Crash—
The heavy rain poured for half an hour, then turned into a continuous drizzle under the influence of a talisman.
Once again in the hall of the prefectural office.
Zhang Feng was leisurely sipping tea, surrounded by a group of prefects and others who were utterly astonished.
They cautiously glanced at the 'great expert' Zhang Feng from time to time, and occasionally looked out at the falling rain.
Such a large-scale magic, praying for rain within a forty-mile radius.
In their minds, this was no longer the magic of a 'Golden Core cultivator,' but rather the great magic of a 'Nascent Soul True Man' from folk myths and legends!
In this world, there is the concept of the Nascent Soul, and even thousands of years ago, there was a Nascent Soul True Man.
Unfortunately, no one in later generations could enter this realm.
But now, in their opinion, this young Golden Core cultivator might have touched the threshold of a Nascent Soul True Man.
Meanwhile.
