Qi Yuan finished speaking and waited earnestly.
This talent, if spoken of, seemed to be able to wield some inexplicable influence.
The unknown world.
Boundless fallen trees, pythons flicking their tongues, light flickering on and off.
The piercing cold wind was like swords, drilling into the body of the old man clad in beast hides, causing him to shiver from the cold.
Suddenly, it was as if a divine melody graced his ears, and he hurriedly knelt down with devout worship, his head banging on the ground with a thud.
He babbled non-stop.
Finally, a flicker of enlightenment flashed through the mind of the old man in beast hides, as if he had discovered something.
"Poor... money..."
These two syllables escaped his lips, and then he knelt on the ground, an expression of ecstatic joy on his face.
He had a grand plan in his heart, to create an object known as money according to the mandate of the gods.
In the Netherworld, Qi Yuan was quite bored.
