Top-tier Unruly Master

Chapter 2262: Chapter 297: A Man Needs to Have Character

"Bang~"

Ding Fan wanted to reach out and pour more wine, but his hands and feet weren’t quite listening to him. The bottle slammed into the gold square table. His face flushed red, his neck and skin also turning red. He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn’t.

He was panting like an ox, lips trembling. He pointed at the bottle and said, "Pour, pour, pour me ten more cups!"

Ling Wanru didn’t move. She shook her head and said, "Kid, you can’t drink anymore. You’re already drunk."

"Pour!"

Ding Fan’s tone suddenly turned cold, with no room for argument. His eyes snapped open, a flood of Blood Red inside them, carrying a feral gleam. His aura surged stronger along with it. In that moment, Ling Wanru had the illusion that sitting opposite her wasn’t a teenage boy, but a powerful and cruel beast.

"Fine, I’ll pour then. Why are you so fierce? I want to see just how much more you can drink."

Ling Wanru covered her mouth as she spoke, then stood up, took out ten cups, and filled them all with wine. She sneered and said, "If you can finish all of these, I’ll let you cultivate in the Great Cultivation Room for free for twenty-five days."

"Huh, huh~"

Ding Fan was gasping for breath. He closed his eyes and lowered his head, his expression turning somewhat gloomy. The only reason he hadn’t collapsed was his iron will.

How terrifying was his willpower?

An Evil Spirit had attacked his Soul for three days and three nights and still couldn’t obliterate it. Those three days and three nights were like suffering in hell. Since that pain was already behind him, how could a bit of strong liquor numb his nerves?

"Wait, I can’t pass out. I want to finish all this wine!"

Such a thought rose in Ding Fan’s mind. His iron will waged war against the drowsiness rising from the depths of his Soul. His hand trembled slightly, then shot out like lightning to grab a glass cup. He tilted his head back and poured the liquor into his mouth.

Fast, precise, utterly爽快—without the slightest hesitation!

Drunkards usually have numbed nerves, lose control of their mind, their bodies turning sluggish. Yet after Ding Fan had just downed a cup, he’d done it so fast and so cleanly that Ling Wanru was once again shocked.

The things that shocked her kept happening.

Ding Fan rested for a moment. His eyes suddenly opened again, and he downed another cup like a lightning strike. This time, he didn’t pause, but immediately followed with another cup, only then slumping back against the rear wall, looking like he couldn’t go on.

Nine cups!

Counting what he’d had before, Ding Fan had already drunk nine cups. That was about the same as the best drinkers Ling Wanru had ever seen. Moreover, although Ding Fan was very close to the bulkhead, he hadn’t fully passed out. The muscles on his face were still twitching, his hands and feet still struggling, trying to sit up.

Ding Fan hadn’t used any True Yuan to force the alcohol back out!

Ling Wanru was absolutely sure of this. After Ding Fan finished the first cup, he had immediately shown signs of being overwhelmed, from which she could infer that his natural tolerance was not good. Yet he could drink nine cups of Bloody Rose? This baffled Ling Wanru. Why hadn’t Ding Fan collapsed after drinking so much?

"Hah~"

Ding Fan heard a bestial roar burst out from his own throat. He suddenly sat up and opened his eyes again.

The red in those eyes was even heavier now, making him look even more terrifying. His expression was dark and grim, like a wounded beast.

He grabbed two cups with both hands and kept pouring them into his mouth. Two, four, six, seven cups!

Seventeen cups!

Ding Fan had downed a total of seventeen cups of wine. He grinned and said, "Miss Wanru, you said twenty days. Don’t go back on your word. See you."

Ding Fan groped across the table, grabbed his Qingmu mask and pressed it onto his face. After putting on the mask, he braced himself against the gold square table and forced himself to stand up.

Then he staggered toward the exit of the cabin. He fumbled for quite a while before finally opening the door and stepping out to the guardrail outside the cabin. Then... he pitched forward headfirst and went down, collapsing directly onto the deck.

