“Alright, as long as you distribute it evenly, I absolutely won’t fight you for your meat.” Unknown Elder grabbed a handful of peanuts, popping them into his mouth one by one. Somehow, he could still speak fluently while eating, as if he had some special ability.

“Come on, Daoist, let’s have a drink.” Edward Brooks smiled, picked up his own bottle, and clinked it against Unknown Elder’s.

Today, Edward Brooks bought four bottles of liquor, two for each of them. Normally, Unknown Elder liked to snatch drinks, but today he drank very politely, as if afraid his two bottles would be finished too quickly. But when it came to the pork head meat and flatbread on the table, he attacked them like a starving tiger, moving so swiftly that even the much younger Edward Brooks had to admit defeat.

Edward Brooks ate very little. He really enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere when drinking with Unknown Elder, and didn’t care how much food he actually ate. With Unknown Elder, Edward Brooks could speak his mind freely, without worrying whether the other would listen seriously, or whether he’d be mocked or ridiculed. In Unknown Elder’s eyes, nothing in the world was as important as the wine and meat before him.

Over the past couple of days, Edward Brooks had noticed that Unknown Elder probably lived a life of feast or famine. He was so laid-back that if he had any money, he’d likely spend it on wine, never mind whether his stomach was empty. Edward Brooks decided to help him out whenever he could.

The two of them drank and chatted, but were careful not to ask about each other’s personal matters. Sometimes, Edward Brooks would vent his frustrations. Unknown Elder’s Daoist skills were unknown, but his eloquence was impressive—he could ramble on for hours about anything and everything. Whenever Edward Brooks complained, he would skillfully divert his attention with strange tales and anecdotes, indirectly comforting him.

Unknown Elder had traveled to many places, was knowledgeable and had a great memory, and with his eloquence, he had plenty of fascinating stories that Edward Brooks found captivating. At the same time, his inner gloom would quietly dissipate, which was one reason Edward Brooks liked coming to the Sanqing Daoist Temple.

Unknowingly, night had fallen outside, and each of them had finished two jin of strong liquor. The food on the table was also completely gone—thanks to Unknown Elder, of course. Edward Brooks had only picked at a few bites at the start, and later just occasionally grabbed a peanut. He could always buy more food after returning, and even if he went hungry for a meal, he could eat at the school cafeteria the next day. But Unknown Elder didn’t have that option.

The strong liquor was said to have a powerful after-effect, but Edward Brooks felt the rumors were untrue—he didn’t feel a thing. After leaving the Sanqing Daoist Temple, he walked all the way back to Shumuling Middle School, feeling more and more energetic as he went. In the words of the martial world, his mind was clear and bright.

Walking under the moonlight, Edward Brooks thoroughly enjoyed the feeling. His footsteps echoed far in the quiet night, and the occasional snoring and muttered dreams from houses along the road, as well as the distant barking of some family’s watchdog, all made him feel very cozy.

Back at the dorm, after washing up, Edward Brooks lay on his bed and quickly fell asleep. In his dreams, he saw Lily Carter, and the two of them walked hand in hand along a country path—the path that led to his old home...

The next day, Edward Brooks woke up even earlier. The reason he slept so soundly last night was partly because he’d stuffed cotton in his ears, and partly because he’d drunk two jin of strong liquor, which numbed his nerves and dulled his senses. But by morning, the alcohol had long been absorbed, and the cotton balls in his ears had deformed a bit due to gravity, leaving a small gap at the top.

William Long and Benjamin Vaughn’s snoring was much quieter than yesterday, but what really woke Edward Brooks was that damned mouse under his bed. At that moment, it was gnawing away at the bed leg. Even though he hadn’t looked under the bed, Edward Brooks strangely found that he could “see” the mouse. It was about the size of a fist, happily chewing on the bed leg, as if it were made of fresh meat rather than wood.

The sensation was odd and wonderful. Maybe the mouse’s appearance was just his imagination, but he could pinpoint its location, even which corner of the bed leg it was chewing on. To verify what he’d heard, Edward Brooks quietly picked up the flashlight by his pillow, turned it on gently, then suddenly flipped over and lay on the edge of the bed, poking his head underneath. The flashlight beam shone directly at the spot he suspected.

Sure enough, the mouse was there, gnawing away with great interest. The sudden beam of light caught it off guard, and its eyes narrowed to slits as it stared blankly at Edward Brooks.

“Whack!”

Edward Brooks grabbed his shoe by the bed and hurled it at the mouse. Unfortunately, he was a bit slow. The mouse had already reacted—by the time he reached for his shoe, it had darted out of the dorm. After such a scare, it probably wouldn’t dare come back under Edward Brooks’s bed to cause trouble for a while.