"Top-quality fermented liquor for sale~~~"
"Fried buns with meat or vegetable fillings, pick as you like!"
"Qingzhou's old wine, Apricot Blossom Ferment, not mellow, no charge!"
"Candied hawthorn sticks here~~~"
The clamorous shouts of street vendors rose and fell in succession.
After all, the QiLa mask would take another month before he could shuttle back again.
Lin Xin was not in a hurry; in the practice of cultivation, years mattered little, and for hundreds of years, he had devoted himself solely to it.
At this moment, away from the dim mansion, away from all threats, and in this world, it was very likely that he was the only cultivator.
He completely relaxed his mind.
Leisurely strolling, he walked on the right side of the street.
Taking a basket of fried buns from a vendor, he nibbled with bamboo chopsticks, half a bun at a time, savoring slowly.
