Martial Lord

"Still there? Then I'll stop by and take a look later."

Wang Zhifan replied after hearing this.

The Confucian scholars could not help asking why he had suddenly brought up such a small place. Wang Zhifan smiled and said, "An old friend of mine is buried there."

"I see... May I ask which Transcendent Xiantian cultivator it was? We can pay our respects as well."

Some immediately had that thought. After all, in their eyes, anyone whom a Master valued so highly had to be a Transcendent Xiantian cultivator.

But Wang Zhifan shook his head. "He was not a Transcendent Xiantian cultivator. He was only a Houtian Confucian scholar all his life, but he was unquestionably an outstanding Confucian scholar..."

"A Houtian cultivator?! Since the Martial Venerable still remembers him, something extraordinary must have happened to him. If it is convenient, could you tell us more?"

The wine-drinking scholars were instantly consumed by curiosity, nearly forgetting all about composing poetry and matching couplets.

However, Wang Zhifan did not continue the topic. He figured that his old friend's spirit would not want others discussing him too much, so he skipped over it and continued sightseeing and wandering the streets with them.

By evening, Wang Zhifan had finished everything he needed to do in Shuyue City. Carrying a jug of fine wine produced there, he headed for the ruins of Book Hill City.

Just as the scholars had said, Book Hill City from two hundred years ago was now nothing but wilderness. Without looking carefully, one could not even find the crumbling buildings hidden beneath the grass and trees. It no longer bore any resemblance to the small Confucian Sect town in his memories.

Still, Wang Zhifan spent some time using his immensely powerful senses to locate the place he sought. He