"I lost,"
"Completely defeated..."
The youth uttered each phrase, piercing Zu Qianqiu's heart. If it were any other time, he would have been overjoyed to make friends over wine.
But at this moment, it was a contest over drinking, which left him, a wine lover, unable to utter a single word in rebuttal.
Such words that struck to his core were like a knife twisting in his heart, as if they'd punctured his bulging stomach, letting a lifetime's worth of wine flow away, leaving a void filled with emptiness and desolation.
"Why?"
Zu Qianqiu looked at Zhao Rong with eyes as if he'd seen a ghost. There had only ever been elders of the Jiuguo, so where did this "young lad of Jiuguo" come from?
Did he grow up steeped in wine jars?
"Zhao, it is you who have won."
Zu Qianqiu sighed, "The Yellow River Elder will leave Hengyang forthwith, all past grievances dissolved, and will never trouble Zhao or the Hengshan Sect again."
