"Fellow Daoist Lu, do me a favor, lend me some cotton clothes to keep out the cold."
The cultivator surnamed Meng looked a little pale; the cold spiritual wind could affect one's qi and blood, and at a certain level it became truly painful.
Clearly, this tough-talking cultivator was already at the end of his rope.
"Fellow Daoist Meng, if I lend them to you, my own body won't hold up."
Meng knew he had no grounds to argue, paused in silence, and managed a forced smile, saying, "This cold spirit wind's been raging for almost half a month. It should pass in a few days. You can totally tough it out for a bit."
Lu Chang'sheng kept his mouth shut and just walked past him.
The more you engage with this type, the more they'll push it—best to just ignore them.
"This guy's targeting me because I'm weaker and easier to bully."
Walking through the market, cultivators bundled up in thick cotton clothes passed by from time to time.
