At dawn, when the sky had only just begun to show a pale strip of fish-belly white, Wang Chen quietly left the alley.
He wore a gray-blue Daoist robe. His beard and hair were streaked with white, his face lean and refined, and his frame so thin and frail that he seemed incapable of tying up a chicken.
Yet the faint aura of high-level Qi Condensation he exuded made people wary of underestimating him.
The long street bustled with people, and most of the shops lining it had either opened or were opening.
Wang Chen made his way through the streets and alleys with practiced ease until he arrived at a teahouse.
The teahouse served breakfast. He found a seat, ordered a pot of Spiritual Tea and a basket of buns,
and ate while listening to the surrounding tea drinkers chat about everything under the sun.
These patrons were mostly local residents, well informed and quick with news. Any major or minor event in Myriad Cultivator City was fodder for their eager conversation.
After hearing his fill of street gossip and tales of the martial world, Wang Chen finished the fragrant, piping-hot beast-meat buns with cleansing Spiritual Tea, paid for his meal, and left the teahouse.
The Spiritual Tea and buns here cost more than twice as much as they did in Dongwu Stockade.
For an ordinary Rogue Cultivator, settling down in Myriad Cultivator City truly was no easy matter.
Near the teahouse stood a large Marketplace.
Wang Chen had come today to set up a stall.
After paying the Marketplace managers the rental fee for the day, he quickly set up his stall near a corner.
He had no choice. Wang Chen had arrived a little late, and all the good spots had already been taken.
There were four