To the major powers, poor people are like pigs; how could they possibly be willing to spend a lot of money on medicinal herbs?
"Not doing people any favors!" Zhang Chen complained irritably. These people spread their beliefs, but besides giving a bit of food, they do nothing, maximizing every ounce of value.
Putting down his teacup, Zhang Chen descended the stairs and walked toward Prince Pingbian's Mansion.
As he walked, he gradually calmed down and contemplated the causes and effects. Countless clues flashed like threads in his mind, weaving a pattern.
"The Zhang Family in Shangjing, the Eight Great Clans, Prince Pingbian's Mansion... it's truly a grand chess game." Zhang Chen muttered to himself.
Zhang Chen increasingly felt the various entanglements were extraordinarily complex.
Arriving at Prince Pingbian's Mansion, he was stopped by a guard: "This is a royal precinct; unauthorized individuals must not linger."
