In his own eyes, Yan Qingdu was undoubtedly a genius.
In his family's eyes, Yan Qingdu was undoubtedly a good-for-nothing.
When Zhongli Yin heard the name of the Yan family's useless eldest young master, he imagined a dejected figure, curled up resentfully in a dark corner, consumed by loneliness, bitterness, or apathy.
"How could that be? I'm actually very easy to get along with." Yan Qingdu gave him a gentle smile. "Come on, drink this cup. Every last drop."
"I don't drink." Zhongli Yin clutched the drinking vessel called Never Full, which could hold a thousand jars of wine, and forced himself to stay calm, though he was terrified.
"That's strange. Your mouth hasn't been sewn shut. You can eat, drink water, and talk, but you can't drink wine?" Yan Qingdu spoke with the patient tone one might use with a mischievous child. "Stop joking around. Drink it, and you can have back the sword you stole during my sword-forging ceremony when I was ten, the one that kept me from completing the ceremony and earned me the name of good-for-nothing."
My dear, do you still remember the little monster next to "Taixu of the End of the World" eighteen years ago? Come back soon~ I can't bear it alone~
. . . . Dad, do you still remember Taixu in the end of the world?