Chieftain Jin was equally stunned. He glanced left and right but failed to recognize the disguised Taciturn Daoist Priest. “You know me?”

I had journeyed all the way to Great Xia in search of its top storyteller. Why does this man recognize me?

Am I that famous?

Chieftain Jin grew wary. His aura circulated, murderous energy slicing through his collar. He suspected the other party was a creditor, but then recalled his only creditor was now the Meng Family.

“It’s me, the Taciturn Daoist Priest,” the Taciturn Daoist Priest said in a low voice, unafraid of exposing his identity. He had no grudges with the Qiongqi Tribe.

I’m someone with principles; I choose who I deceive carefully—I don’t scam the poor. The Qiongqi Tribe is poor enough; no need to torment them further.

As for Chieftain Jin accidentally stumbling into the Nine-Netherworlds Creed, that’s Eighth Elder’s doing. What does...