Chapter 31: Eating Your Dog Meat, Forcing You to Dance

Gu Dao had invited Wei Qingmei to eat dog meat, but she had sternly refused. Once Gu Dao left for the Chujiang Pavilion, she immediately sent a letter to Dou Tuo. Anonymously, she informed him that Gu Dao had killed his beloved dog and was currently cooking and eating it at the Chujiang Pavilion. After orchestrating this, she waited anxiously for the news, anticipating a bloody confrontation between Dou Tuo and Gu Dao.

If Gu Dao were beaten to death by Dou Tuo, the Gu family would be rid of a good-for-nothing, and it would pave the way for her "Brother Jiuzhang" to become the legitimate heir. Furthermore, Dou Tuo would not escape unscathed; killing the eldest legitimate son of a millennium-old noble family would inevitably lead to death or exile. It was a perfect way to kill two birds with one stone—ridding the capital of a menace. Even if Dou Tuo managed to control his temper and spared Gu Dao’s life, he would certainly punish him severely. Either way, Brother Jiuzhang would be the ultimate beneficiary.

Thinking of this, Wei Qingmei’s heart raced, her pretty face flushing a deep red. She fantasized about how Brother Jiuzhang would cherish her once he found out, sweetness enveloping her entirely. She completely ignored the potential consequences, her mind filled only with Gu Ling.

Dou Tuo was indeed furious. Gu Dao had actually killed his meticulously raised, invincible dog. Killing it was one thing, but he was actually going to eat it? This was no longer just about a dog; it was an insult.

"You shameless cur! How dare you eat my dog! You’re no better than a dog yourself!" Dou Tuo roared, smashing the table with a single punch.

The feast at Chujiang Pavilion began, and the dog meat stew was served. When preparing the dish, the meat was first blanched to remove the gamey scent, then stir-fried with sauces and rice wine. Finally, it was placed in an earthenware pot and simmered slowly with a rich broth. The meat was tender and flavorful, and the soup was delicious. Black dog meat is excellent—warming, nourishing, and invigorating. Although Chujiang Pavilion had exquisite tableware, Gu Dao had opted not to use it. Instead, he placed a large, coarse earthenware pot in front of each person, kept simmering over charcoal. It looked rustic, but it possessed a unique charm.

The several elderly guests stood on no ceremony. Before Yuan Cong could even pick up his chopsticks to speak, the others had already begun to eat. "What kind of meat is this? It’s truly fragrant," Zhang Qiong, the most carefree and uninhibited of the group, asked while slurping his lips from the heat. The others didn't say much, but as they took each bite, they nodded repeatedly.

"Eating this type of meat requires a special wine, which I have already prepared," Gu Dao said, signaling the maid of Chujiang Pavilion to bring out the liquor he had prepared in advance. He had distilled it himself and blended it with other spirits. He had tasted it; it was about 45 to 46 percent alcohol.

When the Prince of Chu saw the bottle, he knew it wasn't from the Chujiang Pavilion and said somewhat displeased, "Coming to my Chujiang Pavilion and bringing your own wine? Xiuzhi, you look down on me."

Gu Dao waved his hand, and the maids opened the bottles, letting a rich, potent aroma of alcohol fill the room. "The wine of Chujiang Pavilion is mellow, but naturally, it cannot compare to this," Gu Dao replied with a smile, adding, "However, this wine is exceptionally fiery. Most people cannot drink it..."

Gu Dao was about to say that the wine was too strong to be drunk in large gulps. But Master Jingjie, a lover of spirits, had already raised his cup and downed it in one go—a full ounce or more. "Hey, Master Jingjie, you shouldn't drink it like that..."

He watched as Master Jingjie’s face instantly turned bright red. The man held his breath, eyes wide open, sweat instantly pouring from his forehead. "Oh dear, Master, this wine is too strong. Most people can't drink it that way. Quickly, eat some meat to settle it," Gu Dao hurriedly ran over to say.

The problem lay in that very remark: "Most people can't drink it that way." Who was he calling "most people"? Zhang Qiong, who usually didn't care about anything, had the most rebellious temperament—one could even call it stubborn as a mule. Upon hearing this, he raised his cup and downed it in one gulp. "Ugh..." Zhang Qiong let out a muffled groan, teeth gritted, his entire body stiffening.

