The Ghost Market did not sell ghosts. It sold the ghosts in people's hearts.
There was no sunlight here, only the year-round stench of coal smoke and cheap rouge. The narrow alleys were crammed with businesses that could not bear the light of day: stolen goods, contraband salt, and that kind of medicine.
A line of constables clad in black swept into this festering flesh like a sharp blade.
Leading them was not the renowned Wang Meng, but a pale young scholar who coughed every now and then. He walked slowly, his steps unsteady, as if he might collapse at any moment. Yet Wang Meng followed half a step behind him like a guard, one hand on his saber hilt and his gaze alert.
"Who's that? Why is Wang Tiger acting like a grandson?"
"Shh! He's the new one... I heard there's something strange about him."
The vendors on both sides whispered among themselves, their eyes filled with scrutiny and malice.
Ji Ye did not even glance sideways.
Through his [Martial Dao Heavenly Eye], this was no alleyway, but an enormous, intricate web of information.
The old woman selling secondhand clothes on the left had a pair of poisoned scissors hidden in her sleeve. Her muscles were taut, ready to erupt at any time. The old man squatting on the right and smoking a dry pipe breathed long and steadily; he was a trained fighter, but his lung meridian was injured. With every puff, his lungs spasmed faintly.
No secret could remain hidden.
The group stopped before a pharmacy called "Jishi Hall."
This was the Black Tiger Gang's greatest money pit in the Ghost Market. It was called a pharmacy, but in truth it was a den of poison and a place to fence stolen goods.
"Seal it."
Standing at the entrance, Ji Ye spoke softly, but his voice carried an unquestionable chill.
Two constables stepped forward with sealing strips in hand.
"Let's see who dares!"
A furious roar exploded like thunder.
A man built like an iron tower strode out of the pharmacy. Bare-chested, his muscles knotted like coiled dragons, with a descending tiger tattooed on his shaved head, he carried two thick-backed Ghost Head Sabers.
He was Iron Pagoda, the Black Tiger Gang's Red Stick—the man Ji Ye had crippled with a single shoulder strike in his previous life.
In this life, he was still whole and well, brimming with vigor and at the height of his strength.
"Wang Tiger, has water gotten into your brain?" Iron Pagoda slammed his Ghost Head Saber into the ground, making the bluestone slabs hum. "You dare seal up a Black Tiger Gang shop? Believe it or not, I'll chop off that crippled leg of yours and stew it for soup?"
Wang Meng's expression darkened, and his Wild Goose Feather Saber was about to leave its sheath.
A pale hand pressed down on his saber hilt.
"Don't lose your temper."
Ji Ye coughed twice, drew a spotless white handkerchief from his robes, and covered his mouth.
Then he walked forward and stopped before Iron Pagoda.
The difference in their builds was enormous. Iron Pagoda stood a full two meters tall, like a wall; Ji Ye was thin and frail, as though a single breath from Iron Pagoda could blow him away.
"You want to seal the shop?" Iron Pagoda looked down at Ji Ye, his eyes brimming with mockery. "Where did this Sour Scholar come from? Have you even been weaned?"
"There's something wrong with the medicine in this shop."
Ji Ye put away his handkerchief and pointed at the brocade box displayed in the most prominent spot on the counter. "I heard that's a newly arrived Crimson Blood Ginseng? That is beast medicine the Barbarians use to feed wolves. If a person eats it, their qi and blood will run wild, and they'll die. For the safety of the people, the authorities must confiscate it for inspection."
"Bullshit!"
Iron Pagoda flew into a rage. This Crimson Blood Ginseng was a treasure their gang leader had purchased from the Western Regions at an exorbitant price. How had it become beast medicine?
"I think you're looking for trouble!"
Iron Pagoda could not be bothered to waste words. His palm, large as a fan, reached directly for Ji Ye's throat. "Kneel for me!"
This grab was powerful and heavy.
If an ordinary person were caught, their cervical spine would snap on the spot.
Wang Meng was horrified, but it was already too late to intervene.
Yet in Ji Ye's eyes, that grab... was full of openings.
