pellets, throwing knives—countless hidden weapons assaulted them like a torrential storm about to break! More dense than pouring rain!

BOOM! A short-handled hammer connected to a chain smashed directly through the sedan's canopy.

Jun Moxie’s eight escorts were all considered experts from the Jun family, reacting with lightning speed. Since all the projectiles targeted Jun Moxie in the carriage, only two men were caught off guard, letting out muffled groans as they sustained injuries. The others instantly sensed the danger, drawing their weapons. Clang, clang, bang! They knocked the incoming projectiles to the ground.

"Protect the Young Master!" a fierce shout commanded. The eight men formed a tight circle around the sedan. The two injured men—one with an arrow in his shoulder, the other with a dart in his leg—though pale with pain, did not dare utter a sound of complaint.

After this exceptionally dense volley of hidden weapons, a sudden silence descended. Apart from the whistling wind, no other sound remained in the vicinity.

Jun Moxie’s heart sank: Assassins! And not just any, but a well-trained, organized, and battle-experienced assassin group!

The leading guard captain barked urgent orders: "Currently, they are hidden, and we are exposed. We must break through! You two, take care of the Young Master; if things look bad, shield him and retreat first! You two, cover the rear; the four of us will support in the center. We must ensure the Young Master's safety!" All men acknowledged the orders solemnly.

"No need to cover the rear! We move out together!" Jun Moxie’s voice came from within the carriage.

"Their numbers are clearly greater than ours. That last attack alone included at least dozens of arrows, plus darts, throwing knives, iron pellets, sleeve darts, throwing hammers, ring blades, flying forks, and poisoned darts. Their coordination, both close and long-range, was excellent, as was their crossfire pattern. They are highly organized. Against such an enemy, covering the rear is useless; scattering our force will only accelerate our demise. Our only chance lies in a direct charge. Jun Hu, check—is the corner ten zhang ahead?" Jun Moxie lay still, speaking rapidly through the carriage curtain. Given his own abilities, escaping wouldn't be difficult, but these eight bodyguards presented a major challenge.