"…When our auxiliary spirit masters fall into danger, our priority is…"
"Tons… tons… tons…"
Qin Ming gamely continued his lecture, chalk squeaking on the blackboard. But no one in the classroom was listening anymore. Every few breaths, the steady sound of gulping alcohol echoed from the corner seat—a sound that had already branded itself into every student's nerves.
Boys glanced toward the source with a mix of dread and reluctant admiration. Girls… well, most of their looks carried a bit more lingering affection than fear.
And who could blame them?
Even drunk, Lu Yuan was hard to ignore. His hair was cut short, pitch black and slightly messy, giving him a careless roguish charm. His eyes were naturally sharp, though now heavy-lidded and blurred by intoxication. He looked wild yet strangely captivating.
Though young, his striking features were almost flawless, enough to steal a girl's breath away if she stared too long. If not for the minor "flaws" of being addicted to alcohol and prone to violence, he would be everyone's dream genius.
The bell suddenly rang.
Ding-ling-ling—
Qin Ming nearly collapsed with relief. "Class dismissed!"
Without waiting for a second, he packed up and bolted out of the classroom like a mouse fleeing from a cat. The students followed his lead, scattering quickly.
Lu Yuan was drunk again, and no one wanted to get caught in his storm.
Yu Tianheng, his pride still smarting after being humiliated earlier, was the first to escape. Not long ago, he had proudly proclaimed himself heir to the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon clan and captain of the Emperor Team… only to be floored in front of half his class by a single casual punch. One round—humiliated beyond repair. For him, leaving was the only choice.
Drinking, Women, and Swords
"Tons… tons… ha!" Lu Yuan drained the last of the jar and sighed with satisfaction. "Now this is when the day really begins!"
"Lu Yuan, you've drunk too much again," Dugu Yan clicked her tongue as she approached, rearranging the scattered jars on his desk.
"Lu Yuan Big Brother, let us take you back." Ye Lingling's voice was soft, her radiant eyes watching him carefully.
Lu Yuan's grin widened. With one hand clutching his wine jar, he slung an arm around each girl's shoulders. "Yanyan, Lingling… why don't the two of you keep me company for another drink?"
Groans of envy would have filled the class—had anyone still been in it. By now, all the other students had long since scattered, unwilling to get within ten meters of him once he staggered into the hall.
The sight was almost comical. A handsome drunk hugging two beautiful girls on either side, a massive sheathed sword strapped to his back, and a jar of wine forever in hand—that was Lu Yuan's trademark look.
"Lu Yuan Big Brother, your sword is so unique…" Lingling's curious fingers reached toward the blade strapped to his back before she realized what she was doing.
In an instant, Lu Yuan turned. His hand shot out, firmly grasping her delicate wrist. For the first time that evening, his drunken gaze sharpened with unexpected seriousness.
"Lingling," he said, voice low and firm, "never touch this sword."
Her eyes widened. Even tipsy, he looked utterly sober at that moment, his expression solemn.
"A-Alright." She nodded quickly, taken aback by how different he suddenly seemed.
But almost as quickly as it came, the serious aura vanished. He grinned again, staggered forward, and tilted the jar to his lips.
"Tons… tons…"
A Lonely House in Tiandou
Because of Lu Yuan's constant drunken brawls, Tiandou Academy's head of academic affairs, Meng Shenji, had long since given up trying to control him. Instead, he arranged a small residence for Lu Yuan within the city itself, away from the dorms. Easier to contain that way.
That evening, Yan and Lingling walked the half-conscious boy back to his house.
"Careful—don't trip!" Dugu Yan grunted as she supported one arm.
Lingling bit her lip, lowering her voice. "Yanyan, what's really going on with that sword of his?"
"I don't know," Yan admitted softly. "I've been with him four years. Not once has he let me touch it."
Moonlight Sword
Late at night, Lu Yuan stirred again, throat parched. He blinked blearily, spotting a glass of clear water and a neat note by his bed.
Big Brother Lu Yuan, drink this water when you wake up! —Yan & Lingling.
A smile tugged at his mouth as he gulped it down, the cool water refreshing his mind.
