Rich Second-Gen, Day Twenty-Two

Andra was a slave trader. Through the introduction of a senior merchant, he had landed a major deal.

They collected their goods in Spirit City: a group of slaves sold off by Spirit Hall. They looked bedraggled and listless. The young ones all appeared seriously injured, and there were many elderly people and children among them. These goods were shoved onto carts and carried toward their miserable fate.

Andra sat in the carriage with the senior merchant and could not help asking, "Brother Barton, where are we going to sell them?"

Barton, the senior merchant he addressed, clearly had everything under control. "The lord who sold us this batch instructed us to take them far away. We'll go to Calais City. There's no Spirit Hall there, so no one will find out."

Andra's face lit up. Calais City had become famously prosperous these past few years. They would definitely make a fortune. Thinking this, he poured Barton a cup of tea and began flattering him—how they owed this opportunity to him, how he was their guiding light, how he was a capable right-hand man of the great people of Spirit Hall. Sweet words flowed from him as if they cost nothing, flattering Barton until his face glowed red.

"I know what you're after, kid. Spirit Hall business isn't easy to get into. Go gain experience for another two years first," Barton said smugly.

Andra's eyes shifted. He could tell that Barton's guard was no longer as tight as before. He took out fine wine and food from his Storage Spirit Tool, never mentioning business again, and simply kept urging Barton to drink and eat. Before long, Barton was drunk.

"Brother Barton, my old man back home is still sick. If you ever find a way to get rich, please don't forget your little brother here," Andra deliberately prompted.

Drunk, Barton naturally took the bait. "Little brother, let me tell you, jobs like this need connections to keep hold of them. Hahaha, just like me."

"I spent a fortune to get in with a Spirit Hall steward. Someone in his family is a bishop, the kind who often meets the Pope."

Barton happily began humming an off-key tune.

Andra endured Barton's terrible humming and continued guiding him. "Oh, that steward must be quite formidable. What a towering tree to rely on."

Barton snorted. "What formidable? He's nothing but a dog living off the bishop's power. Greedy for everything. I had to give him two shops in Spirit City and countless gold coins before I could fill his belly." The thought made Barton furious, and he could not help cursing a few times.

Andra clicked his tongue. Barton truly was lavish with his money. "But the more you give, the more you get back, right?"

Barton narrowed his drunken eyes and sighed. "Who knows? You make money today, but who knows if you'll still be alive to spend it tomorrow?" He leaned close to Andra and whispered, "Brother, you must never repeat what I'm about to tell you."

Ignoring the stink of alcohol, Andra leaned closer. Barton mumbled softly, "Do you know where these people came from? That person used the theft and the disappearance of the Holy Son as an excuse to make trouble. This whole lot are unlucky people who got swept up in it. Any Soul Masters had their Martial Souls destroyed, then they were sold together with their families. And these are people who had little to do with either matter, people that person simply disliked." When he mentioned that person, Barton pointed at the sun in the sky.

Cold sweat instantly covered Andra's body. "Then those important people who were somewhat involved..."

Before he could finish, Barton whispered, "Gone. All gone. Even their houses have new residents. That place never lacks people." His voice grew quieter and quieter. "Go to Calais City. There's no Spirit Hall there. It doesn't matter how these people live. They're healthy, so they might live a little better. At least they won't be an eyesore to anyone..."

Barton seemed to have more to say, but he fell asleep before he could finish. Andra shuddered.

People with little connection to the matter, people someone simply disliked, had their Martial Souls destroyed and were sold off. Those words circled in his mind for a long time.

The carriage rumbled onward, traveling day and night toward Calais City.

Vacation days truly passed in the blink of an eye. Before they knew it, the first day was over, and they were going out shopping together.

The night before, the girls had gathered to discuss what they would wear and what accessories they would put on. The next morning, they rose early to dress up. When Tang San returned after cultivating the Purple Demon Eye, he saw the girls' dormitory brightly lit and could not help smiling. So these little ladies were capable of getting up early after all.

The boys were also right on time today. Each of them came out dressed like a peacock. Even Tang San, who usually paid little attention to clothing, had changed into something brightly colored, making Ming Sui look at him a few extra times. She felt her cousin had gained a few more points of charm than usual.

Their first stop was naturally to buy clothes. While they had been in the Star Dou Great Forest, several new clothing shops had opened in Calais City's commercial district. Their styles were novel and beautiful, quickly winning over the hearts of the people across the continent.

The great fashion designer Ming Zhen hid his achievements and fame deep away. I'm not a designer. I'm merely a transporter of designs.

There were all kinds of Ruqun, Large-sleeved shirts, long padded jackets, Beizi, and Round-collared robes, in rouge red, bamboo green, luminous yellow, and the clear blue of a sky after rain—too many to list.

Ming Sui looked at the clothes, then at the hairstyling shop farther inside, and once again felt reverence for her biological father. Is this what a professional money-making big shot is like? Then she eagerly rushed toward her happy place with her friends.

Tang San looked at the familiar yet unfamiliar clothes, his mind a blur.

Sui Sui had said that, in order to develop Calais City, her uncle had specifically sent people from the City Lord's Mansion to open shops. These clothing stores belonged to the City Lord's Mansion, and her uncle had even drawn many clothing designs.

