"Fengzhi, are we really just going to sit here and wait for death?!" Gu Rong asked in a deep voice.
What Ning Fengzhi said was true. Spirit Hall's actions had left them feeling suffocated.
Looking at the newspaper in his hand, Ning Fengzhi said helplessly, "Bone Uncle, this newspaper costs one Copper Soul Coin per copy. On top of that, it comes with a set of numbers. A drawing is held every three days, and there's a chance to split fifty thousand Gold Soul Coins."
"Just the prospect of winning would be enough to make most people on the continent buy one every day. And the contents of the newspaper are entirely compiled by Spirit Hall alone. If Spirit Hall slanders us in the paper someday, I'm afraid all those people on the continent who don't know the truth will think our Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect is a den of demons."
"This..."
Gu Rong and Chen Xin fell silent in succession.
This was all an open scheme, and just as Ning Fengzhi had said, no one could stop it.
Suddenly, Gu Rong noticed something. "No, Fengzhi, look. This paper isn't crudely made—it's high-quality paper. Add in transportation and operating costs, and Spirit Hall simply isn't making any money. And look at this so-called Spirit Hall Lottery. They have to put up fifty thousand Gold Soul Coins as prize money every three days. Where are they getting so much money? Are they really just losing money to make a name for themselves?"
He was indeed right. Spirit Hall provided its newspapers to vendors for free. The one Copper Soul Coin earned from every newspaper sold belonged to the vendor.
Ning Fengzhi had not considered that point. He ran his right hand over the newspaper. "The ink used here isn't ordinary