CHAPTER 120: CHAPTER 78: LIN DAIYU FALLS FROM THE SKY_1

The rain kept falling.

Due to its proximity to the desert, the climate of Beifeng Prefecture was predominantly dry. Unlike other places where the heavens often seemed to suffer from frequent, urgent, and incomplete urination, the heavens over Beifeng Prefecture were even worse—they seemed unable to urinate at all.

Often, dark clouds and north winds would gather, teasing and tantalizing, rubbing one raw with anticipation, yet still, it was all thunder and no rain.

So, when this downpour finally arrived, it felt hard-earned and thoroughly refreshing.

At least, to Blind Bei, this was the heaviest rain he had witnessed since arriving in this world over half a year ago.

On the balcony of Mei Village’s main building, Blind Bei sat at a table. In front of him, a small red clay stove warmed a pot of wine.

A lantern with a red paper shade also rested on the table, casting a dim, reddish glow upon the second-floor balcony amidst the night and the curtain of rain.

Combined with the sound of the erhu Blind Bei was playing, a thick atmosphere reminiscent of the *Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio* almost seemed to drip from the air.

It felt as if, under the pitch-black night sky, countless fox demons with yearning hearts were on the verge of bursting forth to enact a moving, age-old love story.

"Green ant new-brewed wine, a small red clay stove. The evening sky brings rain; won’t you have a cup?"

The heavy thud of Wenter’s boots on the stairs shattered Blind Bei’s mood for playing the erhu.

His distinctly foreign, "translation-like" accent sounded even more jarring when he recited poetry.

In later times, speaking Mandarin, singing a reasonably fluent Chinese song, and capping it off with "I love China" would earn countless touched reactions and likes.

But Blind Bei was clearly not among those who would be moved; he even felt some aversion towards this illegitimate son of a Roman nobleman.

Because whether Wenter began with, "Nice weather today," or, "I’m a bit constipated today," he always managed to steer the conversation toward, "Shall we go play the piano?"

Sighing, Blind Bei put down his erhu.

Receiving no response, Wenter felt a bit awkward but still walked over to the table and sat down.

Then, as if it were the most natural thing to do, he picked up a wine bowl from the table, carefully lifted the wine pot from the stove, and poured himself a drink.

After two mouthfuls, Wenter squinted his eyes.

"This wine is a bit cloudy," he remarked, "but it perfectly suits the current atmosphere. The myriad flavors of life are much like this, wouldn’t you say?"

The wine of Mei Village was, of course, not "green ant wine"; that stuff was too inferior and wouldn’t be served on such an occasion.

Mei Wannian, in his lifetime, had a good head for business. The wines of Mei Village were often brewed with flower petals and even some traditional Chinese medicinal herbs, then marketed under the claim that they could cure all ills and strengthen the body.

It was just a pity that before Mei’s medicinal wine could truly flourish, the ’Mei’ in Mei Village had been changed to ’Zheng.’

"You should go to Qian State," Blind Bei said.

The Qian people loved this kind of sentimental atmosphere, but the Yan people had no taste for reciting poetry and affectations of melancholy.

This was probably because Qian State was rich in resources, able to support a large group of literati who, with full stomachs, had the luxury of being melodramatic. As for the men of Yan, they either joined the army to go north and fight the Barbarians or went south to plunder the Qian people and Jin people. When would they have the leisure for such baseless lamentations?

"Five hundred sets of armor have been put into storage, six hundred superior warhorses have been stabled, and the swords, spears, and powerful crossbows have all been sealed and accepted. So I’m very curious, Mr. Bei, your mood doesn’t seem as good as it was before."

"It’s raining."

"Oh, is it the rain affecting your mood, Mr. Bei? Yes, rainy days always make one feel sentimental."

"My rheumatism is acting up."

"..." Wenter.

Silence descended upon Mei Village tonight.

"Wenter," Blind Bei spoke.

"Yes, Mr. Bei?"

"Let me give you another gift."

"You are far too kind. The previous one..." Wenter gestured towards his chest. "I’ve already had people start working on it. I dare say it will set off a new fashion wave in Rome, perhaps even across the entire Western world!"

"This one is a freebie."

"Oh? What other guidance does Mr. Bei wish to bestow?" After a pause, Wenter continued, "Or rather, is there still some value in me that Mr. Bei can exploit?"

Wenter could swear that this blind man before him was the most troublesome person he had ever encountered in his life!

"I don’t want anything."

"Is it rain falling tonight? I thought it was gold."

"I really don’t want anything. It’s just a friendly reminder, from one friend to another."

Wenter’s gaze sharpened. Because in the world of commerce, ’friend’ meant: slash him, cheat him, chop him into pieces!

"A strong wind is about to rise in the Northern Lands. You should probably scale back your business for a while."

"Oh? Does Mr. Bei have connections within the imperial court?"

"The gods in heaven can learn from the Thunder Duke and Lightning Mother whether it will rain tomorrow, but an old farmer on earth can get the same answer from the clouds and the mice and ants on the ground. Wenter, don’t you think that your acquisition of military equipment and warhorses this time went a little too smoothly?"

"It was a bit too smooth. I was also wondering about that."

"Military equipment, provisions, warhorses—these are all extremely scarce resources in Beifeng Prefecture. Even through smuggling, it’s hard to get them in large quantities. But this time, these items have suddenly become much more plentiful on the market."

"Mr. Bei, I’m already having people investigate this matter."

"We Easterners have a tradition: before we chop off someone’s head, we give them a good meal."

"Could Mr. Bei please elaborate further?"

"I’ve already said enough."

"That’s not very friendly of you, Mr. Bei. Now I have to guess for myself."

