The Demon Lords-Chapter 588 - 85 Excitement_1

The blind man tore at the flatbread in his hands, his attention focused on his surroundings, particularly the second floor. Several groups of people emerged from the guest rooms. Their steps were light and nimble, clearly indicating impressive lightness skill. Though their faces remained outwardly composed, their bodies were tensed, prepared for any sudden event.

The blind man sighed. He looked at the finely shredded pieces of flatbread he had just torn into his bowl and hesitated. He had originally intended to ask the innkeeper to add hot soup to it. It seemed that lingering downstairs any longer might be dangerous, yet he was somewhat reluctant to abandon his "handiwork."

The blind man wasn't one to stir up trouble, nor did he enjoy being nosy. So, in the end, he picked up his bowl, stood, and walked to the counter. Finding a waiter, he offered him a small piece of silver.

"Add soup, sprinkle some more scallions and cilantro, and send it to my room."

"Right away, sir! It'll be up in a moment."

Satisfied, the blind man clapped his hands together and ascended the stairs.

Meanwhile, downstairs, the ruffian who had earlier shouted "bastard" at the swordsman holding the baby, guffawed when he heard the swordsman himself admit to the term. "Brother, you're really owning that, aren't you? Did your woman run off with someone else, leaving you with a kid that isn't even yours as a keepsake?"

The swordsman didn't respond, as the child's cries in his arms had grown hoarse.

The swordsman asked a nearby server, "Do you have goat's milk?"

"Oh, esteemed guest, we don't keep that in stock. If you head further east, you might find some. I hear there was a battle there recently; goodness, they plundered countless cattle and sheep from the snow plains."

The swordsman shook his head, a hint of helplessness in his expression, and then asked, "Do you have rice congee?"

"One moment, esteemed guest. I'll have the kitchen prepare some right away."

"Hah, why bother with all that trouble? Just call a wet nurse with big breasts from the red-light district to feed the child, wouldn't that solve it?" the ruffian shouted again.

Someone at a nearby table chimed in, "There's no milk to be had in that 'field'."

"No matter, I'll go 'till the field' first, then come back to nurse this child, HAHAHAHA…"

The blind man, who had just reached the second floor from the stairs, shook his head slightly. This level of provocation is rather pathetic, stirring up animosity purely for the sake of it. How crude. The ways of people of the street were still too unrefined.

The blind man couldn't help but focus his attention on the group on the second floor, standing by the railing as if "keeping watch." This group was clearly a cut above, but, how to put it, still a bit too deliberate in their actions.

Instead, it was the swordsman, cradling the child and searching for food for it, who inexplicably piqued the blind man's anticipation. Whether it was a child or not, the blind man was indifferent. As for the specifics of the situation, he wasn't particularly concerned; he was merely a spectator, a blind spectator.

Downstairs, the swordsman was still clumsily trying to soothe the child. It was evident he had no experience with children; even the way he held the baby was incorrect. Yet, undeniable, despite his earlier admission of being a "bastard," he seemed genuinely concerned for the child.

The blind man yawned. It seemed that because the swordsman no longer responded, the instigator couldn't continue his provocations, and the "drama" below had reached a sort of impasse.

But soon, the ruffian who had started it all left his table, strode over, and roared, "Cry, cry, cry! All this crying is giving me a splitting headache! Get lost!"

With that, the ruffian reached out to grab the child.

The blind man shook his head and sighed. Ruined, utterly ruined. If you were going to resort to force directly, why all the pointless posturing before?

At that moment, the blind man clearly sensed the individuals near him silently sliding their hands into their sleeves.

Well then.

The blind man turned, pushed open his guest room door, and stepped inside. Then, from behind the door, he continued to "watch the show."

The ruffian's hand snatched the infant, taking it directly from the swordsman's grasp. It was rough, even reckless, but strangely, once in the ruffian's hands, the child stopped crying.

The swordsman looked slightly surprised, then a flicker of anger crossed his face. I tried to soothe you for so long, and you just kept wailing, yet you stop crying the moment someone else holds you? It was hard to say if the child simply disliked the swordsman or was merely bullying the weak and fearing the strong.

The ruffian, holding the infant, unwrapped the cotton swaddling, apparently inspecting the child's size.

Then, the ruffian bellowed at the swordsman, "Hey, this bastard of yours seems to take a liking to me! How about this, I'll raise this bastard for you."

With that, the ruffian turned and walked back, holding the child.

The swordsman remained seated, his thoughts unreadable.

Inside his room on the second floor, the blind man frowned slightly. Is this how it bloody ends? All that build-up, and this is what I get to see? Tedious, utterly tedious. If I'd known, I would have been better off going to bed early to prepare for my journey.

Just then, the server arrived on the second floor carrying the blind man's bowl of flatbread soaked in soup and knocked on his door.

"Come in."

The server entered attentively, placed the large bowl before the blind man—it was generously sprinkled with scallions and cilantro, looking quite appetizing.

Just as the blind man was about to begin eating, the door was pushed open again, and an old man entered, leading a young girl. The old man and young girl's attire was a touch more spirited than that of beggars, yet possessed an air of poverty compared to traveling merchants.

"Kind sir, my granddaughter is hungry, could you possibly…" The old man gestured towards the bowl of soaked flatbread in front of the blind man. They were here begging for food.

The little girl, too, put her index finger in her mouth, striking a pose that seemed to say, "I'm very cute, and I'm also a little hungry."

Truth be told, if it were anyone else, whether genuinely kind-hearted or harboring ill intentions, they might have given away the bowl of soaked flatbread; it wasn't worth much. But this particular bowl contained the blind man's "labor"; he had torn the bread into pieces himself, bit by bit.

