Gambling like this was like being fish in water for him and he had no issues blending in.
At the next table over, several men in fine traveling cloaks—mud-streaked from the road, but still finely embroidered—sat with drinks in hand, talking in loud, careless voices. Their guards stood nearby, relaxed but alert. These weren't just hired hands—these were seasoned escorts, probably cultivators themselves, sworn to protect their rich clients.
And the clients? Clearly part of the caravan.
"—told you, the Mist Eye sect's main trade isn't pills or weapons. It's spirit ores! The veins in the Mist Shroud are rich, and they've locked down the best ones."
"Bah, you and your ores. I saw a whole wagon loaded with blue lotus pods. Alchemical grade. You know what that stuff sells for in Yunhe?"
"They're doing something big, though. Trust me. This ain't just a trade route. They're clearing the Caldera."
"Clearing it?"
