I am invincible, that's why I lie down. You're using your entire clan to rebel?

Chapter 205 If I weren't the emperor, perhaps I would be a wandering swordsman.

Qin Mu's hand firmly supported Liu Bai's arm, his strength gentle yet firm.

This prevented the old man, who had just exhausted all his strength and was now breathing heavily, from collapsing.

Liu Bai raised his head and looked at the face in front of him that was too young, yet unfathomable.

The moonlight shone down again from behind the dissipating dust, illuminating Qin Mu and giving the faint halo around him a silver edge.

He stood there, his moon-white robe still bearing the golden dust that had fallen when the sword intent shattered.

It is slowly dissipating now, like the fading glow of the sunset.

Liu Bai looked at him, a complex light flashing in her eyes.

"you……"

He spoke, his voice hoarse, and traces of blood from the backlash of the sword intent still lingered at the corners of his mouth.

"You're not going to kill me?"

This question was direct, yet sincere.

According to the rules of the martial arts world, the life and death of the loser are decided by the winner.

His sword strike, delivered with all his might, was a life-or-death struggle.

If Qin Mu were to kill him for this, he would have no grounds for complaint.

But Qin Mu did not.

Not only did they not help him, they also caught him.

They even said they wanted to go for drinks together.

This left Liu Bai feeling a sense of unprecedented confusion.

He has lived a long life and seen too many people.

Some fight for fame and fortune, some risk their lives for hatred, and some die for righteousness.

But he had never seen such a person before—

Despite being powerful enough to crush everything, they remain calm and collected.

He could have easily decided whether to let him live or die, but instead, he reached out and helped him up.

Qin Mu looked at him and smiled gently.

That smile was gentle, as gentle as a spring breeze.

"Kill you?"

He repeated those two words, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Mr. Liu, we have no grudge against each other, why would I want to kill you?"

He paused, a hint of genuine appreciation flashing in his eyes:

"Besides, your sword is worth a cup of wine."

Liu Bai's pupils contracted slightly.

It's worth a drink.

These five words moved him more than any praise he had ever heard in his life.

He was a sword fanatic, obsessed with swords his entire life.

In his youth, he challenged all the masters in the world, seeking only to be defeated, but to no avail.

In his middle age, he retreated to the mountains and forests to devote himself to the study of swordsmanship, all in order to reach that elusive and higher realm.

In his later years, he lived in seclusion at the ferry crossing, no longer concerning himself with worldly affairs, and keeping only his sword as his companion.

He thought that this was how his life would end.

He died of old age in the mountains and forests, taking his unfinished swordsmanship with him as he turned to dust.

But tonight—

He met Qin Mu.

This young man, with the strength of a single finger, broke his simultaneous attack of three swords.

With the power of a single shot, he shattered his Dao sword.

It was the first time he truly understood what it meant to be "as awe-inspiring as a mountain".

It also allowed him to find a goal to pursue for the first time.

"it is good."

Liu Bai spoke, his voice still hoarse, but much calmer than before.

He reached out his hand, a hand covered in calluses and slightly deformed from years of wielding a sword, and grasped Qin Mu's outstretched hand.

The moment their hands clasped, he felt the warmth of that hand and the power hidden deep within its palm, a power capable of destroying everything.

The last trace of resentment in his heart dissipated.

It's not shameful to lose to someone like that.

Qin Mu helped him up, and the two walked downstairs together.

After taking two steps, Qin Mu suddenly stopped and looked back at the end of the corridor.

There, Yunluan still stood by the door, her hand on the hilt of her sword, like a silent shadow.

"Yunluan," Qin Mu called out, "come here too."

Yunluan was slightly taken aback.

"His Majesty……"

"Come here," Qin Mu repeated, his tone leaving no room for doubt, yet carrying a gentle tone.

Yunluan remained silent for a moment.

Then, she released her hand from the hilt of the sword and followed after him.

She didn't say anything, but quietly followed three steps behind Qin Mu.

Those sharp eyes still vigilantly scanned their surroundings, but now they held a sense of reassurance that only Qin Mu could understand.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Qin Mu stopped again and looked back at the half-open door.

A sliver of dim candlelight shone through the crack in the door.

In the candlelight, a slender figure could be vaguely seen, clinging tightly to the window frame as it stood there.

A hint of appreciation flashed in Qin Mu's eyes.

This Empress Li Yang is truly tough.

Under such pressure from the sword intent, ordinary people would have already knelt on the ground, not daring to even raise their heads.

But she gritted her teeth and persevered.

She didn't kneel, she didn't fall, she didn't show him a trace of weakness.

"Your Majesty," Qin Mu spoke, his voice not loud, but clearly carried into the room, "won't you come down and have a drink with me?"

There was a moment of silence in the room.

Then, Zhao Qingxue's clear, cold voice rang out, slightly hoarse, yet still stubborn:

"No need."

