Chu Zhiyuan's voice spread like the tide rising, slowly and inexorably, reaching everywhere and penetrating every corner.
Everyone on Four Directions Pavilion Street heard it and knew about it.
Cheng Yunzheng and Cheng Yunqi, who were talking inside the house, were startled, as well as two young men in purple robes.
Cheng Yunzheng frowned.
His face turned pale, and his expression became somber. He turned and approached the window, looking out below.
At the same time, the window lattices facing the street opened one after another.
The tavern patrons poked their heads out, and even the storyteller in the teahouse dropped his clapper and squeezed to the railing to watch the commotion.
Pedestrians on both sides of the street turned to look, surrounding Chu Zhiyuan.
Chu Zhiyuan stood on the street below, looking up at him with a grin.
The people around him made way.
Chu Zhiyuan stood alone in a large empty circle, three meters in diameter.
