Chapter 3: The Defiant Li Mingzhu, The Drunken Xuanyuan Bow Draw
After Taiyi left, Li Mingzhu played with the Qiankun Ring and the Huntian Ribbon, a smile plastered across his face. These two spiritual treasures were inherently lively and didn't need him to recognize them as their master—they circled around him mischievously and joyously.
They were originally the spiritual treasures of Ling Zhu Zi, which made it exceedingly easy for Li Mingzhu to inherit them now.
"Li Mingzhu, do you realize your mistake?"
Li Jing turned sharply to lock his eyes on Li Mingzhu, his commanding aura radiating even in his silence.
"What mistake have I made?" Li Mingzhu retorted sharply, though deep down he had intended to speak amicably with his father, he found it impossible to soften his stance.
"Hmph! You've disrespected the Immortal Master, disregarded your elders—have you considered the consequences of offending Taiyi in such a manner?" Li Jing said coolly, his gaze piercing into Li Mingzhu's very soul like a blade.
But Li Mingzhu was unmoved. He hadn't feared Taiyi's imposing presence and certainly wasn't fazed by Li Jing's demeanor.
"Consequences?" Li Mingzhu questioned. He truly didn't believe offending Taiyi would result in anything catastrophic. What could Taiyi possibly do to him?
"Indeed, consequences! You may have a profound background and Saints backing you, but what about the citizens of Chentang Pass? What about your mother and me?" Li Jing spoke with a slightly softened voice, though still tinged with sternness.
"Yes, Father, your child admits his error," Li Mingzhu said as he lowered his head in acknowledgment, finally realizing that Li Jing's concerns were valid.
Although Taiyi was a core disciple of the Chan Sect, and likely wouldn't stoop to petty acts of revenge, it was undeniable that if he grew angry, it would indeed spell trouble—not just for the small Chentang Pass, but even for Li Jing himself.
After all, even a being like the Four Seas East King could threaten Chentang Pass so direly—how much more terrible would Taiyi be, with his superior cultivation?
If he had still been the original Nezha from before merging with Li Mingzhu, there was no doubt he wouldn't have backed down. But Li Mingzhu, having lived for hundreds of years and accumulated wisdom, understood Li Jing was not wrong.
"However, even so, I'd still make the same choice," Li Mingzhu added after his initial apology, pausing before continuing.
No matter the circumstances, he was resolute in his decision to refuse taking Taiyi as his teacher. Even in light of the worst possible consequences, he would not waver in his convictions.
"Unfilial son!"
Li Jing initially felt some relief, but upon hearing the latter part of Li Mingzhu's response, his expression soured, and he stormed off, clearly seeing him as an irredeemable disappointment.
"Son, it's okay. Your father just has a foul temper. But he wasn't wrong in what he said—yet neither were you. My son should be a great hero, standing tall and proud. How could he act as timid and restrained as your father?"
Lady Yin walked gently over, her gaze filled with maternal love as she stroked Li Mingzhu's head, whispering tenderly.
Her sentiment was clear: even if her son were wrong, in her eyes, he would still be right.
Sometimes, a mother's love is unwaveringly unreasonable. Li Mingzhu bobbed his head repeatedly as though pecking grain, thoroughly basking in her affection—having a mother's care truly made the world so much brighter.
Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, three months had passed since Li Mingzhu arrived in this world.
During these three months, Li Mingzhu wasn't idle. Not only had he refined the lingering strands of Creation Qi within his body, but he had also elevated his cultivation to the Primordial Spirit Realm.
The Primordial Spirit Realm, colloquially known as the state of a Land Immortal, represented the pinnacle of cultivation achievable in the Mortal World. Any further advancement would require entering an Immortal Land or ascending to the Heavenly Realm.
Most notably, his cultivation progress had finally allowed him to shed his diminutive childhood form—Li Mingzhu now appeared like a fourteen or fifteen-year-old youth. Of course, much of this transformation owed itself to the wondrous benefits of his Innate Taoist Body.
"Blooms of the fields, a jade-like gentleman emerges in the world—what grace in this young man." Such phrases now seemed a perfect fit to describe Li Mingzhu.
Yet these three months hadn't all been about cultivation—Li Mingzhu had dabbled in creating new things, such as distilling modern white liquor.
The wine of the Shang Dynasty was truly unpalatable—not only was it unbearably disgusting, but its alcohol content was shockingly low.
Perhaps the liquor brewed by Immortals wouldn't be as inferior, but the Mortal Realm's wine was undeniably poor, leaving Li Mingzhu no choice but to take matters into his own hands.
Since crafting this high-proof liquor, even Li Jing, who had once been quite critical of Li Mingzhu, now kept his mouth shut.
