“Thank you, Sixth Senior Brother.” Ning Shiyue’s eyes sparkled with brilliant joy as she smiled. She also casually scooped up a share of spirit stones for Qin Hanyan.
Feng Qingran swept her gaze over the spirit stones on the ground. Each share contained at least a hundred thousand premium spirit stones—equivalent to one billion lower-grade spirit stones.
Having hung around her generous Sixth Senior Brother for so long, Feng Qingran had almost forgotten what lower-grade spirit stones even looked like.
Without any pretense, Feng Qingran helped herself to a share.
After that, she went on to prepare some spirit stones for everyone else as well.
She included upper-grade, middle-grade, and lower-grade spirit stones—a full range.
After all, this place wasn’t like the others. Flash premium spirit stones around too casually in the black market, and you’d be marked as an easy target for extortion.
“Little Junior Sister, where… where did you get so many spirit stones?” Ning Shiyue’s eyes went wide. The spirit stones that their youngest junior sister had prepared were no fewer than what Sixth Junior Brother had brought!
“I… sold some talismans earlier.” Feng Qingran blinked her almond-shaped eyes, feeling a tad guilty.
“If any of you have things you want to sell, you can bring them in too.” Tang Chonglou spoke up, cutting off Ning Shiyue’s follow-up questions.
Baili Wenyue rubbed his chin, gazing at the spirit stones before him in deep thought.
It seemed their Little Junior Sister had quite a few secrets they didn’t know about?
Just then—
Mo Jinghong’s deep voice rang out: “Give me your tokens for a moment.”
Baili Wenyue’s train of thought was interrupted. He pulled out his token and handed it to Mo Jinghong.
Feng Qingran immediately offered her token to Mo Jinghong as well.
Ning Shiyue and Qin Hanyan didn’t hesitate
The elderly man had a head full of white hair and looked deeply worn by time.
When he noticed Feng Qingran looking his way, he put on a trembling, timid demeanor and didn’t dare to speak.
Feng Qingran sidestepped over to stand before him. A flicker of cunning passed through her eyes, then she deliberately put on an aloof tone: “Open the painting in your hands. Let me have a look.”
The people standing near the old man—the very ones who had been intimidated by Feng Qingran moments ago—all changed their expressions.
This little girl was definitely doing this on purpose!
A burly, fierce-looking man spoke in a cold voice: “Little girl, what’s there to see in a worn-out painting? We’ve got things here far more precious than some picture, and you won’t even give them a glance. Are you deliberately trying to insult us?”
“Exactly! I thought you were a girl who knew quality, but it turns out you’re only interested in picking up trash! What terrible taste…” a middle-aged aunt chimed in with a biting, sarcastic tone.
“Little girl, don’t say I didn’t warn you—this old man has scammed quite a few people before. Just look at him, an old codger like that—what good could he possibly have to sell?” a sharp-tongued woman added.
Another middle-aged man joined in: “Little miss, you’re new here, so you really ought to take our advice. We’d never steer you wrong! Whatever you do, don’t buy anything from him!”
…
One after another, they all tried to persuade Feng Qingran with earnest, well-meaning words, desperately trying to stop her from buying from the old man.
The old man kept his head down, looking like he didn’t dare to talk back to any of them.
“The rule here should be free trade, shouldn’t it? Could you all please shut up?” Feng Qingran’s stunning eyes were bright as pearls and radiant as spring blossoms, yet the aura around her was cold as ice.
At the mention of “rules,” the others muttered indignantly under their breath: “Hmph! Go ahead and get scammed, you ungrateful little wretch who can’t tell good from bad!”
“Old sir, open the painting and let me see it.” Feng Qingran’s words flowed like pearls from her lips, her voice crisp and clear. Every gesture she made carried an air of refined nobility, leaving no room for offense.
The others exchanged glances, a glint of shrewdness flashing in their eyes. Just as they’d hoped—this little girl had taken the bait!
The old man’s hands trembled as he took a step back, his voice fearful: “Miss, I—I wouldn’t dare sell this to you. Don’t look at it anymore. Please, just go.”
Hearing this, Feng Qingran’s face remained utterly expressionless. She turned and walked away.
The entire group froze in stunned silence. Why wasn’t this girl following the script?
Wasn’t she supposed to be intrigued by the old man’s words and ask him why?
Then the old man would play up his misery, stirring her rebellious streak and her sympathy?
