After Xiaoliu set down the drinks, he stood to the side.
Chen Changsheng took a sip, and as he savored it, he noticed something different.
Although this was indeed Autumn Moon Brew, it lacked its usual depth.
He asked, “This brew wasn’t made by your Manager, was it?”
Xiaoliu stepped forward and replied, “Sir, the Manager oversaw the brewing.”
Hearing this, Chen Changsheng said, “So Old Man Zhang took you as his apprentice?”
Xiaoliu shook his head. “The Manager never formally took me as his apprentice. He found me and took me in. I usually just help out in the tavern. He gives me food and shelter.”
That explained why Old Man Zhang had held back a little.
Xiaoliu asked, “From your words, Sir, it seems like you are acquainted with our Manager?”
Chen Changsheng sipped his drink. “You could say that. I came to drink here often before.”
Xiaoliu nodded, then added, “You probably aren’t from Autumn Moon Market, right?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Not exactly. I have lived in Autumn Moon Market my whole life. I have seen everyone, from the Magistrate Master to the beggars on the street. But I have never met anyone with an air as distinguished as yours. That’s why I said so.”
Chen Changsheng chuckled self-mockingly. “An air? At best, I have a bit of a rogue air.”
Xiaoliu blinked. “But Sir, you really are different.”
Chen Changsheng raised his hand, about to speak.
But just then, an aged voice came from outside.
“Xiaoliu! Come help me carry the oil!”
Xiaoliu called back, then said to Chen Changsheng, “Please wait a moment, Sir.”
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Chen Changsheng nodded and didn’t say more.
He turned and saw an old man with grey hair walk into the tavern doorway. The man limped, seemingly troubled by an injury to his right leg.
“Manager, I’ll take that.”
Xiaoliu took the oil jar from the Manager and started carrying it inside.
Old Man Zhang handed over the jar, but when he looked up, his eyes fell on a familiar gourd resting on the tavern counter.
He paused, his body trembling slightly.
Xiaoliu said, “By the way, Manager, there’s a gentleman here who says he’s an old friend of yours.”
Hearing this, Old Man Zhang felt uneasy. His gaze shifted, landing on Chen Changsheng drinking inside the tavern.
Old Man Zhang’s legs seemed to buckle under him. He couldn’t move and saw stars dance before his eyes.
Chen Changsheng looked at Old Man Zhang in the doorway and said, “How’d that leg become stubborn?”
Old Man Zhang opened his mouth but didn’t speak. He started walking.
Unsure what was happening, Xiaoliu quickly set down the oil jar and rushed to support his Manager.
“Manager, careful now.”
Supported by Xiaoliu, Old Man Zhang approached Chen Changsheng.
“Sit down first,” Chen Changsheng said.
Old Man Zhang hesitated looking at Chen Changsheng, then sat.
Once seated, the fear actually faded. Instead, a rare joy began to glimmer in his eyes as he looked at Mr. Chen.
He answered, “Two winters ago, we had a heavy snow. My leg caught a cold ailment. It didn’t heal properly, so now it’s stiff.”
Chen Changsheng glanced down at it. “That’s just old age.”
Old Man Zhang nodded. “I am a Mortal, after all. Can’t compare to you, Sir.”
“That wasn’t quite what I meant,” Chen Changsheng smiled faintly. He glanced at the wine on the table. “When I left last time, I specifically told you to keep some brewed. Did you forget?”
Old Man Zhang assured him, “I didn’t forget. I kept some aside especially for you, Sir.”
He turned to Xiaoliu beside him. “Xiaoliu, go get that jug of Autumn Moon Brew from the cellar.”
Xiaoliu paused. “But Manager, didn’t you say…”
Old Man Zhang cut him off. “This gentleman is the very person I told you about.”
Xiaoliu glanced at the gentleman, feeling a bit stunned.
The Manager had an old friend ?
“Why are you hesitating? Go!” Old Man Zhang urged.
“I’ll go fetch it right away.”
Xiaoliu snapped back to reality and hurried off to get the wine.
Chen Changsheng watched Xiaoliu leaving and remarked, “You have good taste.”
Old Man Zhang gave a toothy grin. “Just happened by chance.”
Chen Changsheng asked, “How long has he been with you?”
“Counting it all, over two years now.”
“Yes. He’s learned pretty well.”
Chen Changsheng looked at him, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Learned pretty well? Or did you hold back a little teaching him?”
Old Man Zhang didn’t try to hide it. “Couldn’t hide it from you, Sir.”
“Well, ultimately, he’s not your own son. Holding something back is just how people are.”
Old Man Zhang seemed surprised. “I was afraid you would say it was wrong of me.”
“Why would it be wrong?”
Chen Changsheng retorted. “If I were you, I’d hold back too. Living to this age is no small feat. If an apprentice starts starving his own Master before the poor man even dies of hunger, the anger alone could probably finish the old timer off.”
Hearing this eased a longstanding weight in Old Man Zhang’s heart. He’d always felt troubled by his decision, blaming it on old age making him mean-spirited. But hearing it from Mr. Chen made it seem like just common sense, a thought he himself couldn’t untangle before.
Xiaoliu brought out the jug of wine that had been sealed for a long time. Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs novel✶fire.net
“Pour a flask for our table first,” Old Man Zhang instructed.
Then he added, “And refill Mr. Chen’s gourd.”
Xiaoliu nodded in acknowledgement, then started peeling the sealing paper off the jug to draw the wine.
A flask of Autumn Moon Brew was soon placed on the table.
Chen Changsheng took a sip, satisfaction spreading across his face. “Ah, yes! That’s the flavor!”
Xiaoliu offered, “The Manager himself brews one jug every year. When the year’s taste passes, he sells it, then starts brewing fresh.”
“Too much chatter!” Old Man Zhang scolded, giving him a cold glare. “Go tend to pouring the wine!”
Xiaoliu flinched and scurried away to fill the gourd.
Chen Changsheng chuckled. “It’s not like you committed some crime.”
Old Man Zhang clicked his tongue. “I worried, Sir. Felt if you knew, you might decide not to come drink anymore.”
Chen Changsheng’s smile widened. “Maybe I could have skipped coming some time. But now that you said that, I’ll have to show up just to prove you wrong.”
Old Man Zhang grinned broadly. “Would be overjoyed to have you come drink, Sir.”
Chen Changsheng downed a gulp, set the flask down, and fixed his gaze on Old Man Zhang. “You really aren’t scared of me anymore at all, are you?”
Old Man Zhang spoke plainly. “I felt a bit scared the moment I walked in and saw you today. Guess the habit’s stuck from previous years. But after sitting down, the fear just… vanished.”
“The older you get, the tougher you are. Seems true.”
“Not really toughness.”
Old Man Zhang took a deep breath. “I’m seventy years old now. In this world, living beyond sixty counts as a very long life. Here’s the thing: After you’ve lived long enough, things lose their flavor. All the old companions you once had walk one by one ahead of you on that road. Now… you’re the only one left, Mr. Chen.”
“In earlier years, seeing you mostly filled me with fear. But looking at you now… all I feel is happiness. Deep happiness at meeting an old friend.”
Hearing these words stirred a deep sadness within Chen Changsheng.
When loneliness fills a person’s heart to its rim, all the old fear and caution, even the trembling awe, finally dissolves away then.
All that remains is the sheer, overwhelming joy… of meeting an old friend you thought long gone.