"My name is Ye Qingxuan and it will not change. Food is free in the East so why can’t I hitch a ride?" The proud youth with mottled white hair and ragged clothes blocked a caravan. His clothes were ragged because he did not start off with much clothing. His hair was mottled because…his hair dye had faded.
Now, ‘Ye Qingxuan’ pointed at his fading white hair and said proudly, "Do you see this? It’s the noble blood of a Deva! Hurry up and give me your best carriage. Otherwise, I’ll lose my temper."
"Uh…" Donald gripped his sword as his expression twitched. With this situation, he could not fight the man but he could not not fight. Who knew if the man was a musician or not?
He looked to the carriage in the center of the caravan for help but the youth there just blew his whistle without a care. What was wrong with this trip? Why did he keep running into such weird things? Before he could react, a cackle sounded in the air.