That night, Wu Wang sat by the window of the small building. Two cups of wine and a few small dishes were laid out on the round table before him as he drank alone.
Sometimes the wind would sweep through the bamboo tops, and quiet whispers could be heard from the distant alleys.
Ever since returning from the Punishment Hall, Wu Wang had carried a faint melancholy. Now, this melancholy rose to his throat, turning into a few quiet sighs.
Perhaps he felt pity for Daoist Wancai, or perhaps he was missing the carefree days in the Northern Wilderness, mingled with an even deeper homesickness.
"Sigh."
Wu Wang let out a slight sigh. He picked up a piece of the snack Suqing had made and found it a bit too bland.
I'm craving meat, the real deal.
"Isn't the Sect Master getting beaten up... cough, practicing Body Cultivation today?"
