By now, you probably understand my intention: yes, I want to get Baozi drunk before watching Xiang Yu's decisive battle.
The problem was, it wasn't realistic to get two adults with a decent tolerance for alcohol drunk with just half a bottle of red wine, so I ended up opening several more beers, and Baozi and I started drinking, one glass after another. We usually have a few drinks when we go out to eat, but this was the first time we'd drunk like this. We seemed to say a lot of mushy things that we wouldn't normally say. The reason I say "seemed" is because... I got drunk before Baozi.
Chapter Thirty-Two: I am now invincible.
As the drinking progressed, I became unsteady, and in my drunken stupor, I checked my bag by the lamplight. Baozi stood up and said with concern, "Are you alright? Oh, now I realize, what on earth did we end up drinking like this?"
How embarrassing! A lesson learned the hard way: never try to outdrink a woman.
Baozi helped me to bed, cleared the food off the table, and then went back to his room to lie down. Exhausted from the day and under the influence of alcohol, he soon began to snore softly.
I couldn't sleep well because I had something on my mind. After hearing her fall asleep, I tiptoed out, grabbed a steamed bun from the kitchen, and quietly went downstairs.
Once on the street, I hailed a taxi, got in drunkenly, and said while munching on a steamed bun, "To... Chun Kong Shan Villa District."
The driver was a lean man with a buzz cut. When he heard where I wanted to go, he said somewhat reluctantly, "Why don't you change cars? It's almost time for me to return the car."
Without saying a word, I tossed 200 yuan onto the steering wheel. I know drivers generally don't like going to these places; the distance isn't the main issue, but they'll definitely have to drive back empty. If you charge them for both the outbound and return trips, they'd be more interested in taking you to the Cape of Good Hope.
Sure enough, the man stepped on the gas and drove off as soon as he saw how generous I was. Our car slowly cruised through the evening rush hour traffic. I glanced at my watch; it had taken me quite a while to knock down Baozi—or rather, to be knocked down by Baozi. I figured Xiang Yu had probably already started the fight.
I said to the driver, "Sir, can you hurry up? I'm in a real rush."
The man shrugged: "Honking the horn costs two hundred yuan, and speeding by 1,500 yuan. How can I possibly go fast?"
When I realized that he still wanted money, I slapped another 500 yuan on the windshield.
The man looked at the money and laughed, "Alright. Let's do a taxi delivery today."
The man parked his car on the side of the road, rubbing his hands together, eager to try it out. I looked at him curiously and asked, "What, are you going to change your steering wheel too?"
The man stuffed a cassette tape into the tape recorder. I thought it would be some upbeat music, but instead, it blared the roar of a racing car. Looking at him, his eyes lit up. He cracked his knuckles, shifted into second gear as soon as he started moving, then quickly pushed into third. Riding the roar of the racing car, he overtook dozens of cars, all the way through the intersection just before the red light turned on. Honestly, I'd never seen anyone drive that fast in the city before, especially a taxi.
I exclaimed in disbelief, "Master, are you really a former race car driver?" The phrase "An old steed in its stall may still aspire to gallop a thousand miles" kept replaying in my mind. It seems there really are many hidden talents among the common people.
The man chuckled and said, "It's not really a profession, just a hobby."
The sounds we're hearing now must be from his racing days. "Old soldiers never die, they merely retire"—perhaps only the precious melodies left behind from those days can rekindle the passion of this retired racing legend?
But there was one thing: besides the racing cars, I kept hearing strange "ding-ding" sounds coming from inside. I asked the man, "Master, what's that noise?"
The man listened for a moment and said, "Oh, that's eating gold coins."
I was taken aback: "...KartRider?"
Damn, I've really drunk too much. I'm not saying anything, just eating a steamed bun.
This playful driver told me, "If you want to drive fast, just imagine you're in a video game."
My face turned ashen. In the game, people can't die no matter how many times they crash into something, but in real life, my car's about to explode. Can a little black face really be the end of it?
Once we got on the highway, this guy's speed never dropped below 160 km/h. If he were like the guy in "Taxi," that would be fine, but this guy was driving a standard Citroën Fukang that hadn't been touched in a single screwdriver, and he acted like a cartoonish racer with a helmet and big, rolling eyes. I saw a bowling ball on his back seat, and I was genuinely worried he'd make me throw it as a bomb at the cars behind him.
