"Why did you do this?"
Hearing Old Su's question, Xu Yun was momentarily at a loss for words.
Indeed.
Why?
A strange emotion suddenly surged in Xu Yun's heart.
Anger.
Confusion.
And shame.
Perhaps in future generations, in that changed era.
Every compatriot of Huaxia, with similar experiences as mine, would choose the same path after coming to this dynasty...
Perhaps it could be called...
A common Huaxia person's national sentiment?
Then Xu Yun glanced at Old Su, his gaze lingering on his somewhat withered left hand for a while, and said to Old Su:
"Sir, would you like to hear a story?"
Old Su was silent for a moment, then answered:
"Go on."
Xu Yun nodded to him, took a deep breath, and said slowly:
"A few years ago, I had a dream."
"In the dream, my name was Wu Fan, and I was just an ordinary person selling milk a thousand years later."
"A thousand years later?"
Upon hearing this, Old Su was suddenly a little interested:
