The next morning, Thousand Waves City did not wake up to the gentle chirping of birds, but to the rhythmic, thunderous shouting of Peng Clan criers echoing through every major thoroughfare.
"The Patriarch's Benevolence! A gift for the people!" they bellowed, their voices amplified by minor wind-talismans. "Fifteen Gold for the Dragon-Tiger Marrow Pill! Sixty Gold for the Violet Vein Qi-Cyclone Pill! Why pay for Tang arrogance when the Peng Clan offers the path to absolute strength for less price?"
The city went absolutely ballistic.
If the previous day had been a refined shift in the market, today was a stampede. In the lower-tier districts, where mercenaries lived six to a room and independent cultivators scavenged for spirit-grass, the news was like a spark in a dry forest.
