Xiao Chen went directly to the seventh floor, chose a seat by the window, and ordered a pot of Ice Orchid Tea. Although the tea was famous, he could only pretend to drink it without actually enjoying it.
All the private rooms had been reserved, and even the public seats were almost full. Recently, fewer literati and artists—who loved to compose poetry and paint—had been coming, but the number of cultivators had been increasing. This was due to the tumultuous state of the Cultivation World.
At noon, the Misty Rain Building was fully packed on all floors. People clinked their glasses, engaged in lively discussions about past and present matters, creating a vibrant atmosphere.
Xiao Chen sat alone. He sensed that almost ninety percent of the people in the building were cultivators, among whom were some that had immense and inscrutable strength.
"Look at us, the Outstanding Men of Jiuzhou, our heads are kept low due to the powerhouses of the alien clans. It's stifling..."
