CHAPTER 561: CHAPTER 232: BU HUORAN’S JADE! FELLOW DAOIST FENG’S SORROW! (SEEKING MONTHLY PASS)_5

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In a private room of the tavern, Yuchi looked slightly awkwardly at the man in front of him.

After Huo Yuluo finished speaking earlier, Yuchi was about to return with his disciples to their residence for a meal. Since it wasn’t often he got to visit Immortal Island, he might as well eat his fill.

At the same time, considering that he was now a Cultivator at the Core Formation Stage, eating more local seafood seemed like a good idea. Despite the massive purine content in seafood hotpots, it was unlikely that a cultivator like him would suffer a purine overload, right?

The seafood in this area was truly fresh. Immortal Island didn’t lack this stuff, which also made Yuchi feel like he was reeking of seafood these past couple of days.

But on the way back, Yuchi was intercepted by the man in front of him, a completely unfamiliar middle-aged man. The man wasn’t wearing a mask, and he looked worried, not at all like the Sect Leader of a legendary sect!

Yes, the man was named Feng Zhaoyang, the Sect Leader of the legendary sect, whose cultivation had likely surpassed the Golden Core Stage and entered the Spirit Storage Stage, where he would be nurturing a small spirit being within him. Surpassing the Spirit Storage Stage leads to the legendary Nascent Soul!

So for the small-time Yuchi, he had no idea why this big shot at the Spirit Storage Stage was looking for him. The man looked as if he were begging Yuchi to repay a debt, but honestly, Yuchi didn’t even know this big shot. Why would such an esteemed Sect Leader look so worn-out? Has he been heartbroken?

Yuchi didn’t understand.

With a bitter smile, Feng Zhaoyang initiated the conversation saying, "Fellow Daoist, I suddenly reached out to you because I’ve been feeling incredibly restless lately and just wanted to find a friend to have a heartfelt conversation. If you have other things to attend to, I truly apologize for the interruption."

Looking for a friend to talk to? Could it be there’s not a single person in Feng Zhaoyang’s legendary sect that he could confide in? Yuchi thought of recent gossip, about how Feng Zhaoyang supposedly got ’brainwashed,’ but he didn’t pay it any mind. It couldn’t possibly be true, right?

"No problem, after the disciple competition is over, there’s plenty of time for such things," Yuchi replied with a friendly smile.

"Thank you, Fellow Daoist."

Feng Zhaoyang’s logic was simple; since Yuchi had disciples at the Golden Core Stage, he himself must be at the Spirit Storage Stage. They were both nurturing a spiritual embodiment within, waiting for it to mature, granting them a second life.

Thus, cultivators at the same stage under one roof had nothing to hide from each other. Having seen a lot throughout their cultivation journey, they would choose to speak honestly with one another.

Feng Zhaoyang then produced an elegant wine flask and two small cups from the space within his sleeve. These small cups, barely larger than a thumb, were specifically for savoring fine wine.

Could this really be some good wine?

What kind of drink would the other party bring out? Luckily, Yuchi wasn’t a minor anymore, having grown up, and naturally, he was curious about what good stuff Feng Zhaoyang had to offer.

"Fellow Daoist Feng, your drink wouldn’t happen to be brewed by a fox you once saved, would it?" Yuchi suddenly asked.

"Ah? No, this was brewed by my daughter," Feng Zhaoyang replied, not quite understanding Yuchi’s question.

"As long as it’s not, I read some quirky records that mentioned something about foxes. I’m actually allergic to foxes, and generally, I don’t enjoy drinking congee."

"! Then why do you wear that little fox mask? Are you trying to act cute?!" Feng Zhaoyang blurted out, unable to resist.

"Hahaha."

Naturally, the mask came off, revealing a handsome young face before Feng Zhaoyang.

"So young," Feng Zhaoyang couldn’t help but comment.

"I’m thirteen hundred years old, not that young anymore," Yuchi said, stroking an imaginary beard.

"Haha, Fellow Daoist, in that case, you’re younger than me. I’m eighteen hundred years old this year!" Feng Zhaoyang confessed without reservation.

"Eighteen hundred... I’m eighteen. This guy is a hundred times my age?"

Yuchi sighed.

Feng Zhaoyang, while lifting the flask and pouring wine, explained with a smile, "This wine was brewed by my daughter. It contains countless treasures and great ingredients inside, practically offering unparalleled benefits for men."

"Oh, that sounds impressive. Let me give it a try."

Yuchi took a small sip. It tasted odd at first, like a drenched chicken on a rainy day, with an unbearably strong flavor. But if you force yourself to swallow it a bit, it unexpectedly becomes an acquired taste, much like stinky tofu.

He enjoyed it thoroughly, while to others it might seem like he was eating something unspeakable...

Bizarre but fragrant.

"Ah, wine is still the best," Feng Zhaoyang said, squinting with pleasure as if all his troubles had vanished.

"Ah, wine is still the best," Yuchi echoed meaningfully.