Su Qi met Yun Ting’s gaze, his tone still steady: "For now, there’s only one. This was actually a failed product from card crafting."
Su Qi paused, quickly slipping into his ‘role.’
A hint of helplessness flashed across his face as he smiled self-deprecatingly: "To be honest, my family’s circumstances aren’t great. Old Jiang isn’t the type to take bribes either—he’s an old bachelor with no savings to speak of, so he can’t help me much in situations like this."
"Losing a sixth-tier card… is still a bit hard for me to swallow."
"That’s why I’m here trying my luck."
"Though, if needed, I could attempt to make more—but no guarantees on success."
"But honestly, I’m more concerned about the price…"
Yun Ting gave a slight nod, the corners of her lips curling. So that’s how it was?
No wonder this broke kid had the nerve to approach her family’s Yun Huang.
Everything made sense now.
She had already pieced together the ‘truth’ in her mind.
Back in the day, Su Qi had been something of a prodigy, but he’d fallen from grace for some reason. Unwilling to accept mediocrity, he’d turned to card crafting.
Given his age, being able to produce sixth-tier cards was impressive enough to earn him recognition as a disciple under the Jiangxia Guardian.
In a way, the value of a card crafter and a card wielder differed by roughly a tier.
For instance, an ordinary sixth-tier card crafter held status comparable to an ordinary seventh-tier card wielder.
The main reasons?
First, a card wielder’s combat system was almost entirely dependent on cards. The output from the Source Realm couldn’t keep up with public demand—unlike cultivators or martial artists, who could still function even if they couldn’t rely on pills or medicinal baths, albeit at a slightly weaker level.
Second, the card wielder system was relatively new. Deep down, people in Great Xia still revered cultivators and martial artists—after all, who didn’t have dreams of immortality?
It was only later, when the card wielder system proved too straightforward and brainless, that Great Xia’s authorities began promoting it heavily.
This, however, made life hell for card crafters. Like how smiles never disappear—they just transfer to someone else’s face.
If the card wielder system was mindless, then card crafters’ hair loss rivaled that of programmers.
With alchemy, success was success, failure was failure—experience led to mastery through repetition.
But if you asked a card crafter how things worked…
"Why did this actually make a card?"
"Why didn’t this make a card?"
"I messed up the process, so why didn’t the card explode?"
"I followed the process, so why did the card explode?"
"Want another one? Dream on—because… heh, even I don’t know how I made this one."
Thankfully, card attributes could be checked, or else there’d be an entire profession of ‘card testers.’
It was even more absurd than scientific research.
So when Yun Ting saw this card, tailored precisely to Yun Huang’s needs, she didn’t suspect Su Qi of ulterior motives for a second.
Put it this way: if he could master directional card crafting?
Either his household registry would be wiped clean.
Or Great Xia’s rulers would personally tear through space to Jiangxia that very day.
Yes, the rulers would make time to see him.
They’d be worried something might happen to Su Qi on the way.
Not that Su Qi’s cards themselves were that important—but the concept of directional crafting was revolutionary.
Like how the first electronic computer was clunky and useless by today’s standards, but the idea of creating something from nothing was priceless.
With that idea, progress in the field could skyrocket.
……
Yun Ting tapped the edge of the card lightly, her tone probing: "So, how much do you think this card is worth?"
"Depends on what you think it’s worth. After all, I don’t have anywhere else to sell it… But at least let me recoup my losses…"
Yun Ting smirked faintly. Such a rookie—already laying all his cards on the table. Unlike those old foxes who’d spend ages gauging each other’s price ranges, hiding their hands and fighting for every scrap of profit.
"I can only give you 350,000."
"Since it’s a consumable, it obviously can’t match the market price of a sixth-tier rare card."
"Besides, let’s be real—this thing just speeds up about six or seven days of normal cultivation progress. If it were a fourth-tier card, sold to low-level martial examinees, the markup would be insane. An extra week could push you ahead of tens of thousands. But alas… it’s sixth-tier."
"Anyone who can afford this is already guaranteed good results. They don’t need those extra days."
"Otherwise, you’d have sold it long ago. You wouldn’t have come to me."
After speaking, she studied Su Qi’s face, noting his conflicted expression. "Tell you what—I’ll do Old Jiang a favor. 400,000."
"Any future cards with similar effects can be sold to me too."
Su Qi was genuinely conflicted this time—his expression wasn’t an act.
He’d never been sure how to value [Radiance] and [Joy], and his card crafting had been done by feel.
Now, with a willpower cost of 100,000 and [3 Radiance] + [300 Joy] selling for 350,000—and the buyer thinking she got a steal—the actual value was likely between 500,000 and 600,000.
Meaning [1 Radiance] + [100 Joy] could be converted to about 150,000 Great Xia coins.
So… did he go overboard with Little Yuan’s card?
A 1.55 million cost for a fourth-tier card?
Last he checked, fourth-tier mythic cards only went for around 1.8 million on the market.
Small workshops really don’t hold back…
Whatever.
She’s my wife anyway—better keep the profits in the family. Next time, I’ll tone it down.
Unaware of Su Qi’s calculations, Yun Ting was convinced she’d scored a massive bargain. Her gaze shifted to Yun Huang, who sat on the sofa absorbing Source energy, her expression indifferent, detached from everything around her.
"Huang’er, get familiar with Su Qi. No training today—go watch that movie first. You can cultivate when you’re back."
Though the nickname sounded affectionate, a closer listen revealed Yun Ting’s commanding tone, leaving no room for refusal.
Yun Huang didn’t look up, responding with only a soft "Mm."
She was suppressing an emotion called joy.
She was afraid.
Afraid that if even a trace of a smile appeared on her face, this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity would slip through her fingers.
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
for mindless slaughter, this isn't for you.] My name is Ye Shu, and I'm a transmigrator. It seems I'm supposed to be the protagonist, but that feels pretty unlikely. This world has been invaded by a system. The antagonists on the other side have suddenly become pure, flawless saints. The female leads have been force-fed the so-called "original plot," making them think they've been reborn. Now, everyone thinks I'm scum. Including the old lady in my ring. And here I am, in the Monster Beast Mountain Range, braising pork. To put my situation in perspective— It's as if, the moment Xiao Yan stepped into the Monster Beast Mountain Range, the Soul Emperor already knew he would become the Flame Emperor, and Yao Lao had been turned to the enemy's side. I have nothing right now. Oh wait, that's not true. I do have a white-haired loli child-bride who's the Heavenly Dao, and her only skill is acting cute. So, tell me guys... what are my chances of making it to the end?
ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"
. As long as he maintains the villain image and follows the plot to the grand finale, he can obtain generous rewards and return to the real world. So Gu Chen'an entered the role and began to act as a scumbag villain, but who would have expected that the female leads could hear his inner thoughts. Miss Su from the Su family was shocked: "I originally thought Gu Chen'an was a scumbag, but I didn't expect he turned out to be a gentleman! What? You said I have to call off the engagement? I definitely won't, I'll piss you off!" Bai Yuan Tian was dumbfounded: "Young Master Gu is usually unreasonable and a complete brat, but he actually calls me little sweetie in his heart? What, Young Master Gu even said he likes me?" As the female leads' images collapsed more and more, the plot also collapsed with it. Gu Chen'an looked at all this chaos. "Ladies, don't aggro me, if you keep this up the male lead really will stab me, I still need to survive to the grand finale!"