After all, if one wanted quality wine, one had to plead with the son—being a father wasn't always easy.
"Here, cheers!"
"Cheers!"
Under the moonlight, in Li Mingzhu's own small courtyard, a short and chubby Zhu Xiong held a wine cup in its tiny paws, drunkenly clinking glasses with Li Mingzhu.
Originally thinking the Zhu Xiong in Li Mansion was merely a fabricated tale of posterity, it turned out to be real—and had emerged from hiding lured by the scent of Li Mingzhu's wine.
It was practically a tiny Alcohol Immortal, capable of downing seventy-proof liquor by the hundred-bowl-full without ever getting drunk. In comparison, even Li Mingzhu could only bow to this little creature's prowess.
Bear in mind, despite Zhu Xiong's ability to speak and its natural mystical qualities, it had no cultivation. If Li Mingzhu couldn't use his mana to dissolve the alcohol's effects, even he would pale in comparison.
"Mingzhu, come, I'll show you someplace fun. Hic..."
The little fellow hiccupped drunkenly as it spoke.
"What good places could there possibly be? I've already scoured every nook and cranny of the General's Mansion." At this point, Li Mingzhu hadn't used his cultivation to nullify the effects of alcohol and was equally drunk.
"Follow me, just trust me. I promise you've never been there before."
Zhu Xiong, holding a bronze wine flask with one paw, hopped along enthusiastically as the guide, each leap seemingly on the verge of a tumble yet never actually falling.
"Fine, I'll trust you one more time," Li Mingzhu replied with a grin and followed suit.
It wasn't that Li Mingzhu didn't trust Zhu Xiong; the little rascal had simply never spoken anything resembling the truth.
Under the cover of night, the duo—a large figure and a small one—wound their way through the General's Mansion until Zhu Xiong led Li Mingzhu to a watchtower.
This was the highest point of the General's Mansion, and indeed of all of Chentang Pass.
"There, see? I bet you've never been here before." Zhu Xiong stood by the wall, exuding an air of pride, as though vindicating itself from accusations of deceit.
"Hmm, I guess I really haven't." Li Mingzhu admitted, as cool night winds swept over him, clearing his drunken haze slightly.
"There's treasure here. Shall we take a look?" Zhu Xiong whispered craftily, his grayish eyes gleaming with sly intelligence.
"What treasure?" Li Mingzhu asked.
"Follow me and find out." Zhu Xiong grinned mischievously.
"Lead the way," Li Mingzhu took a swig from his cup and laughed, curious about Zhu Xiong's antics.
After walking forward several dozen steps, they reached a small pavilion, with a large table inside. Something lay on the table, concealed under a black cloth.
"This is it. Be careful not to damage it—your old man's pretty fond of it," Zhu Xiong said in a hushed tone, all the while vigilantly scanning his surroundings.
"My miserly father has treasures worth a fuss? Let me take a look!" Li Mingzhu chuckled dismissively as he stepped forward and yanked off the black cloth.
As the cloth was removed, a burst of black-golden light shimmered briefly before fading away.
A colossal bow rested atop the table, next to which lay a black rosewood box that presumably stored arrows.
"It's just a tattered bow. What's so impressive about it?" Li Mingzhu scoffed. Clearly, he'd drunk quite a bit—otherwise, he'd instantly recognize the significance of this bow.
After all, others might not know its legacy, but Li Mingzhu, with his memories of a past life, certainly did.
"Heh, a tattered bow? Try pulling it—if you manage to draw it fully, I'll swear loyalty to you from now on." Zhu Xiong sneered, its expression full of mockery as it regarded Li Mingzhu as if he were some country bumpkin.
The Xuanyuan Bow—a mere tattered bow?
"What's so hard about that! Little rascal, remember your promise!" Li Mingzhu said dismissively with a bold grin.
Just a bow—divine artifact or not, pulling it wouldn't be a problem.
He strode forward decisively, opened the black rosewood box, took out one of three arrows, and mounted it on the bowstring.
To his surprise, he found himself unable to draw the bow on the first try. He tried channeling his mana but realized the bow was peculiar—it couldn't be activated with mana.
"Hah! Hmph!"
With a resounding roar, Li Mingzhu managed to draw the bow fully into a crescent moon shape.
"Monstrous! Freakish!"
Zhu Xiong stared at Li Mingzhu as though he were a creature from another world. This was the Xuanyuan Bow—an artifact requiring immense physical power to draw, incomparable in the mortal realm. Yet Li Mingzhu not only drew it but hit full draw.
"Whoosh!"
While Zhu Xiong was still marveling, Li Mingzhu released the arrow. The dark projectile shot forth like lightning, vanishing into the night sky, leaving only traces of glittering golden light in its wake.