Little Junior Sister, We Can’t Handle This Grind Anymore - Chapter 18

Mo Jinghong led Feng Qingran to a slightly shabby-looking shop.

Inside, the shopkeeper was hunched over an abacus, barely glancing up as they entered before returning to his calculations.

Feng Qingran found it odd. The shop sold only low-grade magical artifacts—common enough elsewhere, but rare for a store to specialize exclusively in them.

Dust coated many of the items, suggesting the owner didn’t care much for business.

Mo Jinghong stepped to the counter and tapped three times in a deliberate rhythm.

The shopkeeper looked up, eyed them, then slid two wooden tokens across the counter. “One top-grade spirit stone each.”

Without a word, Mo Jinghong placed two stones on the table, took the tokens, and handed one to Feng Qingran.

The shopkeeper pocketed the stones. “Time limit: three hours per visit. Twice a month max.”

“Transactions inside are buyer beware—we take no responsibility. Use of spiritual power is forbidden. Break the rules, and the enforcers will destroy your token and eject you.”

With a snap of his fingers, a side door appeared. “Go on in.”

Feng Qingran studied the token. No wonder it’s so expensive—it’s a black market pass.

…..

Beyond the door lay a transportation array.

“The array transports one at a time. You go first, Junior Sister,” Mo Jinghong said softly.

Feng Qingran placed her token on the array. A flash of light later, she stood in a bustling underground street, lined with vendors hawking wares.

No one batted an eye at her sudden appearance—though several called out offers. She ignored them, waiting for Mo Jinghong.

But after a while, he still hadn’t arrived.

“Waiting for someone, little girl?” a nearby vendor asked cheerfully.

Feng Qingran didn’t answer. Instead, she eyed his stall of oddly shaped stones.

“Can I examine them?” she asked cautiously—wary of scams where touching meant buying.

“Of course! No pressure here,” the vendor assured her.

As she reached for a white stone, a voice piped up in her mind:

“Master! The third black stone on the right—that’s dragon bone!”

Feng Qingran’s hand didn’t falter. She picked up the white stone as if nothing had happened.

“Master, hurry! Buy it!” The artifact spirit, Yuan Bao, was practically vibrating with excitement.

Dragon bone?

True dragons had vanished from the Nine Provinces eons ago. Even in the original story, Su Yanran’s divine-grade serpent needed dragon bone to evolve—yet she’d scoured countless realms and found none.

Why is it here now?

“Where did these stones come from?” Feng Qingran asked idly, turning the white stone in her fingers.

“A secret realm. They’re definitely special—otherwise, they wouldn’t be allowed here,” the vendor said, eyes glinting.

Typical black market vagueness.

She set the white stone down and—as if on a whim—picked up the black one.

“Master! There’s ten-thousand-year mystic iron too! The brown stone to your right!” Yuan Bao squeaked. “Buy them before someone else does!”

Feng Qingran remained outwardly indifferent, examining each stone with deliberate slowness.

“Yuan Bao, when you find treasure, stay calm. The more you want something, the more you must pretend you don’t—or it’ll slip away.”

As for competition? Not an issue.

Black market rules guaranteed her priority as long as she didn’t outright refuse a purchase.

After an agonizingly unhurried inspection, she sighed, feigning disappointment.

“Find anything you like?” The vendor smiled eagerly.

“Pretty, but nothing remarkable.” She glanced around the stall. “How about selling me the entire stall? I’ll wait here for my friend.”

The vendor laughed. “Girl, the stall itself costs far more than these stones.”

“How much?”

He held up three fingers.

“Three top-grade spirit stones? Done.”

The vendor’s jaw dropped. He’d meant 300 mid-grade stones—but she’d just offered ten times the value.

(If he’d known Feng Qingran only carried top-grade stones, he might’ve asked for more.)

Grinning, he snatched the stones and stood. “Everything here’s yours!”

“My thanks.” With a casual wave, she stored the stones in her spatial realm.

As the vendor marveled at the purity of the spirit stones’ energy—near heaven-grade quality, usually hoarded for cultivation—he eyed her with new wariness.

This girl… she’s no ordinary customer.