After sharing another bowl, everyone relaxed. They were perceptive enough to see Thirteen Niang’s clear favor towards Li Muchen and gave up any pretense, starting to laugh and joke.

Xiong Sihai chuckled, "Thirteen Niang, this Great Monk wants to buy a residence in the city. Do you know of any good ones?"

"Oh?" Thirteen Niang glanced at Li Muchen, pursed her lips, and smiled, "Where are you thinking of buying? It's quite convenient; I actually have a residence to the east I'm considering selling."

"How much would that be?" Xiong Sihai asked.

Thirteen Niang replied, "I haven't asked precisely, but I estimate five or six thousand taels."

"Hmm... seems the house isn't very large then," Xiong Sihai observed.

"That's right, not very big," Thirteen Niang nodded.

Xiong Sihai looked towards Li Muchen. Li Muchen smiled, "If it's too small, it won't do. We have too many people; it would be too uncomfortable living cramped. Let's forget it then."

Zhao Shengli quickly urged, "Wait, wait, let's go take a look first, and we can decide later if it doesn't work."

Without waiting for Li Muchen to speak, he declared, "Let's finish eating quickly, and then we'll go see the residence."

Thirteen Niang smiled, "Very well, I'll lead the way for everyone."

Li Muchen looked helplessly at Zhao Shengli. Zhao Shengli ignored him, picked up his bowl, and urged everyone to take another helping. In a short while, everyone had drunk four bowls.

This Winter Snow Brew was potent—fragrant to smell, sharp to taste, and immensely spirited.

Those with lighter tolerance, like Little Cai, had faces flush red like they were covered in scarlet cloth after just four bowls. The others remained unmoved; their capacity for drink was exceedingly robust.

The dishes arrived quickly, flowing like a stream; twelve dishes were soon set down, filling the room with aroma. Everyone began eating with increased fervor, making the atmosphere even livelier.

Thirteen Niang ate along with the others, her movements elegant and graceful. With her present, the atmosphere in the room felt somewhat intoxicating; though everyone knew of her regard for Li Muchen, they felt comfortable regardless.

As they were talking, there was a sudden knock at the door. The po-po sound was subdued beneath their chatter, slow and mellow, distinct from a normal knock.

Li Muchen slightly narrowed his eyes, looking through his Void Eye. Outside stood a large man, powerfully built, with a fierce glint in his eyes, possessing considerable cultivation.

Li Baolu stepped forward to unbolt the door and saw the large man standing outside. He asked gruffly, "What is it?"

The big man had a round face and a thick, full beard. He cupped his fists and said, "Is this where the officers of the Cavalry Battalion are lodging?"

Li Baolu nodded and asked roughly, "Yes, who are you?"

The big man smiled slightly, "I am the Head Escort of the Fan Family Escort Agency. My young mistress wishes to pay a call to Master Mingkong of the Cavalry Battalion. I apologize for the intrusion."

Li Baolu turned and asked, "Monk, the Fan Family young mistress wants to see you."

Everyone looked towards Li Muchen. Li Muchen said, "Please invite Miss Fan to come in."

The big man nodded to everyone, turned, and left. His bearing was composed, his presence clearly unusual.

Zhao Shengli chuckled, "Monk, you have excellent luck with the ladies. Tell us, how did you become acquainted with the Fan Family's Eldest Miss?"

Li Muchen smiled and pointed to Li Baolu, "Lizi knows the story."

Li Baolu recounted the events, and the others clicked their tongues in admiration, understanding dawning on them.

Footsteps approached. The Fan Family Eldest Miss arrived at the doorway, surrounded by her retinue. She paused to glance inside, her delicate eyebrows furrowing slightly before returning to normal. Then, stepping inside with her sturdy boots, she cupped her hands, saying, "This humble girl, Fan Peiyao, greets several of the military gentlemen."

Everyone returned the salute in turn; the scene was quite lively.

Most of them were seeing Fan Peiyao for the first time. Previously, she had worn men's attire, merely appearing handsome; now, in her proper female dress—a light pink fitted outfit—she was as beautiful as a blooming flower.

Her entrance brightened the room again, rivaling Thirteen Niang, both radiating breathtaking beauty.

Li Muchen cupped his hands, "Miss Fan, there is no need for such formality. Please, have a seat."

Li Baolu quickly fetched a chair and placed it next to Li Muchen.

Fan Peiyao remained standing, smiling slightly. "I heard the military gentlemen were here and came specifically to visit, to personally thank Master Mingkong... Waiter, bring a bowl!"

The waiter responded from afar and quickly brought a large bowl, setting it carefully on the table before quietly retreating, stealing a few glances toward Li Muchen.

Li Muchen smiled, "Miss Fan, there’s no need for such ceremony. It was merely my duty... To make such a grand gesture, I feel undeserving."

Of the accompanying servants, only the round-faced big man followed inside. He filled the large bowl and brought it before Fan Peiyao. She accepted it, holding it with both hands, "Master Mingkong, I offer this bowl to you as a small token of my gratitude."

