In fact, his disheveled hair and ragged clothes were just how this old beggar appeared to ordinary people, or to normal cultivators. But to him, this old beggar appeared entirely different.
Donning a purple robe with complex Taoist patterns, a jade hairpin with a carved flying dragon, and a gold crown etched with stars, this old fellow's true form was far more flamboyant than his outward sloppy appearance.
Hardly anyone could see through him, and the roast chicken in his hand was not simply that. The spiritual qi contained within had transformed into substance, all of which were hidden under the crisp skin without leaking out.
"Naturally crispy and tender, do you doubt this old beggar's skills, or his divine power?"
The old beggar looked at Feng Qing'an with some surprise, then laughed. Before he came down the mountain, he swiped over a dozen immortal cranes residing in the headmaster's house. By now, most of them had already filled his belly.
"Here, have a taste!"
