Near Sichuan's official road, there was a small tavern named 'Xinghua Village'. It was said that the most common name for a village in the whole territory of Great Liang was 'Xinghua Village'. Whenever there was a place that served liquor, eight out of ten of these were called 'Xinghua Village'.

A young man gently lifted the curtain and entered.

He was about twenty, donning an old robe, dressed like a poor student. Despite that, he appeared to be very handsome, bearing with him a kind of sharpness - he had a high nose bridge as if carved out by a knife, his eyes were slightly deep resembling cold stars, yet he did not give off an aura of being aggressive or fear-provoking, but instead appeared gentle and mellow.

One's eyes would brighten as they took their first glance at him, not feeling bored even as they admired him for a long time, instead, one could even make out a hint of distance that was hard to describe with words.

The tavern was very small, even a large dog had to bend over when entering through the door. There were only two tables inside, and both were already full today.

The shopkeeper, who also worked as a waiter and a cashier, was currently playing with his abacus for the lack of better things to do. His gaze was involuntarily attracted to this young man, he silently praised 'how handsome' then put his hands together to greet: "Customer, sir, my apologies. Coincidentally, there are no seats left, but there is still another place to stay within five miles, perhaps you could check there?"

The scholar did not get angry: "I am only a little thirsty in my travels, may I trouble the shopkeeper to fill a jug of good wine for me? I don't need to sit down."

The shopkeeper took his jug, and when he opened the lid, a strong scent of wine raised up: "Zhu Ye Qing, very good."

A guest at one of the tables volunteered: "This young master, please come here to rest, you can sit at my place."

The scholar did not refuse, he replied with a 'thank you'.

Still not waiting for him to sit down, he could already hear someone at the table next to him speaking: "What are you all arguing about? I think the current Emperor is very good. What is so wrong about taking control? Allow me to say a few disrespectful words: the man who did not manage anything, if not fasting and reading Buddha's scripture all day long, then mingling with the palace's occupants, is that a good emperor?"

The scholar didn't expect to come across people who were discussing politics even in this tavern. He looked up and saw an older man with his trousers rolled up, his hands were thick and his fingers were still stained with machine oil. It appeared that perhaps, he was a Mechanic of the lower grade.