Qin Mu smiled and did not insist.

He turned around and continued walking downstairs.

The moon-white robe trailed down the stairs, making a soft rustling sound.

Yunluan followed closely behind, her figure in black tight-fitting clothes appearing like a shadow in the dim light.

Behind him, Liu Bai staggered a little, but forced himself to keep up.

His gaze remained fixed on Qin Mu's retreating figure.

In those eyes, there was inquiry, curiosity, and a long-lost...thrill.

.......

Downstairs, in the lobby.

The candlelight was bright, and the warmth was like spring.

As Qin Mu descended the stairs, this was the scene that greeted him—

The largest eight-immortal table in the center of the hall was already full of food and wine.

Steaming hot stewed pheasant, golden and crispy roasted lamb leg, fragrant steamed river fish, and several delicate side dishes.

In the very center, there is a blue and white porcelain wine jar, the mouth of which is sealed with a red cloth, on which are written the words "Thirty-year aged Zhuyeqing".

The aroma of wine wafted from the mouth of the jar, mingling with the fragrance of the dishes, filling the entire hall.

The proprietress stood by the table, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, her head bowed, trembling.

Her face was still deathly pale, her lips were still blue, and her body was still trembling like a leaf.

But she still stood there, trying her best to appear respectful and submissive.

The diners were no longer relaxed as they had been.

They knelt or sat, huddled around a few tables in the corner of the hall, their faces ashen, barely daring to breathe.

Especially the scholars who had been talking in hushed tones just moments before, now huddled together, wishing they could bury themselves in the wall.

Only those two burly men were gone.

The remaining one was kneeling in the far corner, his forehead touching the ground, his whole body trembling so badly it felt like it was about to fall apart.

The moment Qin Mu stepped down the stairs—

All eyes turned to him.

In that gaze, there was fear, there was awe, there was an instinctive submission to the unknown.

Qin Mu seemed oblivious to these gazes.

He simply walked over to the octagonal table and sat down in the main seat.

Then, he looked at Liu Bai and pointed to the seat opposite him.

"Mr. Liu, please."

Liu Bai looked at him, then at the table laden with food and wine, and at the trembling proprietress.

He suddenly laughed.

That smile carried a hint of self-deprecation and a touch of relief.

"Okay," he said.

He sat down opposite Qin Mu, his gray beard and hair gleaming softly in the candlelight.

Yunluan walked to Qin Mu's side, intending to stand behind him as usual to keep watch, but Qin Mu reached out and pulled her down to the seat next to him.

"Sit down," Qin Mu said, his tone authoritative yet gentle.

Yunluan glanced at him but did not refuse.

She sat down beside Qin Mu, her back still straight, her hand still on the hilt of her sword, but she seemed a little more relaxed than before.

Qin Mu's gaze fell on the proprietress.

The proprietress's body trembled even more violently, and she could barely stand.

"Come here," Qin Mu said in a calm tone.

The proprietress felt as if she had been granted a pardon and quickly moved to the table. At Qin Mu's signal, she sat down timidly in the last seat.

She only sat on one side of her buttocks, ready to get up and run away at any moment.

Qin Mu ignored her.

He reached out and slapped open the seal of the jar of Zhuyeqing liquor.

With a soft "pop," the aroma of the wine instantly filled the air, so rich it was almost intoxicating.

He picked up the wine jar, poured a bowl for Liu Bai first, then poured one for himself, and finally poured one for Yun Luan as well.

Yunluan stared at the bowl of amber-colored wine in front of her, slightly taken aback.

She never drinks alcohol.

As the leader of the Dragon Shadow Guard, she must remain alert at all times and never allow herself to fall into any state that could get out of control.

But at this moment, Qin Mu personally poured her the wine...

She picked up the bowl and took a small sip.

The liquor enters the throat, warm and spicy, with the unique fragrance of bamboo leaves, burning from the tip of the tongue all the way to the stomach.

A slight blush rose to her cheeks.

Qin Mu couldn't help but smile when he saw her like this.

Then, he picked up his bowl and looked at Liu Bai.

"Mr. Liu," he said, "we've become friends today through this little misunderstanding, so I'll offer you a bowl of wine."

Liu Bai looked at him, then at the wine bowl in front of him.

He picked up his bowl and gently tapped it against Qin Mu's bowl.

A soft "clang" rang out, unusually clear in the silent hall.

Then, the two of them tilted their heads back at the same time and drank it all in one gulp.

The liquor is spicy yet mellow upon entering the throat.

Liu Bai put down the bowl, let out a long breath, and a look of satisfaction flashed in his eyes.

"Good wine," he said.

Qin Mu smiled and poured him another cup.

"Mr. Liu," he began, his tone casual as if chatting about everyday matters, "what have you been searching for your whole life?"

