When Huo Hai and Blood Rose returned to their quarters, they suddenly found the place bustling with activity. Normally, they would hardly see anyone here at this hour. What was going on today?
"Strange. These people don't seem to belong here, do they?" Although Huo Hai rarely went out, his memory was good. He was quite certain he had never seen some of these people before. No, there were others he had seen, and he knew for certain they did not live here. Among the crowd, he even spotted the Bright Yang Kingdom's eldest prince.
That fellow did not live here; he had his own residence. "Sir, take a look at mine! This is fine wine my family has treasured for over a hundred years. You won't find it for sale anywhere!" a young man in the middle of the crowd called out.
His voice was so loud that it was impossible not to hear him. Huo Hai looked into the center of the crowd and spotted an old man with a bleary expression. He frowned. "A Spirit Marshal? Does the Bright Yang Kingdom have someone like him?" Huo Hai found this very strange.
He had been in the Bright Yang Kingdom for so long, yet he had never seen this Spirit Marshal expert. The man was slovenly, and his age was impossible to judge. Of course, once someone reached the spirit marshal realm, appearances were no longer a reliable measure of age. He was slightly plump and utterly unkempt. A reddish, bulbous drinker's nose sat on his face, its nostrils flaring outward.
His eyes were half-closed, as though he could never quite wake up. A large gourd hung at his waist, sloshing with the slightest movement. He held a smaller gourd in his hand, raising it to his lips