Yan ZK

Jianghu was in turmoil, an era of great strife.
The leader of Great Qin wielded the Mo Blade, leaving the world battered and bruised. The ageless figures of Jianghu crouched upon the mountains, and with a single turn, they cast the entire world below them.
Strong men measured the earth with their feet, and heroes of Jianghu could cleave the heavens with one sword, yet in the blink of an eye, they were drunk in the embrace of beauties.
The Taoist carried his sword, the Scholar drunk on wine.
Wearing tattered clothes, a beggar grasped a rotten branch and dared to storm the ancestral hall of the Taoist Sect. On the willow-lined causeway, in the long pavilion, a man who had sat withered for thirty years turned and stepped out, holding a peach blossom, with a flick of his wrist, he shattered ten miles of red candles.
The era of Great Qin was renamed the Great Yuan Era.
The youth with the Wooden Sword left his mountain village behind.
(Solo female lead)

Why do I have so many masters?

Wang Anfeng counted the Copper Coins he had, along with that piece of Silver, which should have been enough to stay in the inn of this small city for a good three to five days, including meals and drinks.


But when the Silver was all spent, the city remained eerily quiet. Not a soul from the White Tiger Hall showed up, and those from the Heavenly Sword Sect seemed like reclusive Taoists, without a shim of news.


During these days, the youth went out daily with his sword but didn't spot anyone suspicious. When he asked the shopkeeper unintentionally, the elder's strange look told Wang Anfeng that, to these locals, he might be the most peculiar one.


The youth laughed it off, not minding, and merely bit into another mouthful of his steamed bun, finishing it before heading back.


Chapter 117: Banished Immortal Above the Tea Stall (2/2)