How to always take the back door

"However... this old man's resources are limited..."

"Fellow Daoist, would you consider a trade...?"

After hearing this, Su Ji finally understood completely.

So that's how it was.

Looking at the stall owner's nervous expression, as if afraid he might back out, Su Ji was inwardly overjoyed.

This was like a pie falling from the sky—right into his mouth.

He cleared his throat, pretending to be reluctant.

"Fine then."

"Let's hear it."

The stall owner took a deep breath, as if making a monumental decision.

He solemnly bent down, rummaged beneath his stall for a long while, and finally carefully retrieved a long, cloth-wrapped object.

The fabric was old, even threadbare in places, yet meticulously wrapped.

Under Su Ji's curious gaze, the stall owner slowly unwrapped the layers of coarse cloth.

A sheathed sword lay quietly in his palm.

The scabbard was made of some unknown dark wood, covered in the scars of time, while the hilt's leather wrapping had cracked. The entire sword exuded a plain, weathered simplicity.

"Fellow Daoist, this was my trusted companion for a hundred years of gallant adventures—it has drunk the blood of a great demon!"

Su Ji: ???

Bro, what did that great demon ever do to you?

It's drinking again?

This familiar line...

Seeing the odd expression on Su Ji's face, the stall owner's composure instantly cracked.

He hurriedly explained, "Fellow Daoist, this sword truly drank the blood of a great demon! It’s nothing like that ordinary iron from before!"

To prove his words, he drew the sword halfway with a sharp shing!

A cold gleam flashed through the market, and a stream of light rippled along the blade. A sharp, icy aura swept over them, making Su Ji's skin prickle slightly.

It really was a fine sword.

Only when Su Ji's expression turned serious did the stall owner relax slightly. He continued, "Based on its original cost, this sword is worth at least seven thousand high-grade spirit stones!"

"And that’s just the cost!"

A pained expression flickered across his face, but he gritted his teeth and solemnly pushed the sword toward Su Ji.

"Now, I’m willing to mortgage it for four thousand six hundred and twenty-six high-grade spirit stones."

With that, he reached into his robe and pulled out a ring hanging from his neck.

His fingers brushed over it, and two bags of spirit stones—one large, one small—appeared in his hands.

"Here are three hundred and seventy high-grade spirit stones, and... four hundred sixty-five and a half low-grade spirit stones."

"Fellow Daoist... please count them."

Su Ji glanced at the sword, then at the two bags.

He opened the one with low-grade spirit stones and casually stirred them, spotting the half-piece.

It looked like it had been snapped in two.

Just from the numbers, Su Ji didn’t even need to count to know the old man had likely emptied his entire savings.

Inwardly delighted, Su Ji maintained an inscrutable, indifferent expression.

He didn’t reach for the sword or the spirit stones, merely giving them a dismissive glance.

Finally, just as the stall owner felt like he might suffocate from tension, Su Ji lazily extended a hand and pushed the withered remnant of the Blue Ice Grass toward him.

"Very well."

"Given your sincerity, I’ll accept this deal."

Su Ji paused, tucking the two bags of spirit stones into his robe.

The stall owner bowed deeply. "Thank you for your generosity!"

"This kindness—I will never forget it!"

He carefully cradled the Blue Ice Grass remnant like a priceless treasure.

But before he could rejoice—

"However..."

The stall owner’s heart plummeted, his joy freezing in place.

What did this mean?

Was there... another condition?

"Fellow Daoist... this..."

Su Ji waved a hand, his expression calm.

"But I’m not a sword cultivator. If I take this weapon, the only thing I can do is sell it for spirit stones."

"A gentleman does not take what another treasures."

"Here’s what we’ll do. Someday in the future, if you gather five thousand high-grade spirit stones, you can buy it back from me."

The stall owner stiffened completely.

He stared blankly at Su Ji.

A gentleman... does not take what another treasures?

In this ruthless world of cultivation, where lives were as cheap as grass and people would draw blades over a dozen spirit stones—he was hearing such words?

A surge of warmth nearly brought tears to his eyes.

Having lived for centuries, weathered countless storms, the stall owner now found himself struggling to maintain composure.

Such a benevolent soul truly existed in this world!

What kind of noble character could speak like this?

This was true magnanimity!

With a thud, the stall owner dropped to his knees.

"Fellow Daoist, your righteousness is unmatched! This old man... has no way to repay you!"

He fumbled in his robe and pulled out a small, crystal-clear cup, exquisitely carved like translucent crystal.

"Fellow Daoist, this is my token."

He presented it with both hands.

"Normally, I cannot sense its presence. But if you shatter it, I will appear within three days."

"With my current Golden Core cultivation, I swear I’ll gather five thousand high-grade spirit stones within five years and deliver them to you."

"You need only break it after five years."

Su Ji took the cup—it was cool to the touch.

"Agreed."

Then, as if remembering something, he added, "What if, instead of spirit stones, I break it early and ask you to kill someone for me?"

The stall owner didn’t hesitate. "Through fire and flood, I will not refuse!"

Su Ji pressed further, "What if I told you to kill the Love-Longing Sect’s leader?"

The stall owner hesitated for a few seconds before lowering his voice.

"Done!"

"Then swear it on your Dao Heart."

Without hesitation, the stall owner made the oath.

Only then did Su Ji feel at ease.

"Wait, one more thing..."

"Do you have any connections?"

"This amount of [Hundred Refinements Heavenly Silk] is too little to craft an inner armor..."

The stall owner smiled bitterly. "Of course. If there were enough, it wouldn’t be priced so low. My old flame happens to be quite skilled in artifact forging..."

Su Ji handed him a folded note. "My forging requirements are all written here—no need for you to read them. Just pass it to the artisan. Once it’s done, have her pack it in a box. It’s a gift."

The stall owner understood—this man had come prepared...

---

Less than half an hour later.

Su Jiu sensed Su Ji’s aura again.

First, a sword was tossed into the backyard.

Then two bags of spirit stones landed one after another.

Finally, Su Ji himself vaulted over the wall.

Su Jiu snorted and cracked open the back door just enough to let him slip in.

But...

Weren’t you the one who said front and back doors each have their merits, and we shouldn’t favor one over the other?

Then why do you always use my back door?

And wasn’t the mission to trade for [Hundred Refinements Heavenly Silk]?

What’s with bringing back a sword and two bags of spirit stones?