Xu Yi shook his head blankly. The fat shopkeeper sneered. "You don't even know about the Immortal Saint, yet you dare call yourself a cultivator? If you're not a cultivator, then sixty years ago your mother would've still been in the womb. How could you have possibly made an enemy of the Yuan family? Don't try to fool me. Go on, go on—get out of here. This old man runs a small business and can't afford to get mixed up in this mess."
With a loud clank, a gold ingot struck the dingy, mold-flecked tabletop. "I'm only asking you to tell me a story. That shouldn't be too hard, should it?" Xu Yi asked with a smile.
He'd exchanged some of his resources for the gold ingot along the way. No matter how far he climbed, he'd never forgotten one rule: travel rich, even if you live poor at home.
The fat shopkeeper's eyes lit up. He snatched up the ingot and gave Xu Yi a thumbs-up. "Now I believe you. You're a cultivator, a real cultivator. Look at the way you tossed that ingot down—you don't even consider it money."
Xu Yi waved a hand. "Get to the point, or I'll take it back."
"Don't, don't!"
The fat shopkeeper waved both hands frantically. "Actually, who in the Great Song doesn't know about the Yuan family..."
"Wait. The Great Song? Isn't this the Great Yue?"
Xu Yi was dumbfounded.
The fat shopkeeper stared at him. "Now I believe you even more. You're not just a cultivator—you must be a great cultivator. You've definitely been in seclusion these past few decades. Otherwise, how could you not even know the dynasty changed..."
The fat shopkeeper was a talkative man with a broad mind. Once he got going, he'd actually hit the mark.