Threads of Fate and Forbidden Paths

Jiang Xudong's brow furrowed, confusion mixed with curiosity. "Paths one may regret?"

The tavern owner's gaze turned stern, his expression carrying a wisdom that seemed to have been carved over years of experience. "Opium, young master. The path that has ensnared many a soul. It numbs the pain and burdens but also clouds the mind and shackles the spirit. You are the son of a sect leader, a beacon of hope and strength for your people. Your presence here may tarnish that image."

Jiang Xudong leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing with a mix of irritation and impatience. His fingers tapped impatiently on the wooden table, creating a faint rhythm that resonated with the tension in the room. "Old man," he spat out, his voice dripping with disdain, "I care little for the opinions of the ignorant masses. Opium is not just a path; it's a tool. A tool to control minds, to relax, and to ensure peace within the body."