Chapter 7: Drunken Capital Tower

Chapter 7: Drunken Capital Tower

Drunken Capital Tower was the finest restaurant in the capital, lively and bustling day and night, especially at night, when it blazed with lights and activity.

Glasses clinking, music and dance, poetry composed on the spot...

It was, without question, one of the liveliest spots in the capital.

The tower rose three stories. The first floor was packed and rowdy—anyone with enough silver could walk in and enjoy themselves.

The second floor demanded a certain status; it was the ideal place for entertaining guests and hosting banquets—convenient and prestigious.

The third floor, however, was reserved exclusively for royalty, nobles, and high-ranking officials.

The private rooms were exorbitantly priced and had to be booked well in advance; without the right status, you couldn't get one at all.

Cheng Yi wasn't a regular at Drunken Capital Tower, but his reputation had made him a familiar name at every major restaurant and shop.

Now that the title "Little War God" was on everyone's lips, his portrait had long been passed around at all the top establishments.

So the moment he walked in, plenty of people recognized him.

The manager's eyes lit up, and he scurried over to greet him.

"Young General, please come upstairs—the young masters have been waiting for a while."

"Then lead the way, and make it quick."

Fuzi puffed out his chest and looked down his nose at the manager.

The manager personally escorted Cheng Yi up to the third floor.

Wherever he passed, eyes followed him.

Cheng Yi was naturally tall and striking, with features that were exceptionally handsome. Now that the young man had returned victorious from battle, he was in his prime, and every move he made drew attention.

Cheng Yi lived up to expectations, striding in with his head held high, every gesture earning admiration.

"No wonder my little brother is so obsessed with him—this Second Young Master Cheng really has extraordinary bearing and looks like no other."

"And he's got real skill too—accomplishing so much at such a young age."

"No wonder the Old Duke dotes on him so much; who wouldn't be charmed by that face?"

"What a shame..."

Someone let out a sigh, and the crowd knowingly shook their heads in unison.

"That eldest son of Minister Shen... tsk tsk tsk..."

Another round of knowing sighs followed.

A few sharper minds saw what others couldn't.

"A tall tree catches the wind... standing out too much isn't always a good thing."

"Still young and reckless..."

Others made jealous remarks:

"Hmph, with all that swagger, no wonder the Old Duke gave him a thrashing."

"Look at that smug face—he's bound to trip up sooner or later."

...

Cheng Yi headed straight for the private room on the third floor, where he ran into several familiar faces. A group of richly dressed young masters greeted him, all smiles.

"Well, well, if it isn't our Little War God~"

"Cheng Er, that's not cool—you've been secretly grinding behind our backs. You owe us a punishment."

"Make him down three cups?"

"No, no—at least three pitchers."

...

The young men ribbed him one after another.

Cheng Yi let them carry on, when a voice suddenly rang out that made his blood boil.

"Ayi, you came back alive. That's good to see."

Cheng Yi clenched his fists without realizing it, a piercing pain radiating from his chest, as if a bloody sword were still stuck there.

He held himself back with immense effort, burying the surging hatred deep in his heart.

Turning around, he met Lin Beixiao's face, which was barely concealing his joy, tears glistening in his eyes—pure delight and excitement.

Cheng Yi's eyes reddened slightly, and he pulled his good brother into a hug.

"Yeah, I came back alive."

The reunion hug conveniently concealed the murderous intent he hadn't yet managed to hide.

The other young masters looked on with envy or disdain, thinking Lin Beixiao had just gotten lucky to be so valued by Cheng Yi—otherwise, he wouldn't even deserve to stand here, let alone earn their respect.

Any courtesy they showed him was only because of Cheng Yi.

So they quickly shoved Lin Beixiao out of the circle and crowded around Cheng Yi, seating him at the head of the table.

"Cheng Er, tell us—does it snow year-round up in the northern frontier?"

"I heard the people of Great Yan have red hair and green eyes—is that for real?"

"Bullshit, I heard they have brown hair and are covered in brown fur from head to toe, like a bunch of brown bears."

The group was buzzing with curiosity, firing off questions.

Before Cheng Yi could answer, their curiosity shifted to: "I heard you once took on an enemy general all by yourself—is that true?"

"I heard Cheng Er knocked that enemy general off his horse with one spear thrust?"

