Jiyan slowly uttered a name. "Shen Chuanlian."
It was his name before he became the Demon God, and apart from that old man, the Patriarch of the Mystic Sect, no one in the world knew it.
Everyone who had known it had died a thousand years ago.
"Shen Chuanlian? What a lovely name." Liu Wan smiled, silently turning the name over in her mind.
Her daughter had told her that the Demon God was called Jiyan.
But judging by the boy's expression, he did not seem to be lying.
She felt a little more at ease.
The carriage soon arrived at the finest clothing shop in the Capital. Jingxu Pavilion had been in business longer than any other shop here, and its tailors were all seasoned veterans. Many of Liu Wan's clothes had been made here.
There was no shortage of dignitaries and nobles here, so beggars or vagrants sometimes lurked outside, waiting for the ladies to emerge in high spirits after buying suitable clothes, then seizing the chance to ask for money.
If the ladies received clothes they were pleased with, they would naturally be happy. Rather than invite bad luck, they would give them some silver.
But if they were unhappy, or the beggars encountered a difficult lady, they might well be beaten on her orders.
Liu Wan got out of the carriage with the two children. Zi Mu was already grown enough to simply follow behind her, while Shen Chuanlian caused no fuss either. His beautiful face, however, wore a thoroughly gloomy expression.
He looked as though everyone owed him a fortune.
A neatly dressed elderly woman greeted Liu Wan with a smile. "Greetings, Your Highness. Were you pleased with the clothes we sent to the Ninth Prince's Residence last month? Oh, your timing today couldn't be