His uncle's shop. The clothing designs from his uncle. Clothes he had worn in his previous life were among them.

No one else on the continent celebrated the New Year. Only his family did. His father had said that his aunt and uncle were the ones who had brought them into the tradition.

Many of the weapons Sui Sui practiced with had never been seen by anyone on the continent.

The food from the City Lord's Mansion also bore traces of his previous life.

A bold guess surfaced in Tang San's mind. Could his uncle have come from the same place as him? Even if they had arrived at different times, judging by the clothing styles, many of them were unfamiliar to him. Were these clothes from an era before his, or from an era after his?

Did his aunt know? Did Sui Sui know too?

Tang San's thoughts were a complete mess.

Meanwhile, Dai Mubai, Oscar, and Ma Hongjun had already begun trying on clothes. They even picked out a Tili for Tang San.

Shrek was not a school that focused only on cultivating Soul Power. Their requirements for Soul Masters' physical fitness were also very high. Oscar, a Food System Soul Master, was the clearest example. Though he could not fight, he had broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and six-pack abs. Wearing a Yesa, he looked like a mighty, imposing man. Not to mention Dai Mubai and Ma Hongjun.

Distracted, Tang San changed into the familiar Tili. Looking at himself in the fitting mirror, he looked like himself, yet not like himself.

"You know, Xiao San looks different from us in that outfit." Dai Mubai's head suddenly popped out from behind him with a swish, yanking Tang San's soul straight back to Douluo Continent.

"That's right, it suits him especially well. My taste is really good." Oscar's head appeared from the other side as well.

Ma Hongjun could only poke his head out beneath Oscar's. He did not go to Dai Mubai's side because Dai Mubai was too muscular.

Tang San looked at his companions tilting their heads at him in the mirror and could not help laughing.

"Dai Laoda, your pecs are huge! Hahahahaha!" Ma Hongjun burst out laughing.

A blush spread across Dai Mubai's face, making Oscar and Tang San, who had not found it funny at first, start laughing too.

"Hahahahahaha..."

The girls had chosen suitable clothes and were getting their hair done. Hearing the boys' laughter, Ming Sui listened carefully and said with certainty, "They must be laughing at Dai Laoda."

Xiao Wu twitched her ears and glanced at Zhu Zhuqing. "Little Ma is saying Dai Laoda's pecs are huge."

Ning Rongrong also glanced at Zhu Zhuqing. "Oh my, just how big do they have to be to make them laugh like that? No, no, I want to see too."

Even Zhu Zhuqing's ears turned red.

"We're almost done. We should call them over to carry our things, right?" Ming Sui blinked. Even though they had Storage Spirit Tools, shopping without carrying bags was the same as not buying anything.

The girls nodded.

Before long, the boys came out carrying the clothes they had bought and met up with them.

Ning Rongrong cleared her throat and exchanged glances with Ming Sui and Xiao Wu. The other two understood immediately. Three pairs of eyes fixed directly on Dai Mubai, and he felt waves of stabbing pain in his chest.

Ming Sui's eyes said, Dai Laoda's pecs really are impressive. Little Ma weighs about the same as him, but he is nowhere near as spectacular.

Xiao Wu wholeheartedly agreed. Her eyes told Ming Sui, your cousin isn't bad either. His left arm looks sturdy enough to hang a swing from. Blacksmithing really is useful.

Ning Rongrong and Ming Sui's gazes swiftly stabbed toward Tang San's left arm again. Tang San felt as though his left arm was not wearing any clothes.

After looking over her cousin's left arm, Ming Sui's gaze swept across Oscar's waist. She gasped and hurriedly signaled Xiao Wu and Ning Rongrong to look. Oscar touched his waist, his fair, slender fingers sliding over the waist wrapped in black Active Wear. Ning Rongrong got so excited that she slapped Zhu Zhuqing's thigh beside her, startling Zhu Zhuqing, who had been looking at Dai Mubai.

Only Ma Hongjun was completely at ease. In a carefree manner, he asked the girls how many things they had bought. One moment he looked at Xiao Wu's jewelry, the next he compared heights with Ning Rongrong, and then he remembered that he needed to buy toys for Nian Nian.

Everyone cleared their throats and turned back into innocent little girls who knew nothing of the world.

Ming Sui had been looking around just now, and the Buzhi in her hair had come a little loose. For some reason, Tang San walked over and adjusted it for her. After examining it, he felt the position was not quite right, so he removed it and inserted it elsewhere.

Ming Sui froze. The makeup artist beside her, who was arranging Ning Rongrong's loose strands of hair, could not help praising him. "My lord, that Buzhi is placed perfectly. It seems my eye is inferior to yours."

Tang San nodded to the makeup artist and stepped back. "Take a look. Isn't this spot prettier?" His tone was perfectly natural.

Ming Sui looked in the mirror as instructed. Sure enough, the Buzhi was more comfortable in this position. She discarded that trace of awkwardness and looked in the mirror a little longer. Then she suddenly noticed a section of Tang San's waist reflected at the edge of the mirror. He was still standing behind her.

Ming Sui glanced at that waist again and again. My cousin's waist is pretty nice too. It doesn't lose to Oscar's.