Black Market and Pills

The city was under government control, so many things that could not bear the light of day needed special channels to be sold. Thus, the Black Market came into being.

Many things rarely seen in ordinary times could be bought here, along with many illegal goods.

"Market entry fee: one Big Coin. Fighting is forbidden after entering. Violators will bear the consequences themselves."

At the entrance, a bearded brute eyed Zhong Lin coldly. A basket sat beside him, already piled with quite a few copper coins.

Zhong Lin nodded. Old Zhou had told him the rules here long ago. He took a copper coin from his chest and tossed it in, then stepped into the Black Market.

There were many people coming and going. Everyone had black cloth wrapped around their faces or wore masks. Of course, some bold souls wore nothing at all.

Zhong Lin strolled through the Black Market. The vendors inside did not hawk their wares, merely setting up their stalls quietly to one side.

A torch stood every few meters. Who knew what material these torches were made of? Their light was dim rather than bright, steeped in a murky, hazy feeling. To see the items on a stall clearly, one had to inspect them up close.

Zhong Lin did not walk quickly. He examined every stall and also came to understand why a Black Market had formed here. The main reason was that the goods sold within truly could not bear the light of day.

For example, the stall where Zhong Lin had stopped mainly sold medicine—not the medicine found in clinics, but things like Sleeping Drugs and poisons. Zhong Lin even spotted the venom of the Golden Ringed Snake that he had gathered with such difficulty.

Which clinic in the County Town would dare sell such things? Yet here, they were displayed and sold openly. The people around them were unsurprised, clearly long accustomed to it.

Some stalls sold weapons. Blades, swords, and daggers were nothing worth mentioning, but there was even a crossbow mixed among them.

If that thing appeared in the County Town, the authorities would likely seize it at once.

Unlike bows and arrows, which required a certain amount of practice to use, even a child could use a crossbow to kill someone. It was also compact and easy to hide.

Zhong Lin continued onward when a furtive figure suddenly blocked his path. Just as he quietly raised his guard, the tall, skinny man pulled a booklet from his robes.

"Little brother, want a manual?"

"Heh!"

Zhong Lin scoffed, turned, and left, not bothering with the man at all.

Old Zhou had told him about this as well. In the Black Market, one could buy anything, but one must never buy Martial Arts Manuals, because they were all fake.

In this era, sectarian secrecy was far more deeply rooted than in his previous life. Even a craft—carpentry, blacksmithing, tofu grinding...—was a family trade and a means of putting food on the table, not lightly passed on to outsiders.

If it was passed on, it went to sons, not daughters. If there were no sons, a personal disciple might be accepted, but even then they would have to be "tested" for more than ten years, with one trick still held back.

Teaching an apprentice to starve the master was no joke.

The root cause was that people in this era did not travel far. Some might never leave the place where they lived in their entire lives. A skill known by one person was a unique secret art; once two people knew it, there was competition; if even more people knew it, some might truly starve to death.

Ordinary skills were already like this, let alone Martial Arts Manuals.

Even if they were written into books, who knew how many coded phrases and hidden meanings they contained? That was one thing, but the more infuriating part was this: the crucial sections were often omitted from the records and passed down only by word of mouth.

This was even more treacherous than the Nine Yin White Bone Claw. At worst, practicing the Nine Yin White Bone Claw incorrectly would mean "Destroying the Enemy's Head"; if one practiced the martial arts manuals here incorrectly, one might truly end up half-paralyzed or die on the spot.

So before he came in, Old Zhou had specifically told him that there was no need to distinguish which manuals in the Black Market were fake. He should ask which ones were real.

Those whose opening sections were genuine manuals could already be considered conscientious. Worse still were those that, apart from the name, were entirely a mixture of truth and falsehood. Those were the real traps.

"My System Panel doesn't have any function for telling real from fake. Don't practice blindly."

With that thought, Zhong Lin quickened his pace.

The tall, skinny man watched Zhong Lin leave and shook his head. "What a pity. Didn't manage to fleece him. Time to find the next one!"

That fellow's method of scamming people was to grab someone and ask. If he happened upon a greenhorn, he could make a fortune.

Zhong Lin continued onward, constantly looking over the stalls on both sides. He gained a clearer understanding of just how "wild" the Black Market's goods were.

The ordinary goods included all sorts of mountain and wilderness game, such as wild chickens, wild boars, tiger bones, and the like.

There were also stalls selling "Burial Objects." Judging by the dirt and dampness on them, they had clearly been dug up not long ago.

Digging up someone's ancestral graves was also a grave crime in this world. Once caught, they would be beaten to death without question.

Deeper inside, Zhong Lin even saw people being sold.

At a rather dim stall sat an old woman with graying hair. Though black cloth covered her face, she was clearly advanced in years. Several sturdy young men stood beside her.

Their merchandise was five unconscious children—three boys and two girls. Every one of them had been raised fair and clean. Judging from their clothes, their families had likely been quite well-off, but now they had been abducted and sold as goods.

A flash of killing intent passed through Zhong Lin's eyes. He had always held only one attitude toward human traffickers: kill without mercy.

But the Black Market had its own rules, and Zhong Lin did not yet have the strength to shake it.

A moment later, Zhong Lin stopped before a stall. Its owner wore a ghost-face mask, concealing his true appearance. Before him sat small porcelain bottles, each thoughtfully labeled with a name on red paper.

Youth Preservation Pill, Detoxification Pill, Blood Replenishment Pill, Talent Enhancement Pill, Bone Strengthening Pill.

At the sight of these names, Zhong Lin's breathing quickened. These were also the reason he had come to the Ghost Market today.

After his martial arts entered the ranks, the effects of the Eight Treasures Blood Nourishing Soup had become far inferior to before. Zhong Lin had therefore gone to the clinic again to ask whether there were medicinal soups with stronger effects.

Naturally, there were not. However, he had learned from the physician about another, even more miraculous thing in this world.

Pills.

A method of refining medicinal herbs through special techniques, gathering their essence into pills.

They were not the heavy-metal pills concocted by alchemists in his previous life, but pills that genuinely helped martial artists cultivate.

A tiny County Town like Black Mountain County did not have pills. Such things were sold only in the Prefecture City. However, one might find one or two in the Black Market, which was why Zhong Lin had asked Old Zhou about it.

Zhong Lin crouched down and pointed at the porcelain bottle labeled Blood Replenishment Pill. "How much is this?"

"Ten taels of silver."

The voice was somewhat hoarse. He did not know whether that was its natural sound or deliberately disguised.

"One bottle?"

"One pill."

Zhong Lin felt his teeth ache at that. Fucking expensive!

The Eight Treasures Blood Nourishing Soup cost only three taels of silver per packet, and the key was that it lasted three days. He did not even know how effective this Blood Replenishment Pill was.

"What about the Bone Strengthening Pill?"

"Thirty taels."

"One bottle?"

"...What do you think?"