Zhao Hai sat on his horse and stared blankly at the people on the streets of Wind Ridge city. His mind was in a daze for a moment. He had never expected that there would be so many cultivators in Wind Ridge city, and they were all weak. To be honest, this had really frightened him.
&Quot; hey, brother, is this your first time in Fengling city? " Just as Zhao Hai was in a daze, a voice suddenly sounded beside him. Zhao Hai's expression changed. He turned around abruptly and found a cultivator of the bichen realm standing not far away from him, looking at him.
This cultivator didn't look very old, only about 30 years old. Zhishang was wearing a dirty and worn cultivator's robe, and his face was full of beard, looking very sloppy.