Transmission of the Dao

Li Qi noticed that on the rooftop terrace, everyone seemed rather refined. They ordered a few small dishes, then savored them slowly.

By scanning the surface thoughts of those around him, he learned that, firstly, this was more elegant and tasteful, unlike crude people chewing peonies like cattle.

Secondly, the dishes here were all precious and quite expensive. Someone like Li Qi, who ordered over four hundred dishes and took only a bite of each, could only be afforded by the forces under the dozen or so eighth-rank figures in the city.

Oh, they did not call it eighth rank here. They called it the Primordial Spirit Realm.

Anyway, it was more or less the same thing.

Others might not necessarily be unable to afford it, but clearly, they would not squander money like this. After all, the expense was no small matter.

Thus, once Li Qi did this, he naturally drew the attention of many people. Quite a few began secretly observing him and instructing their subordinates to investigate this sudden eighth-rank figure.

Yes, everyone naturally took him for an eighth-rank figure, because... if someone without that level of strength acted so ostentatiously, the outcome would probably be ugly.

Doing things appropriate to one's rank was a deeply ingrained rule in this world.

Of course, Li Qi did not know that. Even if he had, he would not have cared, because he had truly only come here to eat.

After tasting more than four hundred dishes, Li Qi set down his chopsticks.

They were all right, barely passable. But compared to the takeout from Zhu Fengdan that he had eaten before, the gap was truly enormous. They could not even compare to ingredients like swordfish. At most, they counted as decent among eighth- and ninth-rank foods—still merely ordinary delicacies,