Wu Pifu had money—plenty of it.
Not to mention that just by casually walking around, the money of passersby could easily be considered his.
Inside his personal space alone lay gold worth an immense fortune.
And gold, in the vast majority of eras and civilizations, was hard currency—always highly valued.
Wu Pifu walked forward with the little beggar beside him, but he didn’t bother taking money from those on the street.
It wasn’t that he suddenly developed a moral high ground, far from it.
The truth was, killing intent surged in his heart like a rising tide.
If he actually tried stealing from those people now, the entire path from here to there would be littered with bodies.
As they walked, Wu Pifu suddenly said, “The writing on that signboard reads: ‘Yellow skin, black skin, and dogs shall not enter.’”
The little beggar blinked and rolled his eyes but said nothing.
Apparently, he didn’t quite understand what those words truly meant.
Wu Pifu paused slightly and said, “It’s the understanding of the times…”