After that, she’d insist on buying the painting, and the old man would seize the chance to jack up the price…
The group exchanged glances and decided to switch tactics. One of them shot a meaningful look at a burly, muscular man.
“Little girl, what’s the meaning of this? Are you just toying with an old man?” The man stormed over to Feng Qingran in a huff, blocking her path.
“He wouldn’t let me see it, so I left. Is there a problem?” Feng Qingran’s gaze sharpened, flashing with a mesmerizing, almost hypnotic gleam.
The moment she’d asked about the painting, she’d already sensed that the old man and this whole group were in cahoots.
In an environment like the black market, nobody could stay clean.
The man choked on the words he’d prepared, glancing toward his accomplices not far away.
Feng Qingran ignored him and tried to step around him. The man thrust out his arm to block her.
“You can’t leave! If you walk away like this, he’ll definitely get bullied. I’ve been here longer than you, so I know more. The reason he didn’t dare sell to you is because he’s afraid he’ll get beaten after you’re gone.” After saying his piece, the man waited for her response.
Feng Qingran folded her arms, her entire body radiating an icy chill. “So? What does any of that have to do with me?”
“I don’t care—you can’t just leave! He’s pitiful. He’s been bullied here all along and has no customers. You’re the only one in years who’s even been willing to look at his painting.” The man tried to stir Feng Qingran’s sympathy.
Cultivators generally tended to sympathize with and help the weak, since doing so could earn them merit and good fortune.
“But he refused to sell me his painting. The black market rules prohibit forcing a trade.” Feng Qingran’s almond-shaped eyes were clear and bright, tinged with chilliness.
These people seemed to be deliberately trying to bait her into breaking the rules.
“How about this—I’ll get him to agree to sell you the painting. What do you say?” the man proposed.
“As long as he agrees and the price is reasonable, I’ll buy it.” A deep, profound glimmer flickered in the depths of Feng Qingran’s eyes.
The man pretended to walk over to the old man and urged him: “Old sir, don’t worry. Go ahead and sell it—I’ve got your back.”
The old man nodded tremblingly, then slowly unrolled the scroll for Feng Qingran to see.
Feng Qingran’s eyes, clear as glazed glass and radiant as spring blossoms, casually swept over the painting before her.
The painting depicted a vast expanse of rolling, winding mountains shrouded in purple mist. Beneath that ethereal haze, clusters of cyan flames seemed to be hidden.
Beyond the mountains, a magnificent jade palace faintly materialized in the distance.
Above the peaks, ten thousand golden rays of morning light cascaded down, rendering the entire scene dreamlike and surreal.
The painting brought together all five elements—heaven and earth were both present, illusion and reality intertwined, encompassing a universe of imagery.
Feng Qingran’s gaze was bright as the spring moon. On the surface, this painting seemed extraordinary—all thanks to the profound skill of its creator.
But tucked within the scroll’s mounting, she detected a faint, unusual aura.
“How many spirit stones for this painting?” Feng Qingran’s eyes sparkled brilliantly even as her voice remained icy cold.
“One hundred thousand lower-grade spirit stones,” the old man said quietly.
Before Feng Qingran could respond—
the burly man burst out in exaggerated shock: “Old sir, this painting is clearly worth a million spirit stones! How can you sell it for only a hundred thousand?”
“Hmph! This old geezer is probably giving her a low price on purpose because she’s pretty!”
“That’s right—when he sold to others before, he always asked for over a million…”
Feng Qingran listened calmly to the noise around her, then said in an icy tone: “A hundred thousand is too expensive. I can only give fifty thousand.”
Everyone: …
So they’d put on this whole act for nothing?
either, performing the same action.
Only Tang Chonglou showed a moment’s reluctance, but seeing everyone else’s movements, he too chose to hand his token over to Mo Jinghong.
Mo Jinghong took Feng Qingran’s token first. With a light tap of his fingertip, a faint red glow flickered across the token, and a strange rune sank into it.
After inscribing all five tokens, Mo Jinghong spoke: “I’ll wait for you outside the sect.”
Hearing that Mo Jinghong planned to stay outside, Feng Qingran thought back to a few years ago, when she’d entered the black market—he hadn’t gone in then either.
Did Seventh Senior Brother really have no curiosity about what the black market looked like?
“Then we’ll trouble Seventh Junior Brother,” Ning Shiyue said, her eyes sparkling like brilliant gems.
“Seventh Junior Brother, rest easy waiting here. If I come across anything good, I’ll grab a share for you too.” With that, Baili Wenyue strode toward the teleportation array.
