Lin Feng had something to snark about, but in the end, he held his tongue.
In theory, he could be a man of Great Ming.
Name any King dynasty in history, and he could belong to it.
Deception was the name of the game.
He had just barely managed to keep a straight face.
He had nearly burst out laughing.
He nodded, feigning aloofness, to indicate that he was indeed from Great Ming. If the man did not believe him, he could even fabricate a bloodline tracing back to a Southern Ming emperor to prove his identity.
After all, the last remnants of Southern Ming had only been wiped out during Kangxi's reign.
That was just a hundred-odd years ago.
If he really wanted to make something up, it was perfectly doable.
To his surprise, however, the Indigenous People actually believed Lin Feng's story. Once he said he was from Great Ming, their hostility toward him diminished considerably.
Some of the Indigenous People even put away their Foreign Sabers and blowguns as a show of goodwill.
They also huddled together, muttering among themselves.
Just as Lin Feng thought things were looking up, one of the Indigenous People beside Gamalang whispered in his ear. Gamalang immediately let out a strange cry, and everyone around them drew their Foreign Sabers, looking ready to hack Lin Feng into eight pieces—Lin Feng believed they really would hack him into eight pieces. Literally. No false advertising.
"You liar! One of my people saw Papa's men personally escort you back!
You're one of Papa's men!"
Gamalang spoke furiously.
At the same time, he wiped at the corners of his eyes. Judging by his tone, he did not seem to consider calling Fifth Uncle Papa a mark of respect.
Just as Stink had said, Fifth Uncle had