"Cheng Er, what's it like to kill someone?"

"Is cutting off a head like chopping firewood?"

"Is killing a man basically the same as killing a chicken?"

"Cheng Er, did you seriously kick that enemy general's head around like a ball?"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard Cheng Er chopped off the enemy general's head with one swing. Those Great Yan guys are hairy, with thick brown beards. The severed head was all bloody, eyes bulging like brass bells, and it rolled right up to Cheng Er's feet. Then he booted it back into the enemy lines, scaring them into a full retreat, and our side won a huge victory on the spot..."

Cheng Yi: "..."

He had indeed chopped off the enemy general's head; on the battlefield, weapons don't discriminate, and all kinds of gruesome deaths happen.

As for taking the enemy general's head, it wasn't some twisted hobby—first, it intimidates the enemy, and second, it fires up our own troops.

But kicking it around like a ball? That's taking it too far, isn't it?

Who the hell was making him out to be some kind of monster?

Cheng Yi let them talk all the nonsense they wanted, but his eyes were scanning the crowd.

Soon, in a tucked-away corner, he spotted that familiar figure he hadn't seen in ages.

He'd always been thin, but now he looked even more gaunt. He sat by himself, drinking alone, not joining in the chatter, not even glancing at Cheng Yi, the man of the hour.

He just sat there quietly, looking completely out of place.

Distant memories came flooding back all at once, like a dam had broken in Cheng Yi's mind.

They used to be the best of friends, inseparable, telling each other everything.

But somewhere along the line, things got tense between them, and they slowly drifted apart.

Yeah, it started when Lin Beixiao showed up.

He didn't like Lin Beixiao, and he absolutely loathed Xie Yulin.

They'd had plenty of falling-outs over it, and in the end, Xie Yulin was what finally destroyed their friendship.

The last time they met in his previous life, the first thing he did was accuse Cheng Yi of being absurd for backing Xie Yulin.

They hadn't seen each other in three years, but they were arguing within two sentences.

He said Cheng Yi would regret it sooner or later and pay the price for such a stupid decision.

But Cheng Yi was just disappointed that his old friend was as narrow-minded as everyone else, hung up on Xie Yulin's status as a young lord, completely blind to the fact that his ambition and strategy outshone all the other princes.

That was when they cut ties for good.

Cheng Yi was so furious that he didn't notice how haggard he looked. It wasn't until later, when he heard of his death, that he realized the guy had already been deathly ill and bedridden for days.

If it hadn't been to talk some sense into him, he never would've dragged his sick body out there.

But in the end, they both said the cruelest, most hurtful things to each other.

Cheng Yi carried that guilt for years, until Xie Yulin betrayed him—only then did he understand how desperate and heartbroken his friend must have felt back then.

He must have been completely crushed, but even on his deathbed, he hadn't fully given up on Cheng Yi.

Cheng Yi suddenly thought Shen Yichen was right to chew him out—he really had no clue.

Maybe because Cheng Yi's stare was too intense, the guy drinking alone finally looked up his way.

The second their eyes met, they both froze.

Because of Lin Beixiao, they'd already drifted apart, so he had no idea Cheng Yi had gone off to the frontier.

Right then, he could clearly see the worry in the other man's eyes, but they were both young and stubborn, and neither was willing to be the first to cave and say something nice.

Just then, Lin Beixiao had somehow already appeared at Cheng Yi's side.

Seeing Cheng Yi staring off in that direction with a hint of guilt on his face, Lin Beixiao said,

"Sorry, Ayi, I know you don't want to see him, but you two used to be inseparable brothers. You nearly died out on the frontier, and given your history, he should at least come to welcome you back."

"You're not gonna blame me for taking the initiative, are you, Ayi?"

Cheng Yi let out a soft chuckle. "Of course not."

The other guy saw them whispering together, let out a cold snort, and looked away.

Cheng Yi fought the urge to go over there.

Since he'd been given a second chance at life, there was no need to rush.

A bunch of young lords kept pushing Cheng Yi to drink cup after cup.

His buddies were deliberately trying to get him wasted, and surprisingly, Cheng Yi accepted every single toast today.

In the past, Cheng Yi wouldn't have dared to drink like this—first, because he couldn't hold his liquor, and second, because the Old Duke was strict and wouldn't let him act up outside.

