Chapter 8 0008: Drink the Wine I Offered You

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“Is Aunt Chu’s illness any better?” As he sipped his drink, Mo Yu asked with concern about Chu’s mother.

Chu Yun nodded. “She’ll get better. I’ll find a way to get the medicine.”

Mo Yu sighed.

Get the medicine? Easier said than done. Which master alchemist would bother to research such a drug? For them, refining body-strengthening elixirs was the true priority.

In this era where everyone trained in martial arts, those unable to survive the legacy viruses from the previous age weren’t worthy of living. Only the next generation, who honed their bodies to resist viral attacks, had the right to survive.

Serums for these viruses certainly made money, but their clientele was just ordinary folk. The proud master alchemists had no interest in serving such people; currying favor with the powerful families was what mattered.

That’s why these medicines were so rare—whenever they appeared, they were snatched up in an instant.

At that moment, a group approached their booth. Among them were Senior Gao and his two friends who had left earlier, but this time, there were two others.

Chu Yun looked up, a flash of murderous intent crossing his face.

Because the newcomer was none other than the culprit who had humiliated and beaten Chu Yun the other day—Senior Fan.

Mo Yu saw Senior Gao had brought Fan along, and nervously stood up. Senior Gao smiled, “Didn’t you want me to come sit? I brought Old Fan with me. You said he bullied Chu Yun, right? So, explain what happened.”

“Bullied?” Senior Fan scoffed, looking down at Chu Yun intimidatingly. “When did I ever bully you? You’d better clarify your words and not tarnish my reputation. Am I the sort who likes picking on trash?”

Ignoring Chu Yun, he turned to Mo Yu and demanded, “You called Gao here to stand up for your friend?”

Mo Yu was momentarily speechless, a little frightened.

If he weren’t scared, he wouldn’t have needed Senior Gao to intervene. He hadn’t expected Fan Zhiming to be here, either; it felt absurd, like having the accused walk in as you were lodging your complaint.

“Cat got your tongue?” Fan Zhiming saw Mo Yu’s evasive gaze and snorted, warning, “Know your place. I can’t touch you inside the academy, but outside? You’d better ask your parents if they’ll let you run wild!”

He then lowered his gaze to the remaining ten bottles on the table, addressing Mo Yu, “You messed up, so own up to it. I won’t make things hard for you. I hate snitches without strength. Here’s the deal: you chug these five bottles, and I’ll call it my treat.”

Mo Yu hesitated.

One of Fan Zhiming’s companions snickered, “What, you won’t show Senior Fan some respect?”

Then Chu Yun spoke up.

“Since I’ve offended Senior Fan, let me offer you a drink to apologize.”

Mo Yu’s face changed instantly, giving Chu Yun a warning look—was he really going to stir things up at a time like this? He was anxious.

Senior Fan and Senior Gao’s group were taken aback by Chu Yun’s words, glancing at him as if doubting their ears.

“What did you say?” Fan Zhiming stared at Chu Yun in disbelief. “You want to buy me a drink? Do you even have money? Your mother’s about to die in the hospital because you’re broke, and you still have money to treat me?”

“Let him treat us,” one of Fan Zhiming’s friends interrupted, smiling. “I’ve always wanted to try the fine dwarven wine from the continent across the sea. I hear it costs tens of thousands of gold coins a bottle. How about it?”

“Great idea!” Fan Zhiming’s interest was piqued. “How about each of us gets a bottle?”

Chu Yun stood up then, his stature matching theirs, and addressed the group, “Drinking with me isn’t about what you want to drink, but what I offer you!”

He pulled five bottles from the crate and stacked them with the previous five, then said to Fan Zhiming, “You chug these ten bottles, and I’ll treat you!”

The seniors’ faces grew tense.

“Repeat that?” Fan Zhiming brought his face close to Chu Yun’s, the two locked in a bull-like standoff, his aura abruptly rising to pressure Chu Yun.

“Chug all ten bottles, and I’ll let you off for today,” Chu Yun replied, unfazed by the proximity.

Fan Zhiming’s stiff expression suddenly broke into a laugh. He turned to Mo Yu, “See? I told you this guy’s brain is messed up. I don’t want to punish him today, but you—I’ll hold you accountable. Do you see what your friend is doing?”

Mo Yu’s face was troubled; he reached for a bottle, ready to chug.

But Chu Yun grabbed his wrist, and before Mo Yu could lift the bottle, Chu Yun snatched one up and smashed it over Fan Zhiming’s head.

With a loud crack, the cacophony of the bar’s music drowned out the sound of breaking glass.

Senior Gao and the others were stunned, as was Fan Zhiming himself.

It wasn’t the pain that surprised him, but the fact that Chu Yun acted before he could react. By rights, Chu Yun’s skill and speed shouldn’t have outpaced his own reflexes, yet he’d been blindsided—his body hadn’t even warned him!

Seeing his friends’ shocked faces, Fan Zhiming’s humiliation turned to rage. He lashed out with a kick at Chu Yun.

Chu Yun met it with a punch, sending Fan Zhiming rolling off the booth’s steps.

Fan Zhiming quickly regained his footing and charged back, swinging a fist at Chu Yun.

Chu Yun calmly caught the punch, then executed a smooth over-the-shoulder throw, slamming Fan Zhiming onto the table, which shattered beneath him.

One of Fan Zhiming’s companions lunged, but before he could strike, Chu Yun kicked him in the stomach, sending him crashing into the booth’s railing.

The bar’s security, always watching the monitors, immediately rushed over to intervene.

“Stop it, all of you!”

The security staff separated everyone and, seeing the troublemakers were students from the City Martial Academy, decided not to push too hard. They said to Chu Yun, “If you want to fight, take it outside, or settle your grievances beyond the city. Don’t cause trouble here. I’m warning you—don’t let it happen again!”

Chu Yun nodded, then looked at Fan Zhiming. “You have three options: one, go cry to your parents that you were beaten by someone younger. Two, settle it with me outside in a duel. Three, finish the drinks I offered you.”

Fan Zhiming’s face, twisted with pain, was now further contorted with humiliation.

The music was cut off, and everyone in the bar was watching him.