When the group left Wanbaoge, Qian Wanguan personally saw them off at the door.
Before leaving, he glanced at Chen Ping’s retreating figure a few more times and whispered to the waiter beside him, “Remember this person. First-grade Golden Immortal, wearing a blue robe, accompanied by a white-clad woman using ice-type techniques. Next time you come, just bring him here.”
“Understood!” the waiter nodded.
As Chen Ping left, he took out some crystals from his storage ring and gave them to Zhao Tieshan. Chen Ping had said that these things were for them and he wouldn’t take them back.
Zhao Tieshan accepted the crystal, his face filled with gratitude and shock.
The other nine cultivators stared at the scene with their mouths agape, mouths agape enough to fit eggs.
Two hundred and forty thousand!
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