Little Fire was utterly speechless,
rolling his eyes,
not wanting to speak to his boss anymore.
Zhang Qingyuan calmly took a sip of tea, his expression unchanged, not particularly bothered within.
Since it was a myth and legend, that meant it had been passed down for who knew how many years. From one person to another, and then to the next, each person might add or remove a little. After being passed down through countless generations and countless people, the original events had long since become unrecognizable.
How could one possibly investigate history through myths and legends?
But it was not completely useless.
At the very least, some information was still worth considering.
For instance, the background of this story,
Immortal City had originally likely been called Demon City. In ancient times, demons and devils ran rampant, while humans were treated as dogs and slaves. Perhaps such things had once happened in this city.
Zhang Qingyuan stroked his chin, secretly pondering to himself.
Could what Immortal City was hiding have something to do with this?
Somewhere in the unseen, Zhang Qingyuan had a premonition.
Just as Zhang Qingyuan was lost in thought, a sudden commotion rose from outside the tavern.
"Hey, you old bastard, it's because I think highly of you that I want your granddaughter to come serve me. Don't fail to appreciate my kindness!"
On the lower floor of the tavern,
the old man who had been telling stories had already stopped. His stall was in disarray, and the storyteller's granddaughter was currently slung over the shoulder of a tall, thin man in black clothes with a sharp-mouthed, monkey-cheeked face.
The granddaughter struggled and kicked wildly with both hands and feet, screaming,
while the storyteller knelt on the ground, repeatedly kowtowing to the cultivator carrying his granddaughter. Blood