The Sound of Wind and Rain

Chapter 611: The Sound of Wind and Rain

Whoosh... In an instant, a vast black-and-white scene spanning a hundred meters in every direction, with centimeter-level precision, took shape in the mind of Zhang Sanxian—blind in his eyes, but not in his heart.

The tavern, eaves, railings, doors, even every raindrop falling from the sky, all appeared within this scene.

"Good."

Zhang Sanxian slowly rose to his feet. "Now—I can go kill someone."

At this moment, the cold desolation outside Ji'an Tavern stood in stark contrast to the scene within, separated by only a window.

Inside the tavern was a different world altogether—scalding hot and roaring with life.

Here, the smoke from burning oil lamps mingled with the smells of sweat and liquor, forming a stifling, turbid haze.

Sticky and thick, it rolled and boiled, while the clamor of voices rose up like a pot of water at a furious boil.

And amid that boiling-pot atmosphere, the tavern hall was crammed full with seventeen or eighteen crude wooden tables.

Upon each square table, scraps of food lay scattered and cups and plates were strewn in disarray.

Seated around those wooden tables were mostly jianghu men of every sort.

Some were rough and unrestrained by nature. Once they had eaten and drunk to their hearts' content, they bared the savage tattoos and scars on their chests, slapping the tables as spittle flew from their mouths amid booming laughter and shouts.

Others were grim and aloof, their eyes sharp as hawks. Even while eating, drinking, and talking, they kept a tight grip on the hilts of their blades and swords, their gazes constantly sweeping the surrounding crowd in vigilance.

There were also dust-covered merchants, their faces bearing both shrewd caution and the exhaustion of long travel. They kept their ears perked, listening closely