Walking eastward from Yanque Town for thirty or forty miles leads to the foothills of Drunk Mountain.

When Liu Zheng was a child, he often went there with his father, old Liu Head. They would either gather firewood or pick medicinal herbs; most of the time it was the latter. This was because old Liu Head was the town doctor of Yanque Town. However, a decade later, Liu Zheng did not follow in his father's footsteps; instead, he apprenticed in the Capital City and returned home as a carpenter.

It had been a very long time since he last visited that place.

The reason wasn't anything dramatic—no traumatic childhood memories, no snake bites, no falls. It was simply because the wood there was unsuitable: too soft, too damp, and full of moisture. It was great for growing medicinal herbs but poor for carpentry work.

Still, Liu Zheng remembered that as a young boy roaming the forest, if he lifted his head and looked carefully, he could faintly see a corner of Huishou Cliff. It jutted out sharply like a lotus stalk, shrouded in mist and clouds.

Liu Zheng had long stopped going to Drunk Mountain. Only old Liu Head, still working as a doctor, would occasionally make trips there to gather some herbs.

Seeing old Liu Head still venturing out to collect herbs and stubbornly continuing his role as the town doctor made Liu Zheng furious.

This anger stemmed from the beating he had received earlier that morning.

His forehead was swollen purple and blue. The man who assaulted him was a retainer of Zhao's household, surnamed Yu, a trained martial artist. He was a skilled fighter who wielded a knife by his waist while out in public, radiating imposing grandeur.

Liu Zheng had been beaten. Though he initially wanted to fight back, he restrained himself and instead offered repeated apologies.

"I carry the orders of Lord Zhao: if you can't gather fifty taels of silver within seven days, then your father will have to come pay with his life for the Black General!"

After delivering this ultimatum, Yu struck him with a heavy punch, smashing the Bodhisattva statue Liu Zheng had carved, and swaggered off.

After the retainer left, Liu Zheng spat on the ground and cursed under his breath: "Black General, Black General! Just a mangy old black dog! What kind of grand title is Black General? Even a fake official rank makes you so high and mighty! You filthy bastard born of a dog!"

It was because old Liu Head, as a doctor, had accidentally killed the Zhao family's dog that Liu Zheng was now being forced to pay fifty taels of silver. And it wasn't just the silver—they had also subjected old Liu Head to illegal punishment, beating him with thirty lashes before releasing him.

Liu Zheng remembered it vividly—the sight of his father's body, bloodied and mangled! Old Liu Head remained bedridden for nearly a month, drinking countless medicinal concoctions before regaining the strength to stand.

Looking at the shattered Bodhisattva statue, Liu Zheng's eyes welled with tears. Bitterly, he murmured:

"I carved this for the temple!"

A few days ago, the Bodhisattva statue in the nearby temple of Yanque Town had mysteriously self-destructed. No one touched it, yet it collapsed right in front of the worshippers, scaring everyone out of their wits. People spoke of it as an eerie tale.

Whether it was a strange tale or not didn't matter much to Liu Zheng. For carpenters like him, temple orders were the most profitable jobs. That's why he put so much care and effort into crafting the statue, pouring his heart into capturing that divine essence. Yet now, all his work was crushed in one single blow by Zhao's retainer Yu.

Now, Liu Zheng had been beaten, the wood wrecked, and he was unable to scrape together the critical fifty taels of silver. Left with no other options, he went out drinking.

The cheap wine burned his throat, the more he drank, the drunker and angrier he became.

In the tavern, idle chatter filled the air.

"Did you hear? In ten days or so, Lord Zhao is throwing a wedding for his son."

"Heh, his son is a piece of scum—worthless trash. Just a few months ago, he even drove a prostitute to her death."

"You mean Qianqian? Such a pity. She fell into such a life of misery, finally found someone kindhearted who could redeem her, but then that Zhao boy forced her to die."

"Keep your voice down. What if there are Zhao family people here?"

...…

The Zhao family's reputation in Yanque Town was exactly like this. Years ago, they started by smuggling illicit salt to make a fortune. Once they grew larger, rumors claim they killed and harmed the other salt smugglers they knew, transforming their operations into a legitimate business. Later, they cultivated connections to buy themselves a nominal official post in the court, rising to prominence and wealth.

Listening to the bluster and gossip around him, Liu Zheng began to entertain thoughts of white knives going in and red knives coming out.

Fifty taels of silver—a huge, unattainable amount. Even if they sold off all their possessions, they could barely scrape together forty taels. He imagined what would likely happen: the Zhao family would beat him viciously again, relent slightly out of magnanimity, lend him several dozen taels, have him sign a loan agreement, and trap him in endless debt through compounding interest...

What did it matter? He hadn't started his own family yet, and there was only old Liu Head at home to be concerned about. If the opportunity arose to stab someone during the wedding festivities—to let white knives go in and red knives come out—why shouldn't he?!

Fury filled Liu Zheng's chest as these thoughts churned in his mind.

When he stumbled home, drunk and troubled, images flickered chaotically through his mind.

As he crossed the threshold, ready to shout for old Liu Head, he froze in place.

A young man he'd never seen before was wandering leisurely around his house, holding a bowl of thin congee. The stranger's features were striking—handsome and refined in a way reminiscent of a pampered gentleman.

Driven by drunkenness, Liu Zheng bellowed in anger:

"Where did this bastard come from? Are you here to steal my wife?!"

The young man stopped where he stood, glanced quizzically into the house, and then replied, "You don't even have a wife."

Liu Zheng snapped back to his senses, confused and muttered, "Oh right, I don't have a wife for you to steal."

"Exactly."

"Then wait until I get married before you go stealing one." Liu Zheng scratched his head, thoroughly drunk, before finally focusing on the real issue. He turned his head abruptly and said, "Wait, who are you, and why are you in my house?"

Surely it couldn't be someone trying to steal the old man?!

Bah, what ridiculous thoughts was he having!

At that moment, old Liu Head heard the commotion and appeared, leaning on his cane.

His weathered face creased slightly, and he slowly explained:

"This young man here—I found him in the mountains. He didn't look well, so I brought him back to recover…"

After a round of explanations, Liu Zheng finally understood the situation.

Old Liu Head, whose health had been improving somewhat, had gone to Drunk Mountain to collect herbs. There, he had stumbled upon this slightly disheveled youth, who seemed lost in the forest and whose complexion was as pale as death itself.

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