Ye Feng ignored Zhou Changshu and continued enjoying the pleasures of a rich young master.
But the others inside Drunken Immortal Tavern weren’t so calm.
Ye Feng had clearly said that tonight’s expenses were on him. If Zhou Changshu ruined his mood and made him leave in anger, would the expensive wine they just ordered have to be paid for out of their own pockets?
At that thought, everyone instantly got angry.
“Hey, I don’t care who you are—apologize to Young Master Ye, or don’t even think about leaving safely!”
“Eat from his bowl and then curse him? You’re drinking the wine he paid for and turning around to insult him?”
“All dressed up like a scholar, but no gratitude, just stirring up trouble. Did your education go straight into a dog’s belly?”
People started criticizing Zhou Changshu one after another. Some with hotter tempers even looked ready to fight. If it weren’t for the powerful backing of Drunken Immortal Tavern, fists would’ve already flown.
Zhou Changshu was dumbfounded!
He was just completing a system mission: provoke Ye Feng, engage him in a poetry duel, then use his own literary prowess to crush Ye Feng and steal fortune points.
How did this end up earning everyone’s wrath?
Worse still, Ye Feng hadn’t even responded—he was still enjoying Yueya’s company as if Zhou Changshu didn’t exist.
Watching the crowd’s fury, Zhou Changshu panicked. He was just an ordinary person now, with no cultivation at all. Meanwhile, many in the crowd were at Martial Apprentice Realm or higher. If a fight broke out, he’d be beaten to death before completing his mission.
Gritting his teeth, Zhou Changshu decided to gamble. He pointed at Ye Feng and spoke with righteous indignation.
“Ye Feng, even though I walk the literary path and you the martial one, I once idolized you and admired your tenacious spirit.”
“But now, here you are in a pleasure house, indulging in vice, abandoning your path. You’ve truly disappointed me!”
In Zhou Changshu’s mind, dropping this moral sledgehammer would force Ye Feng to respond. Once Ye Feng acknowledged him, Zhou could use his rhetorical tricks to easily manipulate him.
And to his surprise, Ye Feng finally looked up.
But Ye Feng’s next words nearly broke Zhou Changshu on the spot.
“So, Young Master Zhou didn’t come here to drink and flirt, but to read Confucian classics?”
The entire tavern erupted in laughter.
Zhou Changshu had never stopped to consider whether he was living up to his own standards before preaching to others.
At that moment, his face turned bright red, completely speechless.
Especially when he saw the mockery in Yueya’s eyes—he wished he could disappear on the spot.
Thankfully, Zhou Changshu had thick skin. After a moment, he composed himself, then said confidently, “Hmph, I refuse to be immersed in such debauchery. A beauty is nothing more than a powdered skeleton.”
Everyone was stunned. They hadn’t expected him to say something so philosophical. The phrase “powdered skeleton” even caught the attention of some poets in the room—it wasn’t something a drunken fool could casually come up with.
Even Yueya’s impression of him slightly improved.
Noticing the shift in people’s attitudes, Zhou Changshu’s face lit up with pride. He then pointed at Ye Feng and declared, “Ye Feng, I haven’t yet mastered the literary path and possess no cultivation. Why don’t we each set a topic and compose a poem on the spot to see who is superior?”
Hearing this, the crowd grew excited and looked to Ye Feng. In the Great Qin Empire, refusing a public challenge was a great loss of face.
Ye Feng glanced at Zhou Changshu—who was practically screaming “I want to complete my system mission”—and a trace of disdain flashed across his face.
So what if Zhou Changshu had impressive poetry from his past life?
Could he compare to the brilliance of five thousand years of Huaxia civilization?
A single Tang poem or Song lyric could utterly crush him.
But Ye Feng had no intention of entertaining this duel.
Win or lose, Zhou Changshu’s golden finger would reward him regardless—this was how villain-system plotlines worked. And besides, was a clown like Zhou Changshu even worthy of challenging the legacy of Huaxia poetry?
Thinking this, Ye Feng smiled.
Just as Zhou Changshu grew excited, thinking Ye Feng was about to accept, Ye Feng opened his mouth—not to mock, but to speak clearly and coldly.
“Your martial skills are weak, so now you want to compete in poetry? Your realm isn’t enough, so you want a duel in verse? Do you think this is child’s play?”
“You purposely use your strength to target someone’s weakness. Shameless. You’ve thrown away the dignity of a scholar!”
“I have never seen anyone so utterly shameless!”
“Why don’t we just let the 1 million border soldiers of the Great Qin stop fighting the Han and ask their emperor to settle the war with a chess game while we’re at it?” Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Hearing Ye Feng’s words, the crowd immediately understood what was going on.
Zhou Changshu’s challenge might have seemed fair on the surface, but in reality, he was targeting Ye Feng’s weak point. It was utterly disgraceful!
Everyone’s gaze toward Zhou Changshu changed to one of contempt. Even Yueya looked at him with pure disgust.
“You, you, you—!” Zhou Changshu pointed at Ye Feng, his fingers trembling. He wanted to say something, to refute, but couldn’t get a word out.
Because everything Ye Feng had said was true.
Pfft!
Overwhelmed with humiliation and rage, Zhou Changshu coughed up a mouthful of blood and collapsed to the floor, his face pale.
The crowd was stunned. A scholar on the path of literature had his Dao Heart shattered by a martial artist’s scolding?
They looked at Ye Feng with awe—and a trace of fear.
But then Ye Feng suddenly changed his tone, smiling as he asked Zhou Changshu, “Old Zhou, do you want a wife?”
Zhou Changshu blinked, confused by the question. He had no idea what Ye Feng was getting at.
The crowd was also puzzled. Was Ye Feng trying to slap him then hand him candy to win him over?
Ignoring their confusion, Ye Feng looked at Zhou Changshu and said directly, “If you want, I can redeem Yueya’s contract and let you be with her.”
Boom!
Zhou Changshu’s mind went blank.
Yueya was his white moonlight.
But as the top courtesan of Drunken Immortal Tavern, her contract cost 10 low-grade spirit stones—equal to 100,000 taels of gold.
With no cultivation and an inactive system, Zhou Changshu could never afford it. That’s why he never redeemed her.
He never expected Ye Feng would offer to pay for him.
This windfall nearly knocked him unconscious.
He was about to say yes, but suddenly paused—something didn’t feel right.