"Damn, worthy of the Little War God who can take an enemy's head off with one swing! A year away, and Cheng Er, your tolerance has really improved."

"No kidding, back in the day, a few cups and he'd be under the table."

These young lords were all famous good-for-nothings in the capital, pros at eating, drinking, and having a good time. They rarely got a chance like this, so they jumped at the opportunity to keep pouring drinks for Cheng Yi.

Today, Cheng Yi seemed especially loose, accepting every toast that came his way.

Fang Qingbai wanted to step in, but seeing Lin Beixiao always standing by Cheng Yi's side to take the drinks for him, he gave up in a huff.

Hmph, he had plenty of people around him; he didn't need some killjoy like him.

Cheng Yi was soon drunk, his eyes getting glassy.

"Cheng Er, you drunk?"

"Just a little buzzed."

Cheng Yi grabbed a cup and downed it in one go, then raised an eyebrow at the crowd.

They figured his tolerance had gone up, but just then, a burst of laughter came from the next table over.

Because the laughter seemed to involve Cheng Yi's name, the group went quiet, which made the racket from across the room even clearer.

"I don't know what he's so smug about. If the emperor really valued him, why would he stick him with that unwanted young lord from the Shen family as his main consort?"

"Exactly, isn't that just a slap in the face?"

"I said it a long time ago—Cheng Yi's an idiot, and his old man's useless. If it weren't for the Old Duke backing him, he wouldn't even be fit to carry my shoes."

"Yeah, yeah, Young Master Wang's got it right."

"Hmph, you all say Shen Yichen doesn't deserve him, but this young lord thinks it's actually Cheng Yi who doesn't deserve Young Master Shen. Oh wait, no—they're clearly a perfect match."

"Scum with scum, isn't that just a perfect match? Hahaha."

As soon as the words were spoken, another roar of laughter followed, along with even more vile and vicious taunts, each one ringing loud and clear in their ears.

"Damn it, that son of a bitch Wang Weisheng is here too."

"Let's go, kick their asses!"

Jiang San had always been hot-tempered, and the others were boiling with rage, immediately rolling up their sleeves to go throw down.

These young lords were split into two factions, and wouldn't you know it, the group across from them happened to be their sworn enemies led by Wang Weisheng.

Wang Weisheng, counting on the Wang family's clout, had been a bully and a tyrant since he was a kid, looking down his nose at everyone.

Now that his aunt was the Empress, he'd gotten even more out of control.

Too bad for him, Cheng Yi had never been afraid of anything since he was a kid and couldn't stand him the most.

And backing him was the Old Duke, someone even the Emperor had to tread lightly around, so he wasn't scared of Wang Weisheng at all.

So Cheng Yi became his kryptonite.

Ever since they were kids, Wang Weisheng had always been one-upped by Cheng Yi, never winning a single fight.

It was only after Cheng Yi left the capital for a year that he finally got a year of peace. Who'd have thought Cheng Yi would come back, and not just that—he's being called the "Little War God"?

"Screw this 'Little War God'—I seriously think the Cheng family pulled some strings. All that crap about bravery and strategy? It's just whatever Grand General Cheng says goes."

As everyone knew, Grand General Cheng was Cheng Yi's own eldest uncle. As long as he casually pinned some military merits from those around him on Cheng Yi, who would dare object?

He didn't believe Cheng Yi had that kind of skill, nor did he believe Cheng Yi could actually step onto a battlefield and kill enemies. They were all raised in luxury at home—Cheng Yi, especially, was the Old Duke's precious treasure. Would they really let him endure that kind of hardship?

The crowd chimed in that Young Master Wang made a valid point.

But at that moment, a thunderous crash rang out.

The door to the private room was kicked open with a single blow.

Everyone screamed and scrambled away in panic, wine and food scattering across the floor. Wang Weisheng was drenched in soup and grease, looking utterly pathetic.

"Who!" Wang Weisheng trembled with rage. "Which reckless bastard..."

His voice cut off abruptly as he saw Cheng Yi standing over him, eyes like shattered ice, yet carrying a hint of playful mockery.

"Wang the little dog, missed me after a year apart?"

Tonight, he had come specifically for this scum.

==========Author's Note:==========

Cheng Yi: Surprised? Didn't expect that, did you?