The Hidden Past

As the day of the sect tournament drew closer, Chen Xuan could feel the atmosphere in Chang'an City changing.

More and more people walked on the right side of the long streets, almost matching the civilians on the left in number. Every one of them wore fine clothes and spoke the common tongue with distinct regional accents. Their jade plaques hung in the most conspicuous spots at their waists, announcing to everyone around them that they were orthodox Cultivators.

It was not just cultivators coming to Chang'an. The number of ordinary people had also risen sharply, as could be glimpsed from the number of carriages traveling along Vermilion Bird Avenue. From dawn to dusk, countless vehicles entered through the southern city gate, then slowly dispersed throughout the city along this north-south thoroughfare, like nourishment absorbed into the body of a giant.

This was easy enough to understand. Cultivators were not solitary people; they had families and friends, and these people would usually follow them to Chang'an. Besides cheering them on at close range, visiting the Eastern Continent's largest international city was an enjoyable outing in itself.

Where there were people, there was business. How could merchants who caught wind of it possibly miss the chance to make a fortune? Thus, trade associations from all over were drawn here as well.

In fact, even the Immortal Alliance viewed the sect tournament as a festival.

For example, the districts associated with cultivators were hung with colorful banners, and some of the outer entertainment areas would even be opened to ordinary people, allowing them to witness how cultivators normally indulged themselves.

Their reasoning was simple. The Immortal Alliance's finances mainly came from city taxes, and with such a massive influx of people, whether it was entrance fees or taxes on the trade of