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"Did your master ever tell you… that you are sick?" Grandma Xi’s enigmatic smile carried a trace of cunning.
Xue Qiming froze in an instant. The room fell into sudden silence, and the atmosphere grew tense.
The three others in the room turned to look. Grandfather Lan Zhuo furrowed his brows tightly, watching Xue Qiming with wary vigilance. Xue Niang’s delicate brows knit slightly, her eyes thoughtful. Only Grandma Xi maintained her same cunning expression, her gaze unfathomably deep.
Xue Qiming slowly narrowed his eyes, then suddenly broke into a carefree grin. "Sick? Does an addiction to alcohol count?"
Grandma Xi didn’t answer his question. Her gaze drifted downward, settling on the gourd at Xue Qiming’s waist. In a soft voice, she said, "That gourd wasn’t always used for holding wine…"
Xue Qiming tapped his fingers against the table, the rhythm unconsciously growing faster and faster.
"Metal from beyond the heavens, drawn from the boundless deep sea…" Grandma Xi’s voice was barely...
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