Wang Feng got up. He glanced at all the used-up spirit stones piled up around him. His heart ached. His wealth was largely tied to the Shoushan sect, and he was now in debt as far as the capital city was concerned. "Let's have the Emperor pay for it." He was not sure Yao Long would be willing to cough up some spirit stones. The wealth he burned was nothing to scoff at to your average cultivator, but to an emperor, it was nothing.
He requested a meeting with his majesty, and in the afternoon he was accepted. When he arrived, Shi Hong and Yao Long were sharing a bottle of immortal wine. It was clear that they had come to an understanding.
