Mo Hua had thought Zhang Lan's "I'll come find you when I have time" was merely polite talk, but he hadn't expected him to mean it.
After that day, whenever Zhang Lan had nothing to do, he would head to the eatery, order a pot of wine and a plate of meat, then watch the people flowing through the streets as he ate away the entire morning. Whenever he happened to see Mo Hua, he would even complain to him:
"You're just a child. Where do you run off to every day? I've come several times and never seen you."
With a solemn little face, Mo Hua said, "I'm not like you. I'm very busy."
"What could you possibly be busy with?" Zhang Lan didn't believe him.
Mo Hua counted them off on his fingers, listing them one by one:
"Daily cultivation, drawing Array Techniques when I have time, reading Array Manuals when I'm tired, taking some food to Mr. Zhuang whenever I can and asking him a few questions while I'm there, and helping the uncles and aunties in the neighborhood repair their Array Techniques..."
Zhang Lan's head began to ache just listening. "Alright, alright. I surrender."
An eleven- or twelve-year-old cultivator like Mo Hua was busy every single day, while he, a cultivator from the Dao Court Office, was out here drinking in broad daylight. Comparing the two, Zhang Lan even felt a little guilty.
Even when his father had pointed at his nose and cursed him until he was drenched in verbal abuse, his heart had remained calm and unruffled.
"Oh, right. Are there any fun places in Immortal City?" Zhang Lan asked.
"I'm a good child. I don't fool around, so how would I know?"
Mo Hua refused to answer. Who knew what kind of "fun"