Sheng Tian, once the foremost land of Feng Kingdom, should have been described in Li Qing's memory with phrases like songs and dances of peace, willow-lined bridges over painted waters, and jade-green curtains billowing in the wind.
Yet after entering this imperial capital, the first thing he felt was a sense of oppression. Pedestrians coming and going through the streets all wore worried expressions, as though the sky were shrouded beneath a layer of lingering dark clouds.
Even the imperial capital was in such a state. One could well imagine the condition of Wu Dynasty's other provincial cities.
Wanted Posters could be seen everywhere throughout the streets and alleys. Beneath portrait after portrait of martial artists lay strings of staggering bounty amounts.
By the time Li Qing arrived, he had already gathered a stack of Wanted Posters in his hands. They recorded the jianghu martial cultivators with the highest bounties in recent years, as well as the most unruly ones.
Holding the Wanted Posters, Li Qing made his way to the Taoyuan Restaurant he knew fairly well. When he had brewed those two jars of medicinal wine, he had bought the strong liquor here.
"Waiter, bring me wine. Two jars of your finest Winter Plum Wine."
"Also three jin of braised beef, fried peanuts, and red-braised pig trotters."
He did not even need to look at the menu. The moment Li Qing sat down, he rattled off the dishes he used to order most often.
Yet unexpectedly, the waiter, with a rag draped over his shoulder, was full of difficulty. He said, "Sir, the Winter Plum Wine in our restaurant can now only be sold to the grassland tribes."
"Also, Wu Dynasty has prohibited the slaughter of cattle in recent years, so our restaurant no longer sells braised beef."
Hearing