Iron Pagoda's center of gravity leaned too far forward. The sequence of force through his muscles ran from his waist to his shoulder and then to his hand, but at the instant he exerted force, his right ankle tilted slightly outward to support his body.
And though his wrist was sturdy, the Shenmen Acupoint was completely undefended.
Ji Ye did not dodge.
He merely lifted a hand slightly. At some point, he had acquired a writing brush from the counter.
Just as that huge hand was about to touch his throat—
The writing brush in Ji Ye's hand tapped lightly.
"Smack."
The brush tip struck Iron Pagoda's Shenmen Acupoint on the inside of his wrist with perfect accuracy.
There was no brute force, only a penetrating burst of power.
Iron Pagoda felt as though his wrist had been electrocuted. Half his arm went numb and weak in an instant, and that huge hand froze in midair, unable to close no matter what he did.
Ji Ye then took half a step forward.
It looked like a casual step, yet it landed precisely against Iron Pagoda's outward-tilted ankle.
"Fall."
Ji Ye softly uttered a single word.
He gently pressed his shoulder against Iron Pagoda's chest.
Four ounces deflected a thousand pounds.
Iron Pagoda's forward momentum was redirected by that shoulder press, and his foot was caught beneath him. His center of gravity instantly collapsed. That enormous body of over two hundred pounds toppled forward like a collapsing mountain.
"Bang—!!!"
A tremendous crash rang out.
Iron Pagoda hit the ground heavily, face-first, even smashing the pharmacy's threshold apart.
The entire scene fell silent.
The vendors, the constables, even Wang Meng—all stared dumbfounded.
What had just happened?
That sickly scholar had merely poked him with a writing brush, then leaned against him, and Iron Pagoda—who could uproot weeping willows—had... fallen flat on his face?
"Fighting and killing are beneath a gentleman."
Ji Ye stepped back and dusted off nonexistent dirt from his sleeve.
"The authorities do not practice kneeling rites. Get up and speak."
Iron Pagoda was seeing stars, blood streaming from his nose. He struggled to rise, only to discover that his arm was still too numb to lift.
"Demonic arts... You know demonic arts!" Iron Pagoda roared in terror.
"It's medicine."
Ji Ye said blandly, "Your liver fire is too strong, and your qi and blood are surging upward, making your lower body unstable. I was merely helping you vent that fire."
With that, he ignored Iron Pagoda on the ground and walked straight to the counter, reaching for the brocade box.
"Wait."
A cold voice sounded from the back hall.
The curtain was lifted, and a middle-aged man in a black silk long robe emerged. Buddhist beads hung around his neck, iron walnuts turned in his hand, and his gaze was as sharp as a hawk's.
The Black Tiger Gang's leader, Zhao Hei Hu.
A Peak Skin Tempering Realm expert.
He looked at Ji Ye without a trace of contempt, only deep wariness.
Outsiders watched the spectacle; insiders saw the method. This scholar's understanding of the human body had reached a terrifying degree.
"This gentleman..." Zhao Hei Hu said with a smile that did not reach his eyes. "My Crimson Blood Ginseng is legitimate merchandise, complete with customs documents. You say it should be seized, and it is seized? Aren't you giving the Black Tiger Gang too little face?"
As his words fell, dozens of Black Tiger Gang members wielding weapons poured out from all around, sealing off the pharmacy so tightly that not even water could pass through.
The atmosphere was taut, like drawn swords and bent bows.
Wang Meng drew his saber and stood in front of Ji Ye. "Zhao Hei Hu, are you trying to rebel?"
"I wouldn't dare rebel, but protecting myself is only natural." Zhao Hei Hu snorted coldly. His qi and blood churned, and the faint sound of a tiger's roar could be heard from his body.
Ji Ye patted Wang Meng on the shoulder, signaling for him to step back.
He turned and looked directly into Zhao Hei Hu's eyes.
"Face?"
Ji Ye smiled and used the writing brush to draw a circle in the air.
"Gang Leader Zhao, you got this Crimson Blood Ginseng from the White Wolf Tribe, didn't you?"
