Winter reigned in her rage and didn't lash out against her aunt.
But a dig at her family's open secret with the bottle would certainly be in good taste.
.
-"There was a time in the far lands of Me-His-Traal, when a man stood above and beyond all other Martial Artists."
She displayed on the screen a pottery vase engraved with a man mid-leap. Behind his frame, a bolt of lightning filled the scenery. His clothes were skin-tight, adorned with golden filigrees. His hair was held aloft in a braided ponytail.
.
"Yim Tit sam, the Thunderfoot. His style of aggressive kicks could not be countered by any other duelist. Remember that the Code of Dueling was born in this land. Receiving a kick without aura would mean being a cripple for life. All feared him."
.
Then she displayed side by side a second vase. The contrast was outstanding. Whereas the first picture was immaculate, the second was haggard. Rags instead of clothes. The immaculate ponytail was absent, on its place, a messy fur.
A slouched down posture holding a wine vase.
.
-"I present you, the greatest duelist that Me-His-Traal ever saw. Wong Arc, a disciple of Beggar So. Beggar So, one of the Ten Tigers of Canton, was the founder of Drunken Style. The father of Wong was disgusted with his son. His debauchery, his lack of strong moral fiber.
He asked for many a master to take in his son and educate him in the martial arts, to instill the discipline he couldn't.
.
Begar So understood that the tool must fit the hand.
Instead of the Snake style or the Crane, the ale would do."
.
Both vases twisted. The first displayed "37th Tournament. Greatest Warrior under the heavens". The vase with the hobo moved and displayed "38th Tournament. Greatest Warrior under the heavens".
.
Winter addressed the slack-jawed audience.
-"He was unpredictable, the hits he received rolled without opposition. The drunken fool found victory where the cold calculating mind only received defeats."