With that, she lifted the large bowl, tilted her long, graceful, pale neck, and downed it in one gulp.

The Winter Snow Brew trickled down past her lips, flowing into the rise of her proud **. The onlookers stared, stunned. Li Muchen let out a light cough, and they jolted back to their senses, quickly averting their gazes.

Fan Peiyao’s appearance was exquisite, her temperament as pure as a lotus flower, but her figure was exceptionally provocative, creating a lethal **. Having been confined to the military camp for so long, they hadn't seen a woman, let alone such a beauty, and their composure shattered.

The round-faced big man frowned slightly, displeased, secretly annoyed by the officers' perceived frivolity and lustfulness.

Li Muchen also picked up a large bowl and drank it down in one go, laughing, "The reputation of a heroic woman is indeed well-deserved. Your forthright manner in drinking earns my profound respect."

Fan Peiyao’s delicate face flushed crimson, like rouge freshly applied, exquisitely tempting. She smiled faintly, "This meal is my treat today... Guards!"

She clapped her hands, and a thin man entered from outside, carrying a small, exquisite mahogany box, about half the size of a physician's medical kit.

"For Master Mingkong," Fan Peiyao extended her hand.

The thin man acknowledged the order, approached Li Muchen, placed the mahogany box down, and cupped his hands, "Master, please accept this."

Li Muchen smiled, "What is this?"

Fan Peiyao cupped her hands and gave a charming smile, "A small token, nothing worthy of note... This amount of silver is a small expression of goodwill from our Escort Agency; I hope Master will not consider it base."

"Monk, shall I open it to see?" Li Baolu asked quickly.

Li Muchen nodded. Li Baolu immediately stepped forward and opened the wooden box. A dazzling golden light erupted, startling Li Baolu into exclaiming, "Gold!"

Li Muchen smiled and shook his head, "Miss Fan, you are too kind. I dare not accept."

Fan Peiyao insisted, "Master, please do not refuse... This may seem like a trivial matter to you, but to my Fan family, it concerns our very survival. If we offered no token of thanks, we would feel uneasy."

Zhao Shengli quickly chimed in, "That's right, Monk, you should accept it, don't disappoint their good intentions."

"The money cannot be accepted," Li Muchen smiled and shook his head. "How about this: Miss Fan, please take a seat, and let us enjoy this meal together. After the meal, we will be quits, how does that sound?"

Fan Peiyao frowned and shook her head, "No, the silver must be accepted."

Li Muchen lightly tapped his toes, closed the wooden box, and smiled, saying no more.

Seeing this, Thirteen Niang pursed her lips and smiled, "Miss Fan, the Little Master intends to buy a residence in the city. Why don't you gift him one, Miss?"

"Oh?" Fan Peiyao's bright eyes turned towards her.

Li Muchen smiled, "That's even less acceptable. I will buy my own residence; one given by others is not proper."

Li Muchen truly did not wish to become entangled with the Fan family. The key issue was that the Fan family were honored guests of the Provincial Governor, and the Governor and the military were natural adversaries. If he became linked to the Fan family, it would be tantamount to seeking his own demise. Furthermore, judging by the Fan family's imposing and haughty demeanor, he had no desire to become close.

"You little monk, you truly don't know what's good for you!" Suddenly, a large man shouted from the doorway, his voice like a great bell, echoing throughout the entire Changping Tower.

Li Muchen frowned and turned to look. Zhao Shengli sprang up and roared, "Which scoundrel is spewing filth outside!"

"Insolent!" Amidst the angry roar, a streak of dark light shot towards Zhao Shengli's face.

Li Muchen flicked out a chopstick; with a sharp pa sound, the dark light was intercepted. It turned out to be a chopstick, which fell onto the table and shattered into several pieces.

Li Muchen’s expression darkened as he looked outside.

Fan Peiyao’s face also changed. She stamped her foot and turned to chide sweetly, "Uncle Zhao Three—"

A thin middle-aged man entered. He was not tall, with a pointed face, a sharp chin, and small eyes deeply set in their sockets, gleaming with a chilling light that was captivatingly intimidating.

He strode in proudly, stopping beside Fan Peiyao. His small eyes swept over the group, radiating cold light, causing the gazes of the others to retract sharply; they dared not look directly at him. Although they had seen battle and possessed considerable killing intent, they instinctively avoided his gaze—it was truly piercing, as if real blades were stabbing into their eyes.

Li Muchen's eyebrows lifted slightly as he calmly observed the thin middle-aged man.

The middle-aged man glared, projecting cold light toward Li Muchen: "This young lady of high status deigns to show you favor and offer you money, yet you give no face at all. What astonishing arrogance!"

Li Muchen smiled faintly, "And what great arrogance you possess."

He glanced at the group and shook his head, "Today I have truly witnessed the might of the Fan Family Escort Agency. As expected of the foremost in Tianlong City, your domineering presence is remarkable. I am impressed."