Zhao Hei Hu's expression changed slightly.
"This ginseng truly is highly nourishing." Ji Ye lowered his voice, his tone becoming deep and eerie. "But if I'm not mistaken, it was cultivated with the blood of dead people. And... dead people afflicted with Corpse Plague."
"Nonsense!" Zhao Hei Hu barked.
"Whether it's nonsense, Gang Leader Zhao knows in his own heart."
Ji Ye stepped forward, leaned close to Zhao Hei Hu's ear, and spoke in a voice only the two of them could hear.
"Recently, have you felt a faint pain in your Tanzhong Acupoint every midnight? When you practice, does your qi and blood get stuck as soon as it reaches the Tiantu Acupoint?"
Zhao Hei Hu shuddered from head to toe, and the iron walnuts in his hand nearly fell.
This was precisely the bottleneck he had encountered recently! It was also why he had been so eager to use Crimson Blood Ginseng to break through! How did this scholar know?
"That is a sign of Corpse Poison entering your body."
Ji Ye's voice was like a demon's whisper. "If you eat this Crimson Blood Ginseng, within three days your entire body will rot away, leaving you a puddle of blood. By then, forget breaking through to the Bone Forging Realm—even a great immortal could not save you."
This was a lie.
And it was also the truth.
The Crimson Blood Ginseng was not poisonous, but it was true that Zhao Hei Hu had gone wrong in his cultivation.
Through his [Martial Dao Heavenly Eye], Ji Ye had seen the stagnation in Zhao Hei Hu's meridians. Combining that with intelligence from his previous life, he had fabricated a perfect lie.
In this world of martial arts, the threat of "cultivation deviation" was more effective than blades and swords.
Cold sweat seeped from Zhao Hei Hu's forehead.
He believed him.
Because Ji Ye had been far too accurate.
"Then... what does sir suggest?" Zhao Hei Hu's imposing manner instantly crumbled, and even his form of address changed.
"This ginseng is a disaster."
Ji Ye sighed, looking like a man grieving for the heavens and pitying mankind. "But the authorities have special methods. We can burn it with fierce fire and remove the Corpse Poison. Of course, the process consumes a great deal of silver..."
"I'll pay!"
Zhao Hei Hu hurriedly said, "As long as the poison can be removed, money is no issue!"
"No, I won't take your money for this ginseng."
Ji Ye picked up the brocade box and weighed it in his hand. "But I must take this poisonous item back to the authorities for 'destruction.' Also, to prevent any remaining stock from flowing into the public, I will seal this shop for three days and disinfect it thoroughly."
"This..." Zhao Hei Hu's heart ached, but when he thought of his life, he still gritted his teeth. "Fine! We'll do as sir says!"
He even turned around and roared at his men, "What are you all standing around for? Help the officers put up the seals!"
A conflict that should have left rivers of blood had somehow become a fine tale of "cooperation between officials and citizens."
Holding the brocade box, Ji Ye turned and walked outside.
As he passed Iron Pagoda, who was still groaning on the ground, he stopped and kindly reminded him.
"Oh, right. Your wrist is dislocated. Remember to find a good physician to set it. Don't force it back yourself, or you may cripple it."
With that, he left the Ghost Market in full view of everyone, taking Wang Meng with him.
Only after they had gone far away did Wang Meng finally let out a long breath. His back was already soaked with cold sweat.
"Sir... was that ginseng really poisonous?" Wang Meng could not help asking.
Ji Ye opened the brocade box and looked at the blood-red ginseng inside, a smile curling at the corner of his lips.
"The ginseng is good. It isn't poisonous."
"Then you..."
"But there is poison in his heart."
Ji Ye closed the lid, his eyes deep and unfathomable.
"As long as there is a ghost in one's heart, even immortals can be frightened into submission."
"Let's go. We'll head back and brew medicine. With this, my body can finally move a little."
Amid the wind and snow, Ji Ye's back still looked thin and frail.
But in Wang Meng's eyes, that figure had become unfathomably profound.
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