Chapter 1528 - 820: Blocking Jealousy (Extra Chapters 3 and 1)_2

"Let me get you another bowl."

"No, I can't drink much, it's a waste."

"Then let's get an extra bowl." With that, Chen Yi asked the proprietress for an empty bowl.

Miss Donggong couldn't stop him in time, and the bowl was already brought to the table. She turned her eyes around playfully.

As Chen Yi drank his milk tea, he watched the acrobatics in the West Market with idle boredom. The milk tea was salty, paired with puffed rice. It felt more like drinking porridge than tea... thinking this way made it more acceptable.

His gaze casually scanned another crowd across the street. It didn't seem like they were performing monkey tricks or smashing stones. The shouts were short and powerful, interspersed with the sharp sound of weapons cutting through the air, as if it was a martial arts performance. Such acts were not uncommon in Chang'an Li, often performed by fallen Martial Artists or Jianghu troupes, wielding swords and staves to earn some tips.

He only glanced casually, his eyes catching a glimpse of a figure wielding a long weapon through a gap in the crowd.

Hmm?

The hand holding Chen Yi's bowl paused slightly, and he raised an eyebrow. From a distance, amidst the flickering lamplight and bustling shadows, he couldn't see clearly, but he felt that the figure holding the spear looked somewhat familiar.

Was he mistaken?

He focused, set down the bowl, and looked more carefully through the noisy crowd.

In the middle was an elderly man with graying hair, age seeming to be at least seventy or eighty. Yet, his posture was upright and showed no sign of hunchedness. He held a long spear made of white wax wood, the tip tied with a red tassel, performing a vigorous spear routine. Stab, thrust, sweep, clash, coil, circle, block, seize, pounce, point, flick... the moves were distinct and the force steady, not just for show. More remarkably, despite his gray hair and beard, his eyes were clear and focused. When he wielded the spear, his breath was long and steady, his spirit vibrant, not like an old man of advanced age.

No, only an old man could perform with such a spear.

Year with the sword, month with the staff, lifetime with the spear.

Wasn't that... Li Wenhu?

Chen Yi was astonished, not expecting to meet him here. It was something from his time in the Capital City, many years ago, and he could no longer recall Li Wenhu's face, only vaguely remembering him as an old man, as if their last meeting was thousands of pages ago in a novel.

Thinking of this old man, Chen Yi only remembered that in his eyes, spear skills and Jianghu rules were greater than the sky.

Hadn't he secluded himself after cleaning up his doorstep, adhering to Jianghu rules, retiring to his hometown, no longer attending worldly matters, and was long unheard of in Jianghu? Everyone thought he had gone to some scenic place to retire.

Why would he appear in Chang'an, and even performing on the street?

Chen Yi was puzzled. With Li Wenhu's reputation and the wealth he had accumulated, he should not have fallen to the point of street performing.

In the center, a spear routine had been completed. The old man stood with the spear, breathing steadily, and cupped his hands towards the surrounding audience, who erupted in applause. But few actually bought tips to throw into the battered copper gong; most just watched for fun, called out a few appreciative words, and then left, or turned to the more thrilling chest-smashing stone act nearby.

A few copper coins landed in the gong, making an empty, light sound.

The old man's face remained expressionless, as if accustomed to it. He just silently walked to the side, where a dusty-faced boy handed him an old gourd to drink from.

After drinking, Li Wenhu gently patted the boy's head, his eyes full of affection.

Chen Yi watched, his gaze slightly withdrawing.

This is Jianghu, where reputation is like smoke. Today's honored guest, tomorrow's roadside dust. He had no intent to probe why Li Wenhu was here; everyone has their path and hardships.

Just as he was watching, he suddenly heard a crack behind him.

"Ah, it fell!"

Donggong Ruoshu looked innocent, the ground covered with the broken empty tea bowl.

"I accidentally leaned on the table, and it slipped off," she explained softly as Chen Yi looked over.

This noise alerted the proprietor, who glanced over and said, "It's alright, it's alright, I'll clean it up."

Chen Yi nodded, feeling embarrassed to ask for another bowl after breaking it, especially with Miss Donggong being so clumsy. He thought it over, then took out a small piece of broken silver from his sleeve, weighing about two to three taels, not much, but enough for an ordinary family for a month or two. He didn't walk over himself but beckoned the tea shop owner instead.

The owner was an honest man, waving his hand, and jogged over, "No need to pay, no need to pay."

"It's not compensation," Chen Yi handed him the piece of broken silver, pointed to the martial arts performing circle across the street, and whispered, "Please, sir, toss this into the old performer's copper gong quietly and return."

The owner was startled for a moment, looked at the silver, then at the unnoticed old Martial Artist across the street, and without asking more, took the silver and quickly crossed the street.

Chen Yi then took out another smaller piece of broken silver, placing it on the table before him, as a reward for the owner's errand running.

Having done all this, he picked up the milk tea bowl again, sipping it slowly.

Not long after, the tea shop owner returned, nodded to Chen Yi, and whispered, "Sir, it's done."

The owner conveniently collected the small reward on the table and left.

Chen Yi merely nodded slightly, not saying a word.

An encounter by chance, a passerby in Jianghu.

Each has their destiny, their path, no need for more words, let's meet again if fate allows.

Over there, the old man seemed surprised by the sudden addition of broken silver in the gong, glanced towards the tea shop. Chen Yi angled his body, lowered his head to drink the milk tea, not meeting his gaze.