Liu Bai was slightly taken aback.

He looked at Qin Mu, at that young and handsome face, and suddenly felt that the question was very profound.

He remained silent for a moment before slowly speaking:

"sword."

In short, it's simple and straightforward.

"I have lived my entire life for the sword."

His gaze fell on his hands, those hands covered in calluses and slightly deformed from years of holding a sword.

"In my youth, I was obsessed with swords, and I traveled everywhere to challenge the best swordsmen in the world, seeking only to be defeated."

"But those so-called masters can't even last three moves against my sword."

A bitter smile appeared at the corner of his mouth:

"Later I realized that it wasn't that I was too strong, but that those masters were too weak."

"They practice swordsmanship for fame, fortune, power, and to survive in this martial world."

"But I practice swordsmanship only because—"

He looked up at Qin Mu, his eyes flashing with a light he had never shown to anyone before:

"I like it."

"I love the clear sound of a sword being drawn, the whistling sound of its blade cutting through the air, and the feeling of resonating with heaven and earth when the sword's intent surges forth."

"I don't know if this counts as the Dao, I only know—"

"Without a sword, I cannot live."

He spoke calmly, as if he were stating something perfectly ordinary.

But Qin Mu could tell.

Beneath that calm lies a sword fanatic, with the purest and deepest love for swords.

Qin Mu picked up his wine bowl and offered him another bowl.

"Okay," he said, "because I like it."

Liu Bai was slightly taken aback, then smiled.

That smile held a sense of relief, contentment, and the joy of finding a kindred spirit.

"For the sake of liking it," he repeated, tilting his head back to drink it all.

The two of them drank from bowl to bowl like that.

After several rounds of drinks and five courses of food,

A flush of alcohol rose on Liu Bai's face, but the light in his eyes grew brighter and brighter.

He looked at Qin Mu and suddenly asked:

"And why do you practice swordsmanship?"

Qin Mu paused slightly in the hand holding the wine bowl.

He looked at Liu Bai, at the pure and curious light in his eyes, and suddenly a question came to mind.

A question he had never seriously considered.

Why does he practice swordsmanship?

Or rather, why does he possess such strength?

It's because of the system.

It's because of time travel.

It's because of the rewards earned from checking in.

But what if there is no system?

What if he were just an ordinary person?

Will he still practice swordsmanship?

Qin Mu remained silent for a moment.

Then he smiled.

There was a hint of emotion in that smile that even he himself was unaware of.

"If I weren't the emperor," he said, with a hint of self-mockery in his voice, "perhaps I would also be a wandering swordsman."

Liu Bai raised an eyebrow.

Qin Mu continued, his gaze falling on the deep night outside the window:

"Wandering the world with a sword, seeking vengeance and justice."

"When you encounter injustice, draw your sword and strike it down."

"When you encounter injustice, take up your sword and right it."

"If you're tired, let's find a tavern and have a drink."

"If you get drunk, just lie on the mountaintop and watch the stars."

"He's awake. Let's continue on our journey."

He paused, a longing he himself didn't even realize appeared at the corner of his lips:

"Those kinds of days might not be so bad."

After listening, Liu Bai remained silent for a long time.

He looked at Qin Mu, at this young man who clearly possessed supreme power yet yearned for the martial world.

A complex light flashed in his eyes.

"A person like you," he finally spoke, his voice a little hoarse, "should not be trapped in the palace."

Qin Mu looked at him and smiled gently.

"Perhaps," he said, "but some paths are destined to be taken from birth."

He picked up the wine bowl and drank it all in one gulp.

Then, he looked at Liu Bai, a sincere glint in his eyes:

"However, I am very satisfied tonight to drink with Mr. Liu like this."

Liu Bai looked at him and smiled.

"Me too," he said.

The two looked at each other and smiled, then raised their bowls at the same time.

He poured another full bowl of wine, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp.

The proprietress sat at the end of the table, watching all of this with trepidation.

She watched Qin Mu and Liu Bai drink, watched them chat, watched them laugh.

The immense fear in my heart is gradually subsiding.

Instead, she experienced an emotion she had never felt before.

In awe.

Respect for the strong.

Awe of that pure and sincere emotion.

She has seen too many people.

There are hypocritical merchants, treacherous江湖客 (jianghu ke, a term referring to people from all walks of life who travel the world), and powerful and influential figures.

But she had never seen anyone like this before—

Despite being powerful enough to crush everything, it remains remarkably peaceful.

They could have easily decided her life or death, but they didn't.

They just let her sit there and watch them drink.

Her eyes had become moist without her noticing.

It wasn't fear, but rather an indescribable feeling of being moved.

The diners in the corner gradually relaxed.

They watched the people drinking at that table, the young man in the moon-white robe, and the old man in the gray robe chatting and laughing.

The immense fear in my heart is gradually being replaced by awe.