The two walked over to the stone table, where Xue Liang pulled out his wine gourd and took several large gulps. He wasn't savoring fine wine; he was drinking heavily, venting, trying to extinguish the bitterness in his heart.
"Easy on the drink, friend... That much will take its toll," Zhao Zuo said consolingly.
"I'm making a fool of myself," Xue Liang said with a wry smile.
"To be honest, I once suspected that you were the one who had the inheritance."
Xue Liang set down his wine gourd and spoke with complete candor. His bloodshot eyes were filled with genuine sincerity. At this moment, an air of dejection surrounded him, all his ambition seemingly gone.
