Chapter 127 Nonsense

Chapter 127: Spouting Nonsense

Cheng Ge drew the dagger, spun it in his palm, and felt its lightness—perfect for self-defense.

He smugly tucked it into his sleeve pouch and was about to stand up when the sound of hooves reached his ears.

At the head of the group was Zhao Yan, the Commander of the Eastern City Military Command. Presumably, someone had already sent word.

Seeing the scene before him, Zhao Yan's heart skipped a beat. He quickly reined in his horse and dismounted.

Zhao Yan hurried over to Cheng Ge, bowed in greeting, and looked over the "corpses" lying haphazardly around. His head started pounding.

"Lord Cheng, what's going on here?" He turned to Cheng Ge and asked.

Cheng Ge got up slowly, clasped his hands in a bow, and said, "Commander Zhao, these people are the Northern Di envoy delegation."

Zhao Yan: "..." I know that, but is that the point?

"Why is this Northern Di guy lying on the ground?"

Cheng Ge looked as if he just realized something and began to spout nonsense again.

"Oh... it's like this. Brother Zhao, let me explain.

You know, our Great Zhou is vast, rich in resources, and teeming with talent.

This Northern Di fellow just arrived in Great Zhou and has never seen much of the world.

I happened to buy some Guanghan cakes from Wanfu Tower today. When this guy saw them, he thought they were super unusual and asked me for a bite..."

Zhao Yan's mouth twitched a few times, but he still played along: "And then?"

"Heh! Coming from that little place of theirs, where could they have ever tasted anything good?

He only had two bites and passed out from how good it smelled."

Zhao Yan: "..." What am I even supposed to say?

"And what about the face?" Zhao Yan's eyes fell on the clear handprint on the scarred man's face, and he felt his own face sting in sympathy.

"Oh... let me explain in detail. You know how the Northern Di are all about martial arts.

And our Great Zhou has a legendary martial arts technique known as the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms. You've heard of it, right?"

Zhao Yan's eyes twitched. He looked at Cheng Ge, his brain a bit fried. "Have I... heard of it... or not?"

Seeing that he didn't reply, Cheng Ge turned to the subordinates behind him and winked at them.

"You don't know about the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms either, do you?"

The men behind him exchanged glances and then started nodding like crazy.

"Of course we've heard of it! It's just... those eighteen palms, right?"

Cheng Ge gave them a quiet thumbs-up. No wonder they were Great Zhou civil servants—their minds were sharp.

"And so this guy insisted on seeing the move himself!

Alas, our glorious nation is a land of propriety. We usually convince people with reason and rarely resort to violence."

Cheng Ge sighed as he spoke, then slowly crouched down in front of the scarred man.

"But this guy wouldn't let it go. Seeing that I wouldn't do it, he insisted on slamming his face into my palm.

I had nowhere to back away, nowhere to dodge, so I had no choice but to reluctantly grant his crazy request."

Cheng Ge finished speaking, his gaze sweeping over the gathered civilians, a pitiful expression on his face. "Don't you think so?"

The crowd: "..."

Listening to these outrageous claims, everyone thought it was ridiculous.

But since Cheng Ge was one of their own, they couldn't let their side down.

"Ah... yes, yes! Lord Cheng is right, that's exactly how it was!"

"That's right! I saw it too!" The surrounding crowd began shouting in agreement.

The Northern Di men nearby: "???"

"This..." Zhao Yan felt that no one understood how to win the crowd better than Cheng Ge.

Seeing that Zhao Yan still seemed skeptical, Cheng Ge raised his hand and slapped the scarred man again.

The scarred man woke up groggily, opening his eyes to see Cheng Ge's hand raised right in front of his face.

"Am I right?"

The scarred man swallowed hard. He had a strong feeling that if he denied it, this slap would kill him on the spot.

"Yes..."

"See, he admits it himself." Cheng Ge stood up and helplessly spread his hands toward Zhao Yan.

Zhao Yan felt his whole worldview was shaken. He turned to look at the Northern Di guy in skimpy clothes.

"And that..."

Cheng Ge reached out, threw an arm around Zhao Yan's neck, and started steering him away.

"That's their traditional attire. Maybe they find it cooler this way.

Let's not be narrow-minded, Lord Zhao. We should respect cultural differences.

See, it's already past clock-out time, and you're still handling official business. Not many officials are as dedicated as you.

Back when I was at the Hanlin Academy, I heard a lot about you, Lord Zhao.

Now that I finally meet you, you're the Lv Bu of men and the Red Hare of horses.

Today, you must do me the honor, brother, and join me for a drink..."

Zhao Yan was swept away by Cheng Ge's sweet talk and, against his better judgment, let himself be led toward the tavern.

"Hey... stop right there!" Before they could get far, the two Northern Di men hurried after them.

Hearing their voices, Cheng Ge slowly turned around, his eyes icy cold, as if they could pierce through a person.

The two men felt their hearts tremble under Cheng Ge's gaze and involuntarily stepped back.

One of them hesitated for a moment, then gathered his courage and said: "You... you got the guts to give us your name?"

Cheng Ge's lips curled slightly, revealing a cold smirk.

He gently tilted his head, lifted his chin, exuding unbridled arrogance.

"Listen carefully!" Cheng Ge's voice was not loud, but carried an unquestionable authority.

"I'm your granddaddy, and I never hide my name. I am Vice Minister Xie Mingyuan of the Dali Court! Don't you forget it!"

With that, he deliberately raised his hand and jabbed the other man in the shoulder, his words dripping with provocation.

The crowd: "..."

Cheng Ge showed not a shred of shame. After delivering his threat, he immediately draped his arm around his new buddy and swaggered away.

As night deepened, a figure staggered into the gate of the prince's mansion.

Cheng Ge carried half a jug of green plum wine in his hand, his steps unsteady, humming a tuneless ditty under his breath.

Dahuang spotted Cheng Ge and ran up excitedly, spinning in circles.

Cheng Ge slowly crouched down and patted the dog's head. Dahuang wagged its tail and licked his hand.

Just then, an anxious voice came from the side—the butler's.

"Young master, where have you been this time? And you've been drinking again."

Cheng Ge squinted, seeing a blurry figure in front of him. He let out a soft burp, his face flushed with drunkenness.

He raised the wine jug for another swig, stared at the butler for a few moments, swayed a couple of steps, then suddenly burst out laughing.

"Cui Ji, how did you catch me again? Are you a ghost?"

The butler looked helpless. "Young master, I am not the prince. You've mistaken me for the prince.

Put down the wine and go rest in your room." He reached for the jug in Cheng Ge's hand.

But Cheng Ge dodged nimbly, hugging the jug tightly to his chest, the corners of his eyes red as rouge. "You're not Cui Ji, so I'm not drinking with you..."

With that, he staggered inside, muttering under his breath, "Cui Ji, come out and drink with your dad until we're both hammered."

The butler: "..."