The autumn rain dripped slowly, resembling a broken string of beads cascading down from the gray tile eaves.
Li Yuan extended his palm, large as a mat with patches of hair, and caught a small amount of autumn rain.
Once the rainwater accumulated in his palm, he brought it to his lips and drank it all at once.
A refreshing sensation spread through him.
This made him exhale contentedly.
If a person lacks money, they chase wealth; if they lack strength, they pursue power; if they have no wife, they seek a fair maiden.
But all of these things, Li Yuan has possessed and still possesses; though he never tires of them, he is a "prosperous" man, not "deprived."
Though this land still harbors many mysterious elements, he does not constantly tense himself nor immediately seek out terrifying enemies upon breaking through, only to be swept into even more terrifying whirlpools.
