The Peach Blossom Daoist had just staggered out from a tenant farmer's dwelling, drunk as a lord, his footsteps sloppy and belching from time to time.
He lifted his hand to his nose and took a fierce sniff, a sweet milky fragrance shooting straight up his nostrils.
The Peach Blossom Daoist let out a sleazy chuckle with a mouthful of big gold teeth shining, those false teeth he had had made by a master craftsman after that little bastard from Hidden Dragon Temple had knocked his out.
"So fragrant!"
"I'll come again tomorrow!"
Half of Rolling Stone Town belonged to his Spirit Wind View, and with a mix of lawful and illicit, overt and covert means, they had indeed annexed quite a bit of land over the years.
So what if he slept with one of his tenant farmers' new daughters-in-law?
After all, they depended on farming for the temple to have food to eat.
Gratitude was a virtue people should learn to express.
Don't bite the hand that feeds you.
