A figure flickered, and the silhouette of Old Man Dong appeared under the pavilion.
Seeing Lian Nichang was still there, the old man's loud voice lowered, and he winked at Chen Yuan, humming with his mouth.
"Young people have no sense of martial virtues, deceiving an old man like me who's over two hundred. That wine jug of yours is like a Pixiu's belly, probably could fit an entire mountain, yet things can only go in, not come out."
Then he flipped his hand, and with a clang, he placed onto the stone table beside him a wine jug with a white jade fine spout.
"Inside is all the old man's stock, not a drop left. Chen, if you go back on your word, I won't stand for it."
Speaking of which, Old Man Dong winced in pain.
Chen Yuan looked at Old Man Dong's expression, chuckled, beckoned the wine jug into his hand, opened the lid, took a light sniff at the tip of his nose, nodded with satisfaction, then closed the lid, and put it into his sleeve pocket.