When Hermit Huayang saw this, he thought: *Oh, what is this, a show of force? I can't let you outdo me.* He raised his cup and finished it as well. "Don't, don't drink it like that," Gu Dao urged. But these old gentlemen were set on not listening to reason; the more he urged them, the more they persisted. And every time they drank, they did so in grim silence.

Yuan Cong refused to back down either. His old friends had all drunk it; though his capacity wasn't as great, his courage was. He downed his cup as well. Only the Prince of Chu remained, staying calm and intending to observe the situation first. Gu Dao thought that at least one person was willing to listen to advice, and he quickly said, "Your Highness, it is better that you are calm. This wine cannot be drunk like that; one must take small sips..."

The Prince of Chu gave a disdainful smile, thinking, *Is all this fuss over a drink? What's so special about it?* He raised his cup and said, "Who are you looking down on? Since the elders have all drunk it, how could I not join them?"

He regretted it the moment he finished. He felt a line of fire shoot from his throat straight into his stomach, instantly exploding with heat. His whole body shuddered, and sweat soaked his back. A wave of alcohol fumes surged upward; he could only press his lips together tightly, holding his breath to maintain control. It felt as if he would breathe fire if he opened his mouth.

"Good wine! It burns the throat..." Master Jingjie was the first to react. After shouting this, he began frantically eating the meat to suppress the alcohol fumes. It was 45-proof alcohol. For these men who usually drank nothing stronger than 20-proof, it was definitely potent. That anyone could down a gulp without spitting it out on the spot proved they were all seasoned masters of alcohol.

After a series of shouts and laughter, the old men vented the heat of the alcohol, feeling a surge of warmth pouring out from within. They broke into a hearty, drenched sweat. "Xiuzhi, this wine must be stocked in my Chujiang Pavilion," the Prince of Chu said after swallowing a large mouthful of dog meat, his sweat pouring down. He took off his outer coat and threw it to a maid, signaling for more wine.

"By the way, this dish as well," the Prince of Chu said, pointing to the dog meat stew, eating with great gusto. "What meat is this? Paired with this wine, it truly radiates 'Yang' energy. One must eat plenty of it," Zhang Qiong said while sipping wine and gasping. "Yes, write down the recipe; I can make this dish myself at Mount Zhonghan. Send me some of this wine as well," Master Jingjie added without hesitation.

Gu Dao smiled and asked, "My elders, do you know that Dou Tuo has a 'beloved treasure'?" The old men didn't actually know; they didn't pay attention to the affairs of the younger generation. Bad children were clever enough to know who they couldn't afford to provoke, and Dou Tuo had never lingered in their presence. The Prince of Chu, however, knew a little. "That fierce black dog of his that eats raw meat?"

"I heard it went missing. Dou Tuo has been running around with a blade, turning the capital upside down..." The Prince of Chu looked down at the earthenware pot, realizing the dog was already inside. He couldn't help but laugh: "Haha, that is a rare thing indeed..." The other old men understood as well and couldn't help but point at Gu Dao and laugh; this child was far too mischievous.

Just then, the door was kicked open with a loud *bang*. Dou Tuo charged into the private room like a starving wolf, his eyes bloodshot, a short blade in his hand flashing with cold light. He roared, "Gu Dao, you..."

Gu Dao turned back calmly, a piece of tender, soft dog meat held in his chopsticks. He licked his lips and asked, "Is there something you need?"

Dou Tuo was stunned, forcibly swallowing the rest of his words. Even though his chest ached from the effort, he had no choice but to endure it. He began to doubt what he was seeing. None of the people at the table, other than Gu Dao, were anyone he could afford to offend. Never mind him, even if his father were here, he would have to force a smile and offer a toast to any one of them. Now, it wasn't about finding trouble with Gu Dao; he had to explain why he had brought a blade inside.

The Prince of Chu looked at Dou Tuo, then at the dog meat in the pot. He asked coldly, "What are you staring at?"

