Martial Cultivator Chapter 217: Countless Others

Chapter 217: Countless Others

Rainwater Commandery, dark clouds gathered. Upttodated from n(0)/v𝒆lbIn/.(co/m

A heavy storm was about to arrive in an instant.

Looking at the weather, many civilians in Rainwater Commandery quietly walked out of their houses and put away the clothes hanging outside.

“What’s that?”

Suddenly, a voice sounded out. It was one of the residents of Rainwater Commandery. They looked up and saw that the dark clouds in the sky were suddenly torn apart. A vibrant rainbow appeared in the clouds, landing far away.

Before they could get an answer, bright motes of light appeared in the distant sea of clouds. This time, they saw it clearly, those were several figures that appeared among the clouds, resembling celestial beings.

The faces of the people turned pale, and without hesitation, they began to gather their clothes. Someone even left their clothes behind, rushing back into their homes and closing their doors tightly, not daring to take another look!

Those figures that appeared among the clouds were naturally not legendary immortals, but rather great cultivators from the foreign lands.

These great cultivators normally cultivated in the mountains and rarely ventured out. However, they came here now, it was obvious that something major was happening here.

Those civilians dared not look. Actually, even if they did, they would not be able to discern the identities of those great cultivators, let alone know which sect they belonged to.

But in reality, these great cultivators were all existences whose fame shook the world.

If they could see that white lotus blossoming among the clouds, they would know that a certain eminent monk from Buddhism had arrived,

And more than one of such remarkable individuals came today.

The black clouds were torn asunder by countless streams of light, erasing any sign of impending rain.

They had come from various places. Now that they gathered here, they were proceeding towards that Sublime Bright Mountain.

When everyone did not dare to look at those formidable figures in the sky, a secluded little tavern hidden in a narrow alley was pushed open by someone.

.

A middle-aged man who seemed to be wandering aimlessly opened his mouth to yell, “Do you still have any of that sorghum wine?”

Hearing this familiar yet unfamiliar voice, the elderly tavern shopkeeper who was sitting behind the counter opened his eyes slowly. Only then, did those bunched up wrinkles relax a little, but his vision was still cloudy. The old man looked at the middle-aged man before him, unable to see clearly.

“Who is it?”

His voice was very old, like the tables and chairs in the tavern, weathered by countless years, and had become mottled with age.

The middle-aged man laughed and scolded, “Your sorghum wine is so terrible. So many years have passed, could there be a second person who likes it other than me?”!

The old shopkeeper immediately burst into laughter. Hearing this, he already knew who the visitor was. He hurriedly tottered over and poured a large bowl of sorghum wine, carried it over, and placed it in front of the middle-aged man. Finally, he got a clear look at the middle-aged man and was immediately taken aback, “How come you haven’t aged a bit?”

The wine bowl in his hand trembled and quite a bit of the liquor spilled out. Fortunately, the middle-aged man was quick to react, snatching the bowl and catching the spilled sorghum wine. He then took a sip, the taste of the alcohol the exact same. The middle-aged man smacked his lips and grinned, “How could I not have aged? It’s just that drinking your wine slows down aging.”

The old shopkeeper returned to his senses and just chuckled to himself as he said, “I’ve figured it out too, you’re probably not an ordinary person. I don’t care who you are either, as long as you enjoy my sorghum wine. It’s a family recipe, but for some reason, it seems a bit off since it was passed on to me. All the other alcohols sell pretty well, but only you seem to love this one.”

The middle-aged man smiled and did not speak. He just drank the alcohol in silence.

“You haven’t been here for a decade or two, why did you think of coming to take a look now? Don’t say that you have cravings for my sorghum wine, you only drink one bowl every time, I won’t believe it.”

The old shopkeeper’s face full of wrinkles bunched up together. No one could tell whether he was angry or not.

The middle-aged man smiled and looked at the half-empty wine bowl as he said, “I was passing by, or perhaps not. I wanted to take a look, but now, I’ve lost interest again. So, after finishing this bowl, I’ll have to head back.”