Seizing his flask, Wen Kexing took a large swig from it, slanted a gaze at Zhou Zishu and smiled, saying, “The wine can’t be considered good wine, but the taste is truly...quite good, quite good.”

Zhou Zishu looked at him woodenly for a moment, then abruptly spurred the horse to move closer to him, and spoke right next to his ear, “Is this because my wife is unsated, and lonely at night? This husband has treated you poorly. Tonight, wash up and wait for me. I’ll call on you for sure…”

Lost in his fantasies as he listened, Wen Kexing’s hand closed around empty air--the wine flask had been nicked right back.

Mimicking his actions, Zhou Zishu slanted a glance at him. The corners of his eyes were slightly long and narrow, but when his gaze drifted over, there was not one trace of bewitchment to it; instead, it had a sense of lively mischief. Smugly, he raised that wine flask and swirled it a few times in Wen Kexing’s direction, then took a large swig in satisfaction.

However, he suddenly felt something small and hard slide into his mouth. Pausing in alarm, Zhou Zishu spat that thing out, and nearly leapt from the horse’s back--it was a small chunk of walnut!

It made Zhou Zishu lose his appetite, as if it had not been a small chunk of walnut he spat from his mouth, but a chunk of human brain. Glaring at Wen Kexing furiously, he seethed, “You scumbag!”

Instantly, Wen Kexing put his hands together in a bow and replied humbly, “No, no, you’re too polite, you’re too polite!”

Face pale, Zhou Zishu pointed at him and said, "You…" He felt his stomach roil, repulsed at the thought, but simply could not stop his thoughts from veering towards the repulsive.

Leisurely, Wen Kexing came over to take his hand. Sticking his tongue out, he curled it over Zhou Zishu's palm, sweeping the small chunk of kernel away. He chewed a few times with relish, laughed, and said, “Husband, you’re already a grown adult. How can you be picky about food? This is too unbecoming.”

Silently, Zhou Zishu turned his face aside, and did not look at him. After a long while, he said faintly, “I want a divorce…”

Wen Kexing laughed uproariously.

Zhang Chengling watched these two old jokesters, his face blooming crimson and lush green. After a long while, he finally mustered up his courage, inched up to them, and stammered, “Shi-shifu, w-why are we going to Luo-luoyang?”

Zhou Zishu had not suppressed his disgust yet; glancing at Zhang Chengling with a pale face that was a little green, he said waspishly, “We’re going to find out who’s after your life.”

Zhang Chengling looked at him dumbly, mouth gaping, and asked, “Ah?”