Zhong Zhiqiang hurriedly rushed down, picked Ding Fan up, and carried him back into their cabin. Ling Wanru did not come out, nor did she go to check whether Ding Fan would die from drinking himself unconscious.

She sat in the cabin for a long time before the shock faded from her face. In the end, she muttered a few words: "How can he have such freakish willpower, so overwhelmingly strong."

Sixteen cups of Blood Droplet Rose— even if her grandfather from the Divine Realm, a Sixth Level Expert, didn’t use True Yuan to force the liquor back out, he definitely wouldn’t be able to handle that much either. Yet after drinking, Ding Fan could still speak to her, then put on his own mask and walk out the cabin door on his own.

"They say that if a person’s willpower is strong enough, he can resist alcohol’s numbness and assault, and remain clear-headed the whole time."

Ling Wanru remembered a line from a master. She’d never believed it before. At this moment, she believed. After drinking for five years, this was the first time she’d met such a monster.

"So he really is a beast that’s hard to tame—strong, and interesting!"

Ling Wanru recalled the scene when she first saw Ding Fan on the deck. Although Ding Fan was very young and dressed like some playboy, she’d seen through his disguise at a glance.

Ding Fan had gone through too much suffering, then too many incidents had happened. Too many people had died at his hands. He had even served as an Island Master; many powerful people had bowed their heads before him. He had even almost seized the entire Tianmu Sea, becoming the ruler of the strongest force in the Northern Wastelands.

A person’s aura changes constantly with his identity. No matter what identity he takes on, the temperament that seeps from his bones cannot be hidden. Ling Wanru instantly recognized that Ding Fan was a wild stallion that was hard to control, but she hadn’t realized this stallion was even more vigorous than she’d imagined.

"He really is something else!"

Ling Wanru muttered as she drank, sometimes laughing, sometimes silently crying. Her hair soon became disheveled, her clothes no longer neat, like a madwoman who had lost her reason...

Ding Fan slept the whole day and night, and when he woke up his stomach was still churning. He had to rest for nearly five hours before he finally recovered.

Although he had been drunk and unconscious at the time, he’d drunk sixteen cups, and Ling Wanru had granted him twenty‑five days of free cultivation; he remembered this very clearly.

After casually eating a little something, he immediately called for the Cultivation Chamber. The steward seemed to have received Ling Wanru’s order and let him in directly, and he at once went inside for closed‑door cultivation.

He had already completely comprehended the Evil Spirit’s memories, but now he lacked practice to prove them. After the practice of the first two days, he had vaguely touched upon a bit of the shallow parts.

That Evil Spirit had used its own body to unleash a profound set of Martial Skills. He didn’t need to sense the inner meaning of this Martial Skills; he only needed to imitate it bit by bit and learn how to use this set of Martial Skills.

Easy to say, hard to do. Although Ding Fan remembered vividly the Martial Skills the Evil Spirit had unleashed, and had even calculated every detail, this should have been no problem.

No problem—yet in fact, in fact the problem was huge!

In the following half month, Ding Fan kept cultivating inside the Cultivation Chamber, eating, drinking, relieving himself and sleeping there. He tried all kinds of methods, yet still couldn’t use that Divine Skill; he could only manifest a dozen or so Phantoms.

He lay in a corner of the Cultivation Chamber, chewing dry rations and drinking water while frowning in thought.

"What is it? Does it mean that if I can’t comprehend the Reflecting the True Essence, I can’t use this Divine Skill?"

Ding Fan muttered to himself. After such a long time without the slightest progress, something had to be wrong. If he continued cultivating like this, he would only sink into a quagmire and never get out for the rest of his life.

"Can I take another path? Use another method?"

Ding Fan’s eyes shone. He pondered for a moment, then stuffed the remaining dry ration in his hand into his mouth and sat up.

