The City of the Past Has Returned

Yang Guyun glanced at him.

Zhou Qiubai did not explain.

He set the empty bowl on the railing, turned around, leaned back against it, and lifted his head to look at the sky.

Deep in the firmament, the last shooting star dragged a faint tail across the zenith, then vanished into the night.

"The one on the hundredth floor," Yang Guyun suddenly said.

"Mm."

"What was his name?"

Zhou Qiubai fell silent for a while.

"Who knows?"

Yang Guyun did not ask any further.

Things that existed in memories of the past could stay in the past.

After all, that was life. You could remember someone, but you could not keep them in your heart forever.

And Zhou Qiubai's road had only just begun.

The lights of the Upper Cliff teahouse were still flickering. Old Zhao squatted by the entrance, and when he saw Zhou Qiubai walking over from the cliffside, he pointed at the seat across from him.

"Sit."

Zhou Qiubai did not sit. He set the empty wine bowl on the tea table, picked up a bamboo chair himself, straddled it backward, and tilted his head as he sized up Dantai Canglan.

"City Affairs Officer, out on night patrol?"

"I know you did that on purpose, brat." He set down his teacup, his voice sinking. "But since the words were spoken, they count. From now on, you are the city lord."

He picked up his teacup and raised it toward Zhou Qiubai.

Zhou Qiubai did not answer.

Forget it. City lord it was.

It was nothing more than an extra identity, anyway.

News traveled across Douluo Continent at a speed practically faster than Zhou Qiubai's tower climb.

In just a week, from Tiandou City to Spirit City, from the seven great sects to the Rogue Cultivators wandering from