Yuan City, small and old, was more like a larger town than a small city. No one could remember when it was built. The reddish-brown city walls were marked with the passage of time, showing many cracks.
Ye Fan walked in the city, feeling the ancient and worn-out aura from the sediment of years, where the stone tablets on the streets were worn down by the passing cultivators.
"Hey there, young man, new to Yuan City, right? Looking to buy Sources? Come check out our Stone Pavilion; we guarantee you'll find a strange black stone you like."
"Little Daoist, do you need good materials brought from the Great Primordial Mine's edge? They're authentic. Come in for a look."
On both sides of the street, many shops operated, dealing in various Sources, enthusiastically inviting cultivators passing by.
Ye Fan did not dare to underestimate these people. Despite the small shops, they all had deep backgrounds and various connections with the Sacred Lands.
