So It's the Classic of Poetry!

Zhou Qiubai headed west along the main street.

"City Lord, want a pancake?"

Zhou Qiubai reached out and took a freshly baked pancake.

It was free. No reason not to take it.

A city lord who freeloaded food and drink was truly one of a kind.

Old Zhao asked expectantly, "How does it taste?"

The corner of Zhou Qiubai's mouth curled up slightly as he teased, "Old Zhao, did you put in a little extra salt today?"

"I was busy enough last night, so I specially added more salt for you. Build up your strength."

Zhou Qiubai nearly burned himself, then could not help laughing. As he walked away, he heard Old Zhao shouting behind him, "Don't forget to pay next time you eat a pancake! You still haven't paid for yesterday's!"

The west side of the city was far livelier than the east side.

Nearly six hundred members of the Po and Yu Clans had been settled in an old residential district last night.

Those homes had been built during Canghai City's heyday and abandoned as its population dwindled. Though somewhat old, they were sturdy enough, and could be occupied after a little tidying up.

Besides, the Defense Clan specialized in construction to begin with. They were all from the construction trade, so no one knew better than they did how to fix up a place like this.

When Zhou Qiubai entered the Breaking Clan's temporary quarters, he happened to run straight into Yang Wudi.

Yang Wudi held a list covered in densely written supplies that needed replenishing.

He studied it as he walked, his brow furrowed tightly enough to crush flies. When he saw Zhou Qiubai, he paused for a moment, then put away the list and nodded.

"How did the Breaking Clan settle in last night?" Zhou