This Sword Cultivator is Somewhat Dependable

Chapter 478: Chapter 15: Where the Duke of Thunder Resides_3

However, the troubles caused by this matter had not erupted by the time he crossed over.

Naturally, he knew nothing about it.

Because he knew nothing, he miscalculated the ruthlessness of the Netherworld.

He simply wanted to catch a couple of carp.

But what bit the hook were a school of piranhas.

….

...

Amid the endless desert, a lone plume of smoke rises; the Long River Sunset is round.

This is a land abandoned.

Under the blood-red afterglow of the setting sun, in a narrow canyon, stands a dilapidated village on the battered, sandy ground.

This is a tribe named ‘Sheep,’ much like the tenacious saxaul, deeply rooted in the most remote reaches of the Mogao Desert.

It’s hard to imagine how such a frail tribe like ‘Sheep’ could have existed so long in such harsh conditions.

A small girl, black and skinny as iron, wearing a woolen robe and with hair like dry grass, is carefully making her way back to the camp, carrying a basket bigger than she is on her back.

Inside the basket are stalks of wild grass, each with pale purple buds.

The girl didn’t know the name of this wild grass; she only knew that not only the leaves could feed the sheep, but the sweet-tasting roots hidden underground were also a favorite of the sheep.

So, the villagers called this kind of grass sheep grass.

The girl’s name was Yang Qing’er, a native child of the ‘Sheep’ tribe.

Her parents died fighting a wolf demon to protect the tribe’s sheep when she was only two years old.

After that, she grew up in the Clan Leader’s home. @@novelbin@@

In the tribe, this was quite common, as there were quite a few orphans just in the Clan Leader’s household alone.

Occasionally, she would gaze at the starry sky at night before sleep, and wonder, what might the world outside be like?

But that was just wondering.

Boom!

A deafening roar of thunder emerged out of nowhere, like a thunderclap.

In the future, such a loud thunderclap could scare children into hiding their heads under the covers, or even cause grown women to scream in fright, but it was completely ignored by the frail Yang Qing’er.

It wasn’t that she was brave; she had simply grown accustomed to the sound of thunder, having heard it for a good seven or eight years since she was born. What was there to fear?

“However, it seems that the Duke of Thunder has been getting angrier more frequently these past few years,” mumbled Yang Qing’er.

In earlier years, you would hear such loud thunderstorms maybe once every two or three days.

But recently, it seems you can hear it three or four times a day.

She glanced carefully toward the deep canyon whose end she could not see and quickened her pace toward the camp.

Clan Leader Grandpa said that the thunder came from deep in that canyon and had been there for a very long time.

It was highly probable that a Duke of Thunder lived inside.

She was somewhat curious, but had no intention of venturing to find out.

When even surviving was difficult, who had the time to research such things?

Carrying the large basket on her back, with steps both small and hurried, Yang Qing’er suddenly came to an abrupt stop—the basket swung violently, nearly toppling her over.

Because, in front of her, there appeared a stranger.

The stranger was a handsome young man with a kind smile.

Really handsome indeed. Compared to the most handsome and capable Black Sheep Brother of their tribe, he was like… like… like the moon beside a little star.

The man’s clothing was very strange, completely different from that of the villagers, but it was extremely delicate.

Even the best seamstress in the tribe couldn’t make such fine clothes!

Yang Qing’er thought to herself, and then glanced at the man again, a bit shyly.

The man magically produced a delicately crafted ‘food’ item, like pulling a rabbit out of a hat.

It was round, somewhat like the moon in the sky, and a sweet fragrance wafted toward her, causing Yang Qing’er to swallow involuntarily.

She had never eaten such a thing before, didn’t even know what it was, but she was sure it must taste good.

Because it smelled so good that just the smell alone made one salivate.

The man offered the pastry, “This is for you.”

“For me?” the little girl paused.

The man nodded affirmatively, “For you.”

Yang Qing’er hesitated, but in the end, couldn’t resist the temptation. She cautiously wiped her hands on the corner of her robe and carefully took this food she had never seen before.

She didn’t dare to eat it, holding it like a hot potato, feeling awkward and flustered.

“Don’t be afraid, I just want to ask how much you know about that place,” the man said, pointing behind Yang Qing’er.

That place was deep in the canyon, where the Duke of Thunder resided.