Xiao Zhang somewhat arduously opened his eyes. Seeing the tense expressions on the faces of the ordinary people by his side, he felt rather strange.
In the eyes of cultivators, he was just a battle maniac. They feared him, but when had there ever been anyone who revered and wanted to protect him?
Back then, he had only said that the winter wild tea of Fengyang City was good because he truly felt that it was countless times better than the Great Crimson Gown that Liang Wangsun liked to drink. When had he ever thought about the benefits it would bring to the inhabitants of this remote city?
But now these ordinary people that he would normally find himself too lazy to even glance at were now standing in front of him. Even though they were well aware that they might die, and their hands trembled, they refused to leave.