Dou Tuo wasn't crazy, nor was he drunk. Naturally, he didn't dare reply, "Staring at you, so what?" Sweat streamed down his ugly face, and there was a damp patch in his crotch. Clearly, these people had eaten his dog, but eaten it they had. If he dared to ruin the mood of these people for the sake of a dog, the Prince of Chu would break his legs right now. If his father returned, he would break his third leg.

Fortunately, he reacted quickly. He flourished his blade, settled into a defensive posture, and endured the humiliation, saying, "Your Highness, I heard that these honored guests were drinking here, so I came specifically to perform a sword dance to entertain the elders."

This explanation wouldn't fool a fool. But having eaten their host's food, they were soft-spoken, and besides, the dog meat was truly delicious. The Prince of Chu tapped the earthenware pot with his chopsticks and said, "Then why haven't you started dancing? Are you waiting for me to provide the music?"

Dou Tuo had no choice but to bite the bullet, stretching out his body and dancing with the cold, flashing short blade. His family had a strong martial tradition, and he had tempered his body since childhood; this swordplay was no mere show—it was vigorous, powerful, and filled with killing intent. The Prince of Chu raised his glass to toast the elders. The table full of people ate and drank, discussing poetry, songs, and old memories. No one paid any attention to the dancing Dou Tuo. He was like a performer trying to please an audience that didn't care he existed.

For someone of his noble birth, this was sheer humiliation; he could even see tears forming in the corners of his eyes. It was so incredibly stifling—they ate his dog, and now he had to dance for them. There was no justice! But he couldn't resist; he could only channel his shame and rage into his vigorous, powerful movements. He only hoped that no one would notice him, that they would treat him like a fart and let him finish so he could leave.

But Gu Dao insisted on rubbing salt in the wound, occasionally turning back to clap and cheer. He gorged himself right in front of him. Gu Dao was deliberately provoking him, spreading salt on his wounds. His former self had been so frightened by Dou Tuo’s vicious dog that he had wet his pants; now, he was using this method to get even. The idea of "forgiving when one can" was nonsense; when a villain falls into a well and you don't drop a rock on him, you're a fool.

This made Dou Tuo’s chest feel like it was about to explode. The key was that the meat he was eating was his own beloved dog. Once this became known, the whole capital would know by tomorrow that he was a laughingstock. He wanted to slit Gu Dao’s throat, or perhaps just his own.

Finally, he finished the sword dance. Gu Dao held two cups of wine and walked over to the panting Dou Tuo. He handed him a cup and said calmly, "Dou Yuancheng, back then you used your vicious dog to scare me into wetting my pants. Today, I ate your vicious dog and enjoyed your sword dance. Let's call it even. Shall we let this cup of wine wash away our grievances?"

Dou Tuo, panting heavily, took the cup but didn't look at Gu Dao, as if he were merely a servant serving wine. Instead, he bowed from a distance toward the table: "A toast to all the elders." After saying this, he downed the drink and left with his blade, not looking back. This was a clear signal that he didn't intend to reconcile, foreshadowing that his next retaliation would be even more intense.

To the people at the table, these petty squabbles between children were harmless games. However, Yuan Cong’s face darkened until it looked like it could drip water. "Xiuzhi, has Dou Yuancheng actually done such vile things?"

The others seemed to be eating and drinking, even chatting casually, but in reality, they were all secretly observing Gu Dao’s reaction. Gu Dao smiled easily, turning to comfort Yuan Cong: "Grandmaster, this grudge has been settled today. Please don't take it to heart, otherwise, people will say you are too protective of your own, bullying a child."

The phrase "protective of your own" warmed Yuan Cong’s mood. "You must be careful; I don't think this child will let it rest," Yuan Cong said.

"Oh, enough, enough. So Gu Xiuzhi only has you as an elder, is that it? Are we all just decorations?" Zhang Qiong said with a huff, clearly feeling a bit sour.

"Alright, alright. Xiuzhi, you heard him. If anything happens, go find your senior brother first," Yuan Cong said, using the opportunity to back down.

"Ah, I’ve been outmaneuvered by you. It's useless to go to a useless senior brother like me. Better to find the senior brother who was expelled from the sect," Zhang Qiong realized he had been trapped by Yuan Cong and quickly pursed his lips at Hermit Huayang.

"I am but a wandering crane in the clouds."

"Bah, you're as 'wandering' as a fart..."