The blind man retrieved some silver from his sleeve, placed it on the table, and said, "My apologies, I'm famished. Please take the young lady and get some food from the inn. With the remaining silver, you can get a room and rest."

At this juncture, anyone appearing here was unlikely to be an ordinary person. The blind man understood this well, so politeness was necessary.

Who would have thought the old man would shake his head and say, "No, no. One won't be able to eat in peace downstairs later, you see."

The old man sat down uninvited, took a chipped bowl from his robes, placed it on the table, and looked expectantly at the blind man. "Kind sir, take pity on this lonely old man and child. Ai, life is not easy."

The blind man tilted his hat up slightly, his eyes meeting the old man's gaze directly, and said, "Then please, old sir, take pity on this disabled man."

"…" the old man was silent.

"Oh, you're actually blind!" the young girl exclaimed in surprise. She then climbed onto a chair and said to the blind man, "When I saw you go upstairs earlier, I didn't realize at all that you couldn't see!"

The girl's voice was pleasant, full of life and clarity.

The blind man sighed and ladled a portion from his large bowl into the old man's chipped one.

"Thank you, kind sir, thank you." The old man immediately expressed his gratitude, pushing the bowl towards the girl. He then produced a pair of chopsticks from his sleeve and handed them to her. The girl, without ceremony, dug in, clearly very hungry.

Next, the old man took out a wine gourd from his robes, uncorked it, picked up the teacups that were placed upside down on the guest room table, and poured two cups of wine. He offered one to the blind man. "Kind sir, you fed my granddaughter; allow me to offer you a drink."

Unfortunately, the blind man was not a bold or unrestrained person. When it came to self-preservation, the blind man had always been on par with My lord, Zheng Fan.

"Thank you, old friend, but I need to rest soon as I have to travel. I'll pass on the wine."

"Afraid it's poisoned?" the old man asked with a smile.

"Yes."

"Fair enough. One must indeed be cautious when out and about." Saying this, the old man began to drink alone.

The blind man started to eat.

During this time, the situation downstairs had quieted down. The child the swordsman had brought in was taken by the ruffian, and the swordsman didn't try to get him back. Instead, he ordered food for himself and began to eat and drink. When the innkeeper brought the rice congee, the swordsman gestured towards the ruffian's table, and the innkeeper delivered the congee there.

Upstairs, after two cups of wine, a faint flush appeared on the old man's cheeks. He looked askance at the blind man and said, "Kind sir, are you aware that this place might not be peaceful today?"

The blind man shook his head. "It has nothing to do with me."

"Ai, you didn't drink my wine, so I still owe you a small favor. How about this: if anything happens later, I can ensure your safety."

Half a bowl of soaked flatbread in exchange for one's life was a good deal, but the blind man said instead, "Old friend, just sit here and don't go anywhere. I have some oranges here; you can peel and eat them slowly. As long as you don't leave this guest room, I can also ensure your safety."

The old man's brow furrowed slightly. For a moment, he couldn't quite tell if this "blind man" before him was joking or genuinely hinting at something. The street was a mixed bag: there were charlatans who thrived by spinning mystical tales, and there were truly formidable individuals hiding in plain sight, like dragons in fish clothing, wearing White Dragonfish Uniforms.

The young girl, however, revitalized after eating, called out to the blind man, "Hey, blind man, do you know who my grandfather is?"

The blind man, already lying on the bed, replied, "A master."

The girl was struck speechless. Introducing her grandfather's status was her favorite pastime; watching the listener's expression shift to surprise and then to flattery was so delightful. But this blind man didn't play along at all; he'd climbed the ladder before she even offered it!

"Ai," the old man sighed. "Kind sir, when one is part of the street, one often can't act as one wishes."

The blind man said no more, too tired to bother. He turned over, facing inwards, preparing to sleep, unconcerned that the old man and young girl had not yet left his room.

Just then, the quiet downstairs was shattered. The ruffian holding the child, along with several companions, stood up. They didn't even intend to feed the child the congee and were about to leave the post station.

Suddenly, a tall, sturdy woman stood up, patted her chest, and said, "I have milk. The child must eat something before traveling. If such a small baby goes hungry, it could lead to serious problems."

The ruffian holding the baby cursed, "Get lost and go nurse your own man!"

Saying this, he made to leave.

SWISH!

In an instant, the people around the woman drew their weapons and surrounded the ruffian and his group.

The ruffian, still holding the child, scanned his surroundings. He showed no fear, instead snorting coldly. "Oh-ho, looking for a fight, are we? Come on then! Grandpa here wasn't raised on fear!"

In the guest room on the second floor, the girl called out to the blind man, who seemed to have fallen asleep, "Hey, blind man, it's getting lively downstairs. Aren't you going to listen?"

The blind man waved his hand dismissively, indicating he couldn't be bothered to listen, though in reality, he was "watching" everything.

The girl, however, wouldn't give up. "Do you know who that shouting ruffian is? He's a renowned hero from Jin land, 'Decapitating Blade' Ding Heng, a Fifth Rank Martial Cultivator. His skill with the great blade is superb."

What a ridiculous name, the blind man rolled his eyes internally.

"Do you know who the woman who offered to nurse the child is? Her name is Cui Linfeng, second-in-command of West Water Village. She's skilled with mother-son flying daggers and also good at bearing children. They say she already has eight."

"Do you know…"

The blind man, annoyed, cut in directly, "Then do you two know who that man was who came in earlier holding the child?"

At these words, not only did the girl's eyes widen, but the old man also instantly turned to the blind man, his gaze filled with astonishment and suspicion. The guest room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop.

"If I told you, you might be frightened."

The old man couldn't help but swallow. The girl clenched her small fists.

The blind man, unhurriedly, added, "I don't know either."

"…" the old man was left speechless.