Inspired by a certain dragon, the monkey had developed a love of wealth as well.
The monkey cast a sinister glance at the flashy young master in the carriage. Whether he was Sang Yu or the lingering soul of a stone statue no longer mattered. Right now, he had only one identity: a fat sheep, a fat sheep so greasy with wealth it dripped oil. Rob him, then use the money to buy minced-meat noodles and roujiamo.
Bai Yujun was curious. Wicked fiends ran rampant outside the city, yet the many experts within the city turned a blind eye.
She sighed inwardly. Sure enough, the mountains were high and the emperor far away. The Heavenly Court was currently the orthodox authority; its governance and rule seemed like the blazing sun, yet shadows were inevitable beneath the sunlight. If anyone said the many Aristocratic Clans of the Wenhuo Great World had clean hands, not even ghosts would believe it.
On second thought, it was perfectly normal.
Cultivators considered themselves above ordinary mortals. Why would they care whether common people lived or died?
Her thoughts drifted, and she paid no attention to what treasures the gathering brought out. Perhaps throughout the entire hall, only the monkey, Huang Yu, and Bai Yujun had little interest in treasures. Influenced by a certain dragon, the monkey cared more about his own strength. Huang Yu simply did not understand. Not understanding was good—the less one knew, the more upright one's heart remained. Know too much, and confusion was unavoidable.
She picked up her teacup and drained it with a slurp.
Smacking her lips, she still found it unsatisfying. The teacup was exquisite, but only slightly bigger than her thumb. Boring.
She grabbed the palm-sized teapot, propped it in one hand, clamped the spout between her teeth,