Indeed, it was a fine wine, full-bodied and fragrant, its aroma so enticing that it drew one deep into intoxication.
Wang Guan lifted his cup, his gaze sweeping over the silent Daxiong Bao Hall. He then announced loudly, "I heard a joke in Nanjing City. There was a landlord's son who couldn't read. Someone advised the rich man to hire a teacher to instruct him. The teacher first taught the character 'one,' a single stroke. The character 'two' has two strokes, and 'three' has three strokes. After that, the landlord's foolish son proudly threw away his brush, telling his father he had mastered all characters and didn't need the teacher anymore. The rich man was delighted and dismissed the teacher. One day, the rich man wanted to invite a friend with the surname Wan for a drink. He asked his son to write an invitation in the morning, but by noon, it was still unwritten. When the rich man inquired, his son complained, 'There are so many surnames in the world—why did that guest have to have the surname Wan? I've been writing since morning and have only reached over five hundred strokes!'"
Hearing this dry, tasteless joke, the horde of demons looked at each other wordlessly. After a few seconds, they finally caught on and burst out laughing in unison.
Awkward yet polite laughter filled the entire hall. Delighted, the Taoist Wang Guan raised his cup to the guests. "To drink with you all!"
"To drink!"
The demons, with playful grins, raised their cups and emptied them in one go.
The members of the mission team, watching the demons gulp down the strong liquor, also raised their cups, pretending to drink.
The liquor, imbued with Spiritual Energy, was indeed extraordinary. After each demon drank a cup, their faces flushed, and their expressions grew dazed. They began recounting stale jokes to one another, making the other ghostly creatures roar with laughter.
Those demons and monsters who had no jokes to tell shared recent stories of eating humans—when, where, and what kind of people.
"Just the day before yesterday, I ambushed a group of traders in the mountains. The tastiest among them was a fat man, and the tastiest part of him was his liver—so oily, rich, and smooth."
"Wrong, the best parts of a fat man are his brain and intestines—'fat head and greasy guts,' after all."
"I think skinny ones taste better—lean and chewy."
"TSK TSK, I really want to eat a couple of young boys and girls again...."
The drunk demons completely cast aside their harmless disguises, holding forth boisterously about their culinary experiences.
Seated in a small corner, the mission team's faces were grim and unsettled. In the eyes of the demons, they were Evil Cultivators who had returned to the Central Plains from overseas.
Should they dare reveal even the slightest indignation, they would immediately be assailed and killed by the united horde of demons.
They had to endure.
The Mountain Demon Taoist seated at the head of the hall surveyed the Daxiong Bao Hall and smiled. "A good banquet with good wine—how can there be no good meat?"
With a grand wave of his hand, the Fierce Ghost in white robes floated back to the sedan chair and brought out a beautiful woman wearing a red dress, her belly protruding.
The woman, who had been unconscious, was brought into the hall. Stimulated by the demonic aura, she immediately woke up. Looking around, her eyes met the fierce and terrifying faces of the demons and monsters. She screamed and nearly fainted.
HAHAHAHA! The assembled demons saw the pregnant woman's terrified state and laughed uproariously, their wild laughter seeming as if it would lift the roof off the entire Daxiong Bao Hall.
"Hong Niang, don't be afraid. Come to your husband," said the Taoist Wang Guan from the head seat, beckoning with his hand and speaking to the woman with a benevolent expression.
"Husband, save me!" The woman saw Wang Guan and, as if grasping at a lifeline, ran towards him in a panic, hiding behind him. "This place is...."
"This is the Solitary Cold Temple, the Demon Palace," Wang Guan replied, his bony hand, like chicken skin, gently stroking the woman's hair. "Hong Niang, how long have you been with me?"
"Three, three years," said Hong Niang, her teeth chattering in fear. "It's been three years since my husband redeemed me from the pleasure quarters."
"Three years, eh?"
Wang Guan mused, reaching out to touch Hong Niang's protruding belly. "At last, you are with child."
Hong Niang seemed to realize something. Covering her belly, her face a deathly pale, she stammered, "H-Husband?"
"People always say, 'sour for a son, spicy for a daughter.' Hong Niang, have you been craving sour or spicy food recently?"
"...Sour."
"Then it's a son?"
Wang Guan clapped his hands and said to the assembled demons, "Having a son is good, oh yes! A son means an extra ounce or two of meat compared to a daughter!"
What? The demons were stunned for a moment, then quickly understood and burst into unrestrained laughter.
"Yes, yes, Taoist Wang Guan is right; a male infant would have more meat than a female one."
The demons' flattery sounded to Hong Niang like whispers from hell. She shuddered all over and dared not move a muscle.
"Hong Niang, haven't you always found it strange?"
The more frightened the woman became, the gentler Wang Guan's voice grew. "My family is not prominent, the shops under my name are faring poorly, and I even lack interest in buying farmland. Tell me, how did I accumulate such vast wealth in just a few years?"
"...My lord, my lord can craft elixirs."
"Correct, crafting elixirs. But what kind of elixirs do I craft?"
"I don't know, I don't know...."
"No, you do know," Wang Guan said with a smile. "You know what elixirs I craft, which is why you insist on staying in the Southern Suburb Courtyard, refusing to move into the Royal Mansion."
"..." Hong Niang's face was ashen; she remained silent.
"Foolish woman. Pitiful, lamentable, and tragic," Wang Guan said with a smile, caressing Hong Niang's belly. "Lately, haven't you been secretly gathering evidence against me for that Criminal Department Shilang, Wang Kuang, Wang Cunyue, who returned after three years of mourning his mother? Thinking about denouncing me, having me thrown into the dungeon, and rescuing your sisters from the Royal Mansion?"
Hong Niang's face drained of color. She shook like a leaf, her teeth chattering uncontrollably.
In the Daxiong Bao Hall, the demons whispered among themselves. To these Monsters, matters like the Criminal Department Shilang or Wang Kuang, Wang Cunyue, were trivial affairs of the mortal world. They neither understood nor cared how any of this related to today's banquet.
So, that's how it is.
Li Ang sighed deeply and turned to his teammates, speaking quietly, "The thirteenth year of Jiajing, Solitary Cold Temple, Wang Guan, the auxiliary capital Nanjing City... I've understood too late."
Xing Hechou lowered his voice, speaking urgently, "What have you understood?"
"The System has been hinting at the truth behind this mission from the beginning. All the clues were right in front of us, but we just failed to notice them."
Li Ang gave a bitter smile and tapped his forehead with his knuckles. "Has anyone read a historical record from the mid-Wanli period of the Ming Dynasty, compiled by Jiao Hong (style name Ruohou) of the Hanlin Academy, titled 'Records of National Tribute'?"
What in the world is that? Is it edible?
"'Records of National Tribute' collected primary historical materials from the Hongwu to the Jiajing periods. These included imperial instructions and records, local gazetteers, unofficial histories, Shinto tablets, and so on. The materials were categorized by imperial clan, Nobles, cabinet members, Filial Sons, and righteous people, offering broad coverage and detailed content."
Li Ang explained rapidly, "And within such a reputable historical text, there is an account of a sensational, horrifying tale that shocks all norms."