Jiang Lu sighed and stepped forward, lightly caressing the city gate: "It's been a long time, Jiang Lu's Magic House."
"..." Dong Wanggong just started to express some sentiment when Jiang Lu made him unable to keep his composure, "Even if it was your Royal City, please don't rename it arbitrarily! Isn't this clearly Duoyuan City, the counterpart of Lingxiao Hall?"
Jiang Lu turned his head to look at him, then waved his hand to blow the dust covering the carved stone inscription above the city gate.
"Excuse me? What's wrong with you, my brother?" Jiang Lu asked, with an African American accent he had learned from the Spirit Realm.
After seeing the inscription, Dong Wanggong was full of questions: "Jiang Lu's Magic House? When did you change it?!"
"It was changed a long time ago," Jiang Lu smiled. "Places like the City of Unjust Death or the Wangxiang Platform, I might not change, but where I reside must be renamed to something I like."