"That's true, otherwise he would have starved to death if he had just stayed at home for three months."
Xiao Hei continued to praise, "Really, there aren't many original owners who can impress me. This one is one of them. He only started learning martial arts when he was over twenty, and he managed to go from a complete novice to a third-rate expert. You've also learned martial arts, so you know how difficult that is."
"It's rare to hear you praise the original owner," Fang Zhiyi said, then examined her own body. "I still have old injuries, and two of my tendons are severed. In that respect, I am indeed a remarkable person."
"With your abilities, taking revenge shouldn't be too difficult, right?" Xiao Hei asked.
"Do you take me for a god? Or are you a god?" Fang Zhiyi retorted.
Xiao Hei was taken aback.
“This isn’t cultivation. Once your meridians are broken, they’re broken. Even if I…” Fang Zhiyi slowly made a move, trying to sense the internal energy within his body, “at most, I’d only be a second-rate expert, and that’s assuming I have more experience than him.”
"Then...it's difficult to handle?"
"It's not impossible." Fang Zhiyi breathed a sigh of relief. The spot where the original owner was hit by Jiang Gucheng was still aching. This guy actually went to take revenge despite such an injury?
"Even though I can't win, I'm already here..." Fang Zhiyi muttered to himself as he walked forward step by step.
Hongyun Bookstore was one of the few shops that was open. The owner was an old man who was staring blankly at the door when suddenly a figure entered his field of vision. When he saw who it was, the old man was stunned.
Why is this thug in the bookstore? You know, Fang Zhiyi wanders the streets all year round and has never even stepped into her own house. At most, she sits on the doorstep eating pears she's stolen.
"Boss, can I get a few books to read?" Fang Zhiyi casually greeted.
The old man looked at him without saying a word.
Fang Zhiyi also displayed the original owner's rogue spirit, treating the bookstore like his own home. He started picking and choosing among the thread-bound books, flipping through a few before casually tossing them aside. This was his habit; he wanted to understand the culture and fonts of this world first, and reading was the most convenient way to do so.
The old man rolled his eyes at him, then silently stepped forward and put the book back in its place.
This guy can read? No way, Fang Zhiyi would be lucky if she could even write her own name in its entirety.
Perhaps he had been provoked, the old man sighed, and walked to the door, staring blankly outside.
The sky was so overcast it looked like it was about to rain.
He was so engrossed in watching that he didn't notice when Fang Zhiyi left. He opened the door for a while, but there were no customers. The old man got up and closed the door, a single, cloudy tear rolling down his wrinkled face.
A few days later, the streets finally started to come alive again, some vendors started doing business again, and merchants from other places also came one after another, and the streets gradually became lively.
However, the white ribbons lining both sides of the street seemed rather out of place.
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