In the martial world, inns were always the liveliest places, bustling with people traveling from every direction. Heroes, martial artists, wandering knights—whoever they were, they all had to eat in the end.
This place was no different.
The dining hall was packed with guests. They drank tea and chatted while curiously staring at the table by the window. An old man in a blue cloth robe sat there, his hair white as snow. He held a pipe in one hand and rested with his eyes closed. Across from him sat a young woman with two thick braids. She currently had both hands propping up her cheeks as she stared at the old man.
Seeing that most of the guests had arrived, the old man picked up his pipe and tapped it against the table. The surrounding clamor immediately quieted down considerably—the stories of the martial world had always been thrilling, and the guests enjoyed hearing such gossip. Moreover, Old Man Sun's gossip was not only interesting but also quite special, making it very popular among the guests.
After all, not everyone could become a traveler of the martial world.
For most ordinary people, listening to stories here and imagining the sparks that might fly between themselves and wandering heroes was already enough.
The braided girl let out a soft laugh and spoke.
"Grandpa, what are we talking about today? Are we still telling the story of the Plum Blossom Bandit?"
"Heh heh..."
Hearing the braided girl's question, Old Man Sun chuckled.
"There's nothing left to say about the Plum Blossom Bandit. That's all in the past now."
"But hasn't the Plum Blossom Bandit still not been caught?"
The braided girl asked curiously, but Old Man Sun shook his head.
"That's true, but so what? When all is said and done,