Inner Demons

Li Yunxin fell silent for a moment at these words, then smiled faintly again. "This is the first I've heard of this. Ah... we've talked for so long, yet I don't know how to address you—"

The beggar gave an arrogant smile and straightened up at the table. He had the body of a twelve or thirteen-year-old boy, but after a few cups of wine—looking around the room, all wandering souls became heroes—he now seemed to have a heroic air about him.

"Call me Qingliangzi," the beggar said. "Remember, my Daoist name is Qingliangzi—although this Human Skin Bag changes often, this name will never change!"

Li Yunxin smiled demurely. "Ah, Qingliangzi. Hmm... which Grotto-heaven's title is that?"

Qingliangzi coughed. "I'm not from a Grotto-heaven."

"Ah... then you must be a master from a School—also at the level of a deity."

Qingliangzi frowned slightly. "Hmph, I'm not from any School either."

Although the candlelight was dim, Li Yunxin had keenly captured the change in expression on this mysterious Qingliangzi's face—especially after he had drunk wine and his control over his facial muscles had weakened.

It was a rather familiar expression, one he had seen more than once in his previous life.