He licked his somewhat chapped lips, his voice seductive:
"That place, occasionally... truly only occasionally, has scraps of Martial Arts manuals circulating out of it!
Maybe some descendant of a fallen family stole them out to sell, or maybe... hehe, they were lifted off some unlucky bastard.
No one can guarantee whether they're truly a Qi Gathering Method. They might just be worthless fakes,
or Evil Cultivation Techniques that'll get you killed... it all depends on your eye and your luck! Of course—"
He drew out the last word, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. "The prices are absolutely ghostly!"
He made an astonishing gesture. "And you need the guts to go. Black-on-black robbery is as commonplace there as eating and drinking."
After saying that, he stared fixedly at Fang Yuan, expecting to see shock, longing, or hesitation on his face.
Yet after hearing him out, that trace of "interest" on Fang Yuan's face swiftly faded, replaced by an almost indifferent calm.
He gently shook his head, his tone even carrying a hint of self-mockery:
"Shopkeeper Wang, you jest. A Ghost Market? It sounds terrifying. I'm just a poor hunter scraping out a living in the mountains.
I only happened to catch a few animals and traded them for enough food to get by. That silver from earlier might have looked like a lot, but it's only barely enough for the family's emergencies.
At the price you mentioned, even selling me wouldn't scrape together a fraction of it. A place where immortals battle—that isn't somewhere I belong."
There was not the slightest disappointment in Wang Laowu's eyes. For a man who had spent his life mingling in the streets and markets, thick skin and the patience to cast a long line were never in short supply.
Wang Laowu hurriedly forced