The corners of his mouth curved into an almost-smile as he watched the middle-aged man, the sarcasm thick in his tone.

"Little monk, are you courting death?" the middle-aged man said coldly.

Li Muchen chuckled, "Then Sir intends to fulfill my wish?"

The thin middle-aged man squinted at him and sneered, "I heard that you, little monk, saved someone from the Black Hawk Riders—a feat spread like wildfire. I don't believe it. Come, let us spar a bit."

Li Muchen waved his hand, "I only strike to kill enemies; I do not engage in contests with individuals."

Zhao Shengli snorted, "Monk, why waste words with such an ungrateful wretch? Just kill him!" He was extremely angry; if the Monk hadn't intervened just now, that chopstick would have pierced his skull, ending his life. It was infuriating!

"What great audacity," the thin middle-aged man sneered, glancing at Zhao Shengli. "A mere private like you—I could slaughter you like a chicken. What business do you have acting like a big shot here?"

"Uncle Zhao Three, please stop talking!" Fan Peiyao was dumbfounded and finally reacted. She hurried to pull his arm, trying to push him out.

The thin middle-aged man spoke in a gentle tone, "Eldest Miss, don't push me. We shouldn't give these brutes any pleasantries... Relying on offering a little help and then putting on airs—hmph, giving face and not knowing what’s good for you!"

Li Muchen’s face darkened, his brow tightly knit. He suddenly flung a chopstick.

"Hiss!" With a sharp whistle, a dark streak flashed past and was gone.

"Ugh..." The thin middle-aged man paused, looked down, and saw his left hand pierced by a chopstick. A surge of pain flooded his mind, and he let out a muffled groan.

Li Muchen said calmly, "Waiter, bring me a pair of chopsticks."

"Coming!" the waiter called out loudly. He quickly approached the doorway and, seeing the tense atmosphere—swords drawn, ready to strike, the air thick with gunpowder—he slowed his steps, crept inside, set down the chopsticks, and immediately turned to leave, not daring to linger. He feared if he stayed any longer, and a fight truly broke out, he might suffer collateral damage. He sighed inwardly; these soldiers were never quiet. This was his third visit, and they had already fought twice. This time looked like another fight was imminent; that room had already been repaired twice.

Li Muchen placed the remaining chopstick down, picked up the new pair, used them to pick up a piece of beef, and slowly chewed it while calmly watching the middle-aged man.

The middle-aged man stared fiercely at Li Muchen. He violently yanked the chopstick from his right hand. Blood poured out like a spring, dripping incessantly onto the floor, the sound clearly audible. He continued to stare fixedly at Li Muchen, ignoring his hand, letting the blood stream onto the ground.

Li Muchen gave a faint smile, picked up another piece of beef, and slowly chewed it, his demeanor relaxed, as if he hadn't noticed the other man at all.

"Uncle Zhao Three!" Fan Peiyao stamped her foot, quickly tapped his shoulder and wrist, pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve, and pressed it to the back of his hand. The round-faced man beside her pulled out a porcelain vial and sprinkled some powder on the wound.

The middle-aged man allowed them to fuss over him, paying them no mind, focusing only on glaring at Li Muchen.

Li Muchen took a sip of wine, set down the large bowl, and said, "This chopstick you threw, compared to this chopstick I used—which one was superior? ...I suppose this counts as a spar?"

The middle-aged man sneered, "What skill is there in a sneak attack?"

"A sneak attack is also a skill," Li Muchen shook his head. "I am a soldier. In marching and warfare, the orthodox and the unorthodox must complement each other. How could I not employ a sneak attack?"

"Twisting logic," the middle-aged man sneered, his voice heavy. "If you want to spar, let's compare sword techniques."

Li Muchen smiled and shook his head, "I dare not. Your Fan family is too formidable. Such a response for a small favor I rendered—if I truly sparred with you, I would tarnish the Fan family's reputation. Could I still live? ...We still need to eat and drink. If there is nothing else, Miss Fan, perhaps you should take your leave."

"You..." Fan Peiyao frowned.

Although Uncle Zhao Three was clearly in the wrong, he only had a sharp tongue and no malice. Mingkong speaking like this was excessive; he was slandering the Fan family. She could tolerate criticism aimed at herself, but not slander against her family.

Li Muchen turned his face and smiled at Thirteen Niang, "Thirteen Niang, this meal is turning tasteless. Why don't we go look at the residences? What do you say?"

Thirteen Niang smiled charmingly, glancing at Fan Peiyao, "That sounds lovely."

Li Muchen turned around, "Head Zhao, let's go look for a residence first. If we manage to buy one, we can eat in our own home and avoid having our enjoyment disturbed by others."

"Nothing could be better," Zhao Shengli nodded, springing to his feet.

Li Muchen rose and started walking towards the exit. Fan Peiyao remained still, as did the round-faced man behind her, and the thin middle-aged man. They were blocking the doorway.