I tried to reason with the driver: "Sir, could you slow down? The speeding limit is 1,500 km/h, and there's a camera up ahead..."
The man laughed: "It's alright, this is a car with fake plates—"
I threw up as soon as I got off the bus. This 700 yuan was a waste of time, and I even had to sober up. It was more exciting than bungee jumping.
The heroes all turned to look at me, but no one greeted me; they turned their attention back to the arena. On the arena, Erpang, riding a large, dappled horse with a mark on its rump, was already engaged in combat with Xiang Yu.
I strolled up to Mulan and asked, "How long have you been fighting?"
Mulan frowned, staring intently at the two combatants, and said, "It's been a while."
I raised my hand and shouted, "Go, Yu-ge!"
No one responded, and all the heroes, including Fang La and the Four Heavenly Kings, watched the situation on the field with solemn expressions.
I sensed something was wrong and pulled Wu Sangui aside: "What's going on?"
Wu Sangui gestured towards the opposite side and said, "These two are fighting for their lives!"
I exclaimed, "How could that be?" The two of them had a very good and harmonious atmosphere when they met last time.
Wu Sangui said, "When masters clash, they will die if they don't go all out. At this point, whether they fight to the death is no longer up to them."
I glanced at Zhao Bailian and saw him sitting cross-legged on the ground, one hand gripping his toes, but his face was full of fear, probably because he had sensed the chilling killing intent emanating from Xiang Yu and his men.
The horse Erpang rode today was probably a well-trained military horse. Even its eyes had a fierce look about them. Although it looked much uglier than a White Rabbit candy, it was full of wildness.
Just then, the two horses crossed paths. Erpang, one hand gripping the reins, the other wielding his halberd, turned his horse's head like a soaring eagle glaring at Xiang Yu, fully unleashing the aura of the most ferocious general of the Three Kingdoms. He was wearing a tracksuit today; the leather armor was probably something I'd teased him about last time, which made him too embarrassed to bring it. The large, dappled horse, carrying Erpang's robust body, charged forward again. The halberd gleamed under the light, looking no lighter than Xiang Yu's Overlord Spear. Erpang was completely different; I could no longer connect him with the chubby boy who used to squat by the door slurping noodles as a child.
Compared to Lü Bu, Xiang Yu remained calm. He turned his horse around, his spear thrusting diverted from his aim. Lü Bu deflected it with his halberd, the halberd tip sliding down the spear shaft – a move executed with practiced ease. Xiang Yu gripped the spear firmly, his arms jerking, and the spear twisted like a living snake, snapping away from Lü Bu's halberd with a resounding clang.
Lin Chong watched for a long time and sighed, "I always thought that Brother Overlord was invincible because of his superhuman strength, but I never imagined that his skills were also so exquisite."
I nervously grabbed Lin Chong's hand and asked, "Brother, who do you think will win?"
Lin Chong shook his head and said, "It's hard to tell in just three or five hundred moves. But when two tigers fight, I'm afraid in the end, the enemy will be injured a thousand while both sides will suffer eight hundred losses."
At this moment, Xiang Yu and Lü Bu, their horses fixed in place, began to fight in mid-air, each wielding a spear and halberd, the cold light flashing against their faces. Lü Bu glared and puffed out his cheeks, wishing he could split Xiang Yu in two with a single blow, occasionally letting out long, enigmatic "Oh—" or "Ah—" sounds, like something out of a tennis court, seemingly enjoying the fight immensely. Xiang Yu remained silent, but his hands were equally swift, wielding his 130-pound spear like a large, open umbrella, making a buzzing sound.
My heart sank. The last time Hua Rong and Pang Wanchun fought an archery duel was dangerous enough, but those arrows, unless they hit the head or heart, would at most leave a small hole. These two were wielding huge iron lumps weighing over a hundred pounds, swinging them like madmen. A glancing blow meant certain death, a direct hit meant certain death!
After fighting for a while, Lü Bu, as if possessed, unleashed a torrent of attacks on Xiang Yu with his halberd. Xiang Yu seemed somewhat uninterested, listlessly parrying the attacks, only launching offensive moves out of ten.