When he heard the voice of the boy named Yang, Li Huowang snapped out of his daze and realized they had already reached the outskirts of the small town.
In front of him stood several stone-built cottages, with a broad, spacious stockyard stretching out before them. Camels, sheep, and horses were each penned in separate enclosures, and the pungent smell of livestock assaulted his senses. The people inside seemed to have noticed Li Huowang. Their gazes turned toward him in unison.
Judging from their clothing, it was easy to tell this family made their living from this trade. This also indirectly showed that the Daoist Boy was different from Xiaoman; she hadn't been sold, and her family was well-off.
Taking the ash urn from the boy named Yang, Li Huowang took a deep breath, composed himself, and walked toward them.
Seeing Li Huowang approach, a robust man pushed a horse aside and stepped up to meet him. "Here to buy livestock?"