"I told you, this is a freebie."

"Then why would Mr. Bei give it to me?"

"In the future, if I want to find a merchant from the Western Region to do business with again, I’d rather not go through the whole process from scratch."

"That reason is unassailable."

Blind Bei said no more.

He bent down, lifted the lid from the wine pot on the stove, then, picking up a bamboo skewer from beside him, he fished a handkerchief out of the wine pot.

He carefully took the handkerchief in both hands, squeezed it out, pressed it to his face, and gently rubbed. Finally, he took it down, meticulously wiped his left hand, and then meticulously wiped his right hand.

Beside him, Wenter’s expression changed from clear to murky, then to a sickly green, his body trembling uncontrollably.

Finally, when Wenter saw Blind Bei bring the handkerchief to his nose...

PHWOOOAR...

The moment the sound of Blind Bei blowing his nose into the handkerchief was heard, Wenter, who was beside him, immediately doubled over, opened his mouth, and provided his own accompanying sound effect:

"BLEAARGH..."

「...」

"I say, your dog fur is so comfortable. Why not shave it off and give it to me? I could make a blanket," Xue Three said.

"You give me that thing between your legs to gnaw on, and I’ll give you all my fur," Erha retorted.

Xue Three and Erha were lying together on the first floor.

To be precise, Erha was sprawled on the ground, with Xue Three lying on top of him.

The man and dog had grown remarkably close during this period.

Erha felt he had been greatly influenced; this tiny man actually concealed so much filth and depravity within him! He felt he was no longer pure.

However, Erha didn’t dislike this feeling.

Compared to the relationship between Blind Bei and Wenter upstairs, this man and dog had actually developed some genuine affection.

Erha wagged his tail.

"What do you think those two upstairs are talking about?" he asked.

"Whatever they’re discussing, it’s bound to be all mysterious. They don’t care about the result, just the experience of the process."

"Yeah, I get that feeling too," Erha agreed.

Xue Three stretched lazily.

"That Pixiu business I mentioned last time," he said, "how are you considering it?"

"I remember telling you, a Pixiu has no asshole."

Erha felt that a dog could lose a fight but not an argument; at least, he couldn’t back down verbally.

Xue Three chuckled and replied with two words, adding an emphatic particle:

"You do, ah!"

"..." Erha.

Just then, Wenter walked down the stairs, his face somewhat pale, his steps a bit unsteady.

He even forgot to take an umbrella, walking straight out into the curtain of rain.

Erha got up, wagged his tail, bid farewell to Xue Three, and followed Wenter out into the rain.

Xue Three straightened up, patted the lingering dog fur off his clothes, then looked up to see Blind Bei descending the stairs, carrying a lantern.

"I say, what did you do to that kid?" Xue Three asked. "He looked completely out of it when he came down."

"The wind’s picking up. Told him to go home and bring in the laundry," Blind Bei replied dismissively.

"TSK."

Blind Bei reached the bottom of the stairs and grasped his umbrella, but he didn’t hurry to open it, nor did he rush to go out.

"What’s wrong? Something on your mind?" Xue Three asked.

"Too many things. I don’t even know which one to worry about first."

"So that’s why you’re blind, eh? You just love to worry needlessly."

"HMM."

"My lord and Siniang have gone to escort the birthday tribute convoy. Liang Cheng and A Ming haven’t returned from recruiting soldiers yet," Xue Three said. "Worrying about their affairs won’t help. We’ve already done our part well. The military equipment, provisions, and warhorses are all prepared. The warehouses here in Mei Village are packed to the rafters right now. I think if Mei Wannian knew this in the underworld, he’d be showing a gratified and contented smile."

"HMM."

"Stop your needless worrying. I tell you, My lord and the others are blessed by fortune; they’ll be fine. Besides, to put it bluntly, if something really happened to My lord, we would be able to sense it."

If My lord were gone, they would most likely... also be in trouble.

"The climate in the north is still too dry," Blind Bei said. "It’s not good for the lungs or the skin."

"Oh? So you’re finding the northern wind and sand too much and thinking of migrating south?"

"I do have such plans, but we still have to wait for My lord to return before deciding."

"That could be tricky. We’ve just established a bit of a home base here. It’s not like the old days when we wandered the world with nothing to our names. My lord might not be willing to leave. Never mind My lord, could we ourselves truly bear to part with it?"

"That’s true."

"Alright then," Xue Three offered, "if you’re still feeling down, how about Old Man Xue personally sings you a tune to cheer you up, eh?"

Xue Three’s Yue Opera singing was superb; he had even performed on the stage at the inn before. However, the rough-and-tumble men of the north couldn’t appreciate these kinds of operas; they still preferred listening to dirty jokes.

"If you want to sing, I’ll accompany you," Blind Bei readily agreed.

"Let’s do it!"

Xue Three raised his hand, striking a pose.

Blind Bei crossed his left leg over his right knee and sat down. There was no chair beneath him, yet he ’sat’ remarkably steadily.

With his erhu in hand, ready to play, he said, "You start us off."

"AHEM..."

Xue Three cleared his throat and directly launched into a famous aria from the Yue Opera *Dream of the Red Chamber*:

"From heaven fell a Sister Lin, like a light cloud just emerging from the peaks..."

CRASH!!!!!

A deafening sound interrupted Xue Three’s singing and silenced Blind Bei’s erhu.

A Zombie, exuding a torrential baleful aura, landed in Mei Village, right before the pavilion, amidst the curtain of rain in front of Blind Bei and Xue Three.

Xue Three coughed several times and exclaimed, "Good heavens, Sister Lin! What in the world have you been through?!"