Chen Yan was not angry, just unsure whether to laugh or cry.
Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that he, a dignified Immortal Cultivator, would be extorted by some lowly soldier guarding a city gate.
Never mind now—even in his first life, nothing like this had ever happened to him.
Chen Yan had indeed heard before that gate guards would occasionally use all sorts of ridiculous excuses to stop travelers who looked both worth squeezing and easy to bully, then extort money from them.
He had never expected to run into it himself.
"I have no money."
Chen Yan answered.
"Oh dear, that makes things difficult."
The gate guard spoke in a peculiar, affected tone:
"If you can pay the public security tax, I can let you through right now. But if you can't, you'll have to register at the government office, and there's no telling when they'll let you out."
"How much?"
Chen Yan asked with a smile.
"Two taels of silver."
"But I have no money."
"Then don't blame me for being impolite, young master. Get off your horse!"
The young-looking guard's expression grew even colder.
"I don't have any money, but I have this. See if you recognize it."
Chen Yan took an exquisite, palm-sized wooden token with intricate patterns from inside his robes. Carved on it were the words "Empty Mountain Empty Fate."
It was proof of his identity as a disciple of Kongyuan Mountain.
The guard leaned a little closer and squinted at the wooden token in Chen Yan's hand, then suddenly remembered something:
"I can't read!"
He certainly said it with righteous confidence.
Chen Yan sighed. Just as he was considering how to tease this hotheaded young guard next, the clatter of armor suddenly came from nearby.
Another guard rushed over and