"Liu Suanban, you've been talking about Tiger Den for three days straight. Aren't you tired of it?"
The storyteller sprayed spittle as he spoke from the stage, but someone in the private tea-room seating had grown impatient and slammed the table.
"Exactly!"
"Our ears have practically grown calluses. Every day it's either the Four Seas Eight Wastelands Hall or the Western Desert Blade Riders, with three heads and six arms, blue faces and fangs. It's getting annoying just listening to it."
The other guests chimed in and egged him on.
"Please forgive me, Sixth Lord!"
Storyteller Liu Suanban was not fazed. "It's just that Tiger Den has been eliminated, the trade routes are open, and the prices of rice, flour, oil, and salt have all dropped a little. Seeing that all of you lords will be able to make a fortune from now on, I, Old Liu, couldn't help being happy!"
"That's true."
"It really is a good thing. As for making a fortune... that's hard to say."
The Sixth Lord revealed a faint smile, then mused.
Jiang Ding noticed that several other guests dressed in obviously wealthy attire wore similar expressions.
The Eastspirit Mountains were a chaotic region where bandits and thieves gathered naturally.
Previously, Tiger Den had merely gathered and incorporated them. Without Tiger Den, other bandits would appear, though they would not be as powerful.
If they were to be eradicated at the root, it would still depend on how the government governed the region and whether it could prevent large numbers of dispossessed farmers from having no way to survive.
"Lords, Tiger Den was merely a scourge in one part of Eastspirit Prefecture. Do you know that something earth-shaking has happened in recent days?"
Liu Suanban smacked the storyteller's block, drawing the tea-house guests' gazes over.