He planned to change direction. First, he would find a way to reach more than sixty Phantoms. After reaching the limit of the Shadowless Divine Skill, he could split into more than a hundred Phantoms; he wanted to first achieve this goal.

Ten days later!

Ding Fan’s body suddenly flashed with light, then his body split into two, the two into four, and finally reached one hundred.

In the Great Cultivation Room, a hundred figures flickered with light. They were all Ding Fan, dazzling to the eye, making it impossible to distinguish the truth.

However...

If you couldn’t distinguish with the eyes, that didn’t mean you couldn’t distinguish with Divine Sense. Moreover, these Phantoms of Ding Fan’s could only completely follow behind Ding Fan; they couldn’t run around everywhere, soar to the heavens and dive into the earth like when the Evil Spirit unleashed this Divine Skill.

In these ten days, Ding Fan had cultivated the Shadowless Divine Skill to a near‑success state. The peak of this Divine Skill could manifest over a hundred Phantoms; Ding Fan could already split into over a hundred now, which was already close to major completion.

Ding Fan had previously cultivated this Divine Skill for a long time, yet he could only split into a dozen or so Phantoms. Now, in just ten days, he had reached over a hundred.

It wasn’t that Ding Fan’s comprehension had improved; all of this was thanks to that Evil Spirit.

The Evil Spirit had stolen this Divine Skill from Ding Fan’s Soul, then comprehended it itself, allowing its Clones to manifest over sixty. In the Evil Spirit’s memory fragments, there were ways to improve their state. Ding Fan used those memory fragments to comprehend them, so of course his progress was very fast.

"Good, good!"

Ding Fan’s figures vanished one after another, and Ding Fan’s true body appeared, looking extremely satisfied.

At least the recent twenty‑five days of cultivation had yielded gains. His Clones could now reach over a hundred. What he now needed to do was fuse this Divine Skill with the Reflecting the True Essence, making his Clone Phantoms even more realistic—so long as they couldn’t be sensed by a Divine Realm Sixth Level Expert—and also be able to control these Phantom Clones to fly off in all directions.

"As long as I put my heart into cultivation, I’ll master this Divine Skill sooner or later!"

Ding Fan clenched his fists and sat in a corner against the wall, taking out dry rations in his hand. He pushed the Qingmu mask up toward the top of his head a bit, revealing his mouth to chew. During this period, he had poured his entire mind and body into cultivation, forgetting that the twenty‑five days had already passed.

"Creak~"

With the sound, the hatch slowly opened. The steward slowly walked in, looked at Ding Fan, and said indifferently, "Young master, your allotted cultivation time has ended."

"Already?"

Ding Fan was still sitting on the ground gnawing on a piece of dry ration. Hearing the steward’s words, he looked toward the hatch, and sure enough he saw a beautiful figure there.

Ling Wanru was leaning slantwise against the doorframe, watching Ding Fan squat in the corner chewing dry rations, his long hair hanging loose, his clothes ragged like a beggar. A faint change once again appeared in her eyes.

She had seen diligent people before, but a madman like Ding Fan was rare. Ding Fan didn’t seem to lack Black Obsidian; he had two Divine Realm Sixth Level Experts under his command, so his background must be extraordinary. Yet she couldn’t understand why he cultivated as if he didn’t want his life.

"Alright, I’ll go out right away."

Ding Fan finished the dry rations in his hand, put on the Qingmu mask, and leaped lightly to his feet. Ling Wanru and the steward walked out first, and Ding Fan followed behind.

As soon as Ding Fan walked out, Ling Wanru immediately covered her nose and cursed like Bandits: "You really stink, brat."

"Hahaha!"

Ding Fan burst out laughing and said carelessly, "A man needs to have a smell to be more like a man, isn’t that how it goes?"

Ding Fan strode toward the Tavern; there was a place to bathe there. After washing, he changed into a clean long robe, and came out feeling extremely comfortable.

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