Ning Shiyue and Qin Hanyan followed suit, stepping onto the array and sitting cross-legged.
Tang Chonglou exchanged a glance with Mo Jinghong. Ever since arriving in Fire Spirit Province, Tang Chonglou had been observing Mo Jinghong closely.
He had been reborn into this body for several decades now.
Most of his power as the Demon Lord had been recovered, and his current strength was equivalent to a human cultivator at the Mahayana stage.
Yet he still couldn’t see through Mo Jinghong. In fact, he had a vague feeling that Mo Jinghong was many times stronger than him.
This made Tang Chonglou deeply uneasy.
Mo Jinghong cast a few sidelong glances at Tang Chonglou, then turned his gaze to Feng Qingran, who was staring right at him. “Little Junior Sister, aren’t you going in?”
“Seventh Senior Brother, aren’t you even the least bit curious about what it’s like inside the black market?” Feng Qingran’s voice was crisp and clear.
“Not curious.”
Just then—
Zhuo Yan suddenly materialized, his tone dripping with contempt: “Hmph! Look at you, acting like you’ve never seen the world before. The trash they sell in the black market isn’t even worth Master’s attention.”
The moment Zhuo Yan appeared, Tang Chonglou’s expression shifted.
He immediately strode toward the teleportation array, sat cross-legged, and entered the black market.
Zhuo Yan sensed a faint ripple of aura and muttered, “Strange… why do I smell demonic energy?”
Feng Qingran narrowed her eyes, fixing Zhuo Yan with a stare. “What a pity. I still haven’t found any strange fire, so I can’t make soup…”
Zhuo Yan flapped his wings frantically. “Evil woman! Evil woman!”
Feng Qingran ground her teeth. “Seventh Senior Brother, you’re missing a birdcage.”
A smile crept across Mo Jinghong’s face—a face that could overturn nations. His voice was warm as he said, “Little Junior Sister, you can buy a birdcage at the black market, but don’t stir up any trouble.”
“I know~” Feng Qingran touched the tip of her fair, jade-like nose. Ever since the Bear-Tiger Ridge incident, Mo Jinghong’s trust in her had plummeted.
“Hmph! A trouble magnet—how could she not stir up trouble?” Zhuo Yan squawked in a rigid, deliberate tone.
Feng Qingran shot Zhuo Yan a glare, couldn’t be bothered to engage, and stepped into the teleportation array, entering the black market.
Mo Jinghong flicked his sleeve, laying down a barrier within the room.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go to the black market.
Rather, the soul power of the one who built the black market was too low. If he entered, the market would collapse from the sheer pressure of his soul power.
Besides, ever since he and Feng Qingran had arrived at the provincial capital—
someone had been tailing them in secret.
Staying outside might just give him the chance to uncover some leads.
——-
On Feng Qingran’s side, the moment she entered the black market, a large crowd swarmed around her.
These people held all sorts of odds and ends in their hands.
A woman dressed like a housewife spoke up: “Little girl, want to buy some magical artifacts? I can give you a good deal!”
“Little girl, don’t listen to her—her stuff is all second-hand. Buy from me, mine are fresh off the forge!”
“Little missy, don’t be fooled by them. Everything they sell is counterfeit. Mine are the real deal…”
“Miss, buy from me! I’ve always run an honest business, and I would never cheat my customers!”
Pfft!—
As soon as that last person finished speaking, a chorus of disdainful snickers erupted from all around.
Feng Qingran’s beautiful eyes swept across the crowd, her divine sense brushing over those surrounding her. Clearly, they were all in soul form.
And yet, in soul form, they could still handle physical objects. It seemed the master behind this black market had some real skill.
Feng Qingran’s gaze swept over the items in each person’s hands, quickly recognizing that nearly everything they were peddling was fake.
“Move aside.” Her voice was cold and crisp. Her slender brows arched lightly, and her eyes shimmered like brilliant stars—like a pool of clear water beneath moonlight, as though filled with flowing radiance. She carried herself with an air of refined nobility and unapproachable dignity.
The crowd looked startled. They had taken her for an easy target, but it turned out they’d stumbled upon a tough nut.
They parted one by one, clearing a path for her.
Feng Qingran stepped forward toward the market ahead. As she passed by an elderly man, she caught a strange, unusual aura.
Her limpid, crystalline almond-shaped eyes glimmered faintly. She shot a sidelong glance at what the old man held in his hand, and her steps slowed just slightly.
