The main entrance has its advantages, and the back door has its merits; one should not favor one over the other.

Su Ji narrowed his eyes. "This is..."

The stall owner wore a smug expression. "Surely, fellow cultivator, you’ve already recognized what this is?"

Su Ji: "..."

He recognized absolutely nothing.

To Su Ji, the man’s words were like saying: Kid, you must’ve already mentally solved this advanced calculus problem, right?

Still, even he could sense the spiritual energy emanating from the bundle of silk threads—pure and restrained, far beyond any ordinary material.

"I see it now."

Su Ji wore a face of sudden enlightenment.

"It’s just a bundle of finely crafted silk, isn’t it? Looks pretty white. Might be good for mending my junior sister’s skirt hem."

The stall owner’s smile froze.

Mending a skirt hem?

You’re using Hundred-Tempered Heavenly Silk to mend a skirt hem?

What a waste of treasure!

"Fellow cultivator, take a closer look!"

The stall owner grew anxious, carefully picking up a single thread and holding it out to Su Ji.

"This is called [Hundred-Tempered Heavenly Silk], harvested from the silk of thousand-year-old Heavenly Mountain Snow Silkworms and tempered in earthfire for a hundred days!"

"See how indestructible it is—impervious to water and fire! If used to craft soft armor, it can withstand a full-force strike from a Golden Core cultivator!"

"If woven into a magical artifact, it can greatly enhance its durability and spiritual energy conductivity!"

The stall owner spoke until his mouth ran dry, practically singing praises for the silk’s entire ancestral lineage.

Su Ji listened, then simply reached out and lightly pinched the thread between his fingers.

Cool and smooth to the touch, its texture was indeed extraordinary.

Good stuff.

"Oh."

Su Ji’s response was flat as water.

"Sounds impressive."

He let go, and the thread drifted back into the wooden box.

"Useless to me. I’m leaving."

Su Ji turned on his heel and bolted.

Once again showcasing his masterful skill of abrupt departures.

"W-Wait! Fellow cultivator, don’t rush off!"

This time, the stall owner was truly desperate. He lunged forward, blocking Su Ji’s path.

Mainly because he was genuinely short on spirit stones lately.

And business had been abysmal.

"Fellow cultivator, the price is negotiable!"

Gritting his teeth, the stall owner held up five fingers.

"Five thousand low-grade spirit stones! This bundle of [Hundred-Tempered Heavenly Silk] is yours!"

Su Ji gave him a look reserved for idiots.

"Five thousand? You might as well rob me."

"I’m an outer disciple, for crying out loud! Where would I get five thousand spirit stones?"

He sidestepped the stall owner and kept walking.

"Fellow cultivator, you misunderstand!"

The stall owner trailed after Su Ji, yammering nonstop.

He even abandoned his stall in the process.

"This treasure is beyond ordinary recognition! It’s only because I sense a connection with you that I’m willing to part with it!"

Su Ji suddenly stopped and turned.

"Fine. I’ll give you five low-grade spirit stones. Take it or leave it."

"F-Five?!"

The stall owner nearly choked on his own breath, almost fainting on the spot.

Are you haggling or picking a fight?

Su Ji looked utterly serious. "That’s all it’s worth to me. Not a stone more."

The stall owner’s beard quivered with rage.

He scurried back to his stall, grabbed the rusty dagger Su Ji had handled earlier, then rushed back and—without a word—stabbed it straight into the Heavenly Silk in the box!

Clang!

A metallic ring echoed through the air.

The dagger’s tip snapped clean off.

Yet the snow-white bundle of silk remained untouched, not a single thread frayed, lying peacefully in the box as if nothing had happened.

A few passing disciples turned at the noise, curiosity piqued.

The stall owner brandished the broken dagger, face twisted between pain over his loss and smug satisfaction at proving his point.

"Fellow cultivator, convinced now?"

A glint flashed in Su Ji’s eyes.

Just as he thought—the Love-Longing Sect’s market was full of hidden gems.

But his expression only grew more disdainful.

"Convinced."

"That dagger of yours is clearly some rusted scrap you dug up last week."

The stall owner: "..."

Talking to this kid was going to shave ten years off his lifespan.

"I meant the silk!"

"Noted."

Su Ji nodded, finally dropping the act. Instead, he sighed, feigning frustration.

"Even if this thing is as good as you say, I wouldn’t know what to do with it."

This sudden "moment of honesty" threw the stall owner completely off-script.

His well-prepared sales pitch lodged in his throat.

He scrutinized Su Ji, but the young man didn’t seem to be lying.

An internal war raged in the stall owner’s mind.

The [Hundred-Tempered Heavenly Silk] was undoubtedly a treasure.

But precisely because it was too good, no one recognized its value—nor could anyone afford it.

He’d had it on display for half a year. Plenty of inquiries, zero serious buyers.

Eventually, he’d stashed it away to avoid unwanted attention.

Ahem!

He cleared his throat, forcing a smile uglier than a grimace.

"Fellow cultivator, let’s talk this over."

"I’ve held onto this for half a year. You seem genuinely interested, and I’m genuinely willing to sell."

"How about this—three thousand five hundred low-grade spirit stones! Not a single stone less!"

"That’s my absolute bottom line!"

Su Ji hesitated. "Let me go ask a friend first."

"Stay right here. Don’t move."

The stall owner stood frozen, watching Su Ji vanish into the crowd without a backward glance. It took him a second to process what had just happened.

Why did that sound so… off?

The stall owner was no fool. Years in the market had taught him to read people.

He instantly saw through the ploy.

This brat was playing the waiting game—testing his patience, waiting for him to crack so he could swoop back in with a brutal counteroffer!

Damn it!

Another broke bastard!

The stall owner stomped his foot in frustration.

---

Su Ji didn’t return to his ramshackle hut after leaving the market.

Instead, he navigated the familiar path to the inner disciples’ residential area.

Upon reaching Su Jiu’s elegant courtyard, he scanned his surroundings, ensuring no one was watching, then agilely scaled the wall and dropped soundlessly into the backyard.

His feet had barely touched the ground when—

Creak.

The wooden door leading from the backyard to the house swung open.

Su Jiu stood in the doorway, her fluffy fox ears twitching slightly, her face a picture of exasperation.

"Senior Brother, why must you always sneak in through the back when there’s a perfectly good front door?"

Su Ji dusted off his hands, utterly unrepentant.

"The front door has its merits, the back door has its charms. Can’t play favorites."

Su Jiu: ?

Her wide, innocent eyes brimmed with confusion.

Seeing her baffled expression, Su Ji realized this line of reasoning was still beyond her.

Well, not entirely beyond.

He cleared his throat and adopted a solemn tone.

"It’s just bad timing lately. Gotta avoid gossip."

"If I waltzed in through the front, someone might see and start rumors. Then we’d have a mess to clean up."

Su Jiu rolled her eyes.

"And sneaking in through the backyard makes it less suspicious if someone sees you?"

Su Ji grinned and leaned in. "That’s why I made sure no one was around before climbing over."

"Ridiculous!"

She spat lightly in disdain and turned to walk back into the house, no longer paying attention to the nonsense-spouting fool.

But Su Jiu didn’t close the door.

Seeing this, Su Ji immediately shamelessly followed her inside.