I looked over the blood contract in my hand and gave a sly smile. This counted as the market rate, equivalent to the price of an immortal family's coachman. Mo Xiaoning must have been desperate for work—he'd signed a hundred-year contract on the spot.
Mo Xiaoning watched me flick the blood contract, making it dissipate and merge into the world's Dao orthodoxy. He didn't feel cheated, but he did think the twins behind me were smiling far too slyly, and couldn't help asking, "What's that supposed to mean? Jealous that your martial uncle signed a hundred-year job? That's what's wrong with you little girls. With the advantage of being close to your master, you don't know how to secure yourselves a stable job while you're still young. In a few years, when your master gets tired of looking at you and kicks you out, I bet you'll have to drink northwest wind. And you're still laughing? What the hell are you laughing at?"
Hua Ling couldn't help saying, "Master would never abandon us, as long as we behaved."
"What's the use of behaving? The money in your hands is what matters!" Mo Xiaoning couldn't help rubbing the five tribulation lightning crystals in his hand. Five taels a month was quite a solid deal.
"Master gives us more than that." Hua Qin naturally refused to back down. The girl had a backbone of her own.
"Heh, it's not like you're selling yourselves. With your cultivation, can you exceed five taels of tribulation lightning crystals?" Mo Xiaoning said disdainfully. The fatty was thick-skinned and didn't care whether the girls liked hearing it.
"All right, Hua Qin, stop talking. What Master gives us isn't wages. It's only for our cultivation." Hua Ling hurriedly cut the girl off before she could say anything foolish.