Yes, fellow practitioner, fellow practitioner, yes.

Watching Su Ji disappear over the wall, Su Jiu finally strolled back into the room at a leisurely pace.

She cast a glance at the torn plan on the table—ripped clean in two.

By the flickering candlelight, the jagged tear in the paper looked especially glaring.

Su Jiu reached out, trying to piece the two halves back together.

But no matter how she looked at it, it just didn’t sit right.

Besides, continuing to write on it would be a hassle.

In the end, she sighed helplessly, crumpling the paper into a ball.

A moment of impulse.

The fox involved deeply regretted it.

Eventually, Su Jiu smoothed out a fresh sheet of paper and ground her ink with care.

Sigh.

The words “repay kindness” sure bring trouble to a fox.

……

Meanwhile, on the other side of the story.

The next morning, a piece of news spread like wildfire, flying swiftly to every corner outside the Love-Longing Sect’s Outer Gate.

The tall, lanky steward of the Contribution Hall was dead.

Reportedly, his death was gruesome—a blood hole right between his brows, dead on the spot.

As soon as the news broke, the entire Outer Gate was thrown into an uproar.

“Did you hear? Steward Ma from the Contribution Hall is dead too!”

“Another one’s dead!”

“First the Personnel Hall, now the Contribution Hall. Who’s next?”

“How did it happen?”

For a while, rumors and whispers buzzed everywhere. Outer disciples huddled together, exchanging gossip, shock written all over their faces.

As for the man at the center of it all—Su Ji?

Pfft. It’s not like he killed anyone.

None of his business.

At this moment, he was already strolling leisurely along the mountain path toward the marketplace.

The Love-Longing Sect’s marketplace was set between the resting areas for the miscellaneous disciples and the Outer Gate disciples.

It was a wide open space paved with blue stone slabs.

A chaotic mix of people gathered here—not only disciples of the Love-Longing Sect, but also wandering cultivators from nearby minor clans, and even some bold mortal merchants hoping to try their luck.

Of course, everyone had to hand over a share of their earnings to the Love-Longing Sect.

Su Ji was now a wealthy young master with over three hundred lower-grade spirit stones.

He was brimming with confidence.

He lazily wandered between the various stalls, hoping to stumble upon a bargain.

Unfortunately, after a long stroll, all he saw were low-quality trinkets.

Poorly made talismans, herbs lacking in potency, and a few so-called “ancient artifacts” that were rusted and dim with faint spiritual energy.

Su Ji felt they didn’t seem ancient at all—more like last week’s leftovers.

Well, that made sense.

Cultivators weren’t fools; there was no way they’d always wait around for him to pick up cheap goods.

Seeing no gains, Su Ji felt bored and was about to head home.

Just then, a familiar figure caught his eye.

It was the vendor who had sold him the Instant Light Stone.

The man was carrying a burlap sack bigger than himself on his back.

He looked around furtively, then moved to a secluded corner where no one paid attention.

With effort, he unloaded the sack.

Untying the knots, he spread the sturdy burlap on the ground to serve as his stall.

Then, a heap of miscellaneous items collapsed in a small mountain.

Clatter—

Su Ji’s footsteps froze.

His heart skipped a beat.

Instant Light Stone!

And a big chunk of it at that.

Without showing a hint of emotion, Su Ji walked over and crouched in front of the stall.

He casually rummaged through the pile and pulled out a rusty short dagger.

The dagger was pitted and uneven, its dark red rust covering nearly the entire blade.

Only a few edges still revealed the cold iron beneath the corrosion.

He weighed it in his hand, then looked over at the stall owner.

“What’s the story with this?”

The moment the stall owner spotted a potential customer, the dull haze in his eyes suddenly brightened.

He slapped his thigh, leaned in close, and lowered his voice, speaking in a conspiratorial tone.

“Fellow Daoist, you really have sharp eyes!”

“This dagger isn’t some ordinary trinket! I managed to haul it out from an ancient cultivator’s secret cave after a lot of effort!”

“Feel it—there’s still lingering malevolent energy on it. Back in the day, it must have drunk the blood of a great demon!”

The stall owner babbled on excitedly, painting wild pictures as if this battered dagger would transform into a soaring dragon any second now.

Su Ji listened expressionlessly, cursing silently in his heart.

Drank the blood of a great demon?

He could barely stab someone with it, let alone slay a beast.

“Enough, enough. Cut the crap.”

Su Ji interrupted impatiently.

“Just tell me the price in spirit stones.”

The stall owner was momentarily taken aback, then cleared his throat twice and held up two fingers.

“Looks like you’re a straightforward person, so I won’t ask for much—twenty low-grade spirit stones, take it or leave it!”

Su Ji didn’t even bother to haggle.

He tossed the dagger onto the ground.

*Clang.*

A sharp metallic sound rang out.

Su Ji stood up, brushed the dust from his hands, and turned to leave.

His movements were smooth and fluid, with not a hint of hesitation.

The stall owner was left frozen in place.

He’s just leaving?

No counteroffer?

Even if you said two spirit stones, we could have talked!

Watching Su Ji’s retreating figure, he sighed helplessly and muttered to himself.

“Nowadays, genuine stuff’s hard to sell…”

“People aren’t fools. Anything worth a damn gets tightly guarded and handed over to their sects for contribution points. How would it ever end up in a market like this…”

He was muttering when his eyes caught Su Ji’s figure again, and something about the way he walked, his posture—

Suddenly, the stall owner’s eyes lit up as a realization struck.

He hurriedly called out.

“Fellow Daoist, wait—”

“What now?”

Su Ji cut off his spell without turning back.

That sudden sharp tone caught the stall owner’s prepared words in his throat.

He scratched his head and cautiously asked,

“Fellow Daoist, last time… didn’t you buy a piece of Instant Light Stone from me? And asked me to help turn it into a spear?”

“I think… I remember.”

Su Ji finally stopped and turned around. “That was me. What about it?”

A few traces of joy appeared on the stall owner’s face.

“Then… do you want it back?”

Su Ji’s expression twisted in confusion.

“Why would I want that thing again?”

“That broken spear? I took it into battle, and someone snapped it with one hand. Nearly got me killed.”

The stall owner almost spat out a mouthful of old blood in frustration.

“I told you, that thing’s not meant for fighting enemies! Don’t blame me for that.”

“Want to look at anything else?”

“We’re practically acquaintances now. Pick something, and I’ll give you a discount.”

Su Ji was already turning to leave again. “Your pile of junk doesn’t have anything good.”

Hearing this, the stall owner immediately bristled. “I do have good stuff, fellow Daoist, I do.”

“The main reason is that most people can’t afford the price, and I’m too lazy to set up a stall.”

The vendor said this as he carefully fumbled inside his bosom.

After a moment, he pulled out an old wooden box about the size of a palm.

Holding the box gently in his hands, he leaned in mysteriously toward Su Ji and slowly opened it.

Inside lay a bundle of snow-white silk threads, delicate as wisps of smoke, yet under the sunlight they refracted a faint, precious glow. A subtle, almost imperceptible aura of pure spiritual energy radiated from them.

Su Ji’s eyes immediately widened in astonishment.