"Hah…" He slid the heavy sword off his back at last.
The blade was over three feet long and more than three inches wide, carved with a single golden vein that glowed faintly in the moonlight, running seamlessly toward its sharp tip.
This sword was his Martial Soul.
The day of his awakening ceremony, it had cleaved straight through the mountain of Qibaoshan, shaking the earth and nearly causing a landslide. But unlike others, who could dismiss their Martial Souls at will, Lu Yuan's never vanished once released. He had tried countless times. The sword simply… stayed.
And every time he infused soul power into it, he heard it—hundreds of thousands of indistinct screams clawing at his heart. His body itched with rage and irritation.
That was why he rarely drew it. Why he refused to let others lay even a finger on it.
Four years had passed since arriving at Tiandou. As he gazed at the blade under the pale moonlight, his thoughts flickered briefly to Chen Xin and Gu Rong. Were they doing well?
For a moment, his expression darkened, as if recalling something unspeakable. Then he shook his head, forcing a grin.
"Drank too little, that's all. Thinking too much."
He raised a fresh jar.
"Tons… tons…"
[Ding! Detected: Host's alcohol level has exceeded limits. Converting excess alcohol into Sword Intent!]
The sword pulsed faintly, golden light rippling along its body. Dark shadows flickered through Lu Yuan's eyes.
A Prince's Plea
Knock, knock.
"Who the hell is disturbing Laozi's drinking?!"
From outside came a nervous voice: "Brother Lu Yuan, it's me… Xue Beng!"
Lu Yuan opened the door, fumes of alcohol spilling into the night air. The prince winced, looking as though he'd just swallowed bitter gourd.
He'd come thinking Lu Yuan would be sober at night. Mistake! He drank equally well under both sun and moon.
"Eh? What do you want, brat?" Lu Yuan muttered, suspicious but not too drunk to think. The timing was wrong. A prince showing up with wine in the middle of the night clearly had an agenda.
"Brother Lu Yuan, I've brought two jars of royal tribute wine," Xue Beng said quickly, raising the jars reverently.
The sharp glint in Lu Yuan's eyes softened slightly. Tribute wine was leagues better than the cheap jars he usually drowned in.
"…What are you plotting?" Lu Yuan muttered.
The prince smiled awkwardly. "To be honest, someone wants me dead. I… I'd like you to be my bodyguard." He hurriedly added, "If you agree, the royal tribute wine will be endless!"
Lu Yuan's heart stirred. Endless tribute wine? Tempting. Very tempting.
But he wasn't a fool. "Just tribute wine? Hah! Your life is worth more than that. If you want my protection, bring me a soul bone—more than 50,000 years old!"
Xue Beng's face stiffened. Asking a fallen prince to find a 50,000-year bone was highway robbery!
"I—" His protests caught in his throat. After endless hesitation, he pulled a brown soul bone from a golden Soul Guidance Device.
It was from his uncle, a treasure he could hardly use with his meager cultivation anyway. If anything, possessing it only placed him in more danger. Far better to hand it over in exchange for Lu Yuan's strength.
"Here. Please… keep it safe."
Lu Yuan reached out once—missed. Tried again—missed again, the bone nearly tumbling from his clumsy drunk fingers.
"Bastard! Give it properly!" he growled.
Xue Beng nearly cried. It's not me, it's you who's drunk! But he dared not complain aloud.
Finally, he placed the bone firmly in Lu Yuan's hand. Lu Yuan grinned.
"Alright then. From today, you stick to me. Don't wander more than ten meters away, or I'll smash you flat!"
… Am I hiring a bodyguard, or becoming your dog? Xue Beng screamed silently inside. Outwardly, he forced a smile.
"Brother Lu Yuan," he muttered, "this can't be so unfair. I gave you a soul bone already, and don't try to trick me—it's not fifty thousand years, more like under twenty thousand!"
But Lu Yuan had already lost interest in negotiations.
"Tons… tons…"
Xue Beng winced, face pale as chalk. Blood loss! I've been robbed blind! But it was too late. The monster was drunk all over again.
There would be no discussing this further tonight.
--
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