The crowd around the Silver Sword Firm slowly dispersed. The ones putting themselves forward were the owners and managers, all smiling like blooming flowers, while Zong Qian, who had stolen the limelight, remained a man of few words.
There was nothing unusual about that. Capable people always had eccentric tempers; it came with the territory. Besides, most genuine Sword Cultivators were just as cold and uninhibited. Anyone who dealt with them often enough knew that this was their character, their style.
Once the people trying to cozy up to him left and a group of Sword Cultivators gathered around instead, the crowd dispersed even faster. No one knew what they said, but everyone could see how respectfully these Sword Cultivators treated Zong Qian. That was the Demonic Sect's way: the fist ruled supreme, and nothing else mattered.
Hou Niao stayed behind the owners of several firms, inwardly rather unimpressed. He was not deliberately playing this game of showing off and slapping faces. He simply did not want his arrival to bring trouble to those who would remain here.
He was only passing through and would soon leave. If he stirred things up too much, he would only introduce uncertainties for those on friendly terms with him. With a storm looming, caution was best.
He had originally intended to seek out White Immortal directly, but who knew she would be attending the grand gathering here, unable to leave for a while? So he had simply slipped in. Eligibility was no problem. Those in the Profound Connection Realm needed an invitation from the Jiedu Prefecture, but those in the Natural Realm could enter directly. No one would stop them.
He had altered his face a little, modeling it on his junior companion Zong Qian. The fellow had been shrouded in mystery for