“Tianyang Gong, you’re strong, like a brother of mine. Let’s keep in touch more from now on.” At the entrance of the tent, Pan Man rubbed some ointment on his hands and wrapped them with gauze, putting on a show, imitating those scholarly types.
He cupped his hands and saluted Lu Qian with a mock seriousness.
Then he shot him a sly glance and said, “Later on, as your older brother, I have a little something for you. The southern barbarian lands are wild and remote, there’s not much good stuff here, so Tianyang Gong, please don’t look down on it.”
Lu Qian smiled but said nothing, returning the gesture respectfully.
The Southern Barbarian State actually did have good things.
Just the fact that there were at least one hundred rivers here named ‘Golden Sands’ showed the kind of local specialties this place had.
Remote and wild?
The Southern Barbarian State was nowhere near a desolate land.
Sure, the people here were a bit rough, fierce, cruel, and ruthless, but the Southern Barbarian State could perfectly be described as vast and rich in resources, densely populated, and overflowing with wealth.
A token of goodwill like that? Lu Qian would never turn it away.
The brocade curtain encircled a territory roughly an acre in size.