After Zhou Qing returned to his room, he looked at Old Hen, whose eyes were bulging as she stared blankly at a wooden pillar, and painfully took out the Spirit Egg shell, the High-Grade Spirit Stones, and the empty Top-Grade Spirit Stone shell. He crushed them and laid the pieces before her.
"This time, the losses are simply too great!"
As if she had smelled something, Old Hen hurriedly lowered her head and began pecking at the cracks between the bricks beside her with rapid "tap tap" sounds.
Zhou Qing quickly straightened her head.
Only after watching her eat with great relish did Zhou Qing rise, return to the table, and take out the two Mid-Grade Spirit Stones Duanmu Shu had bestowed upon him. Only then did he feel slightly better.
"With these two, plus the three thousand Low-Grade Spirit Stones I earned from the Trade Fair, this is all my worldly wealth!"
Zhou Qing carefully put them away, then took out that broken sword and inspected it closely.
"This sword looks as though it was never broken to begin with. Could it have been forged like this?"
Zhou Qing muttered to himself, then found a whetstone and got to work on it.
Sparks flew everywhere, yet not a single bit of rust came off. It was damn firmly stuck.
"Forget it. Never mind whether it's good or bad—at the very least, this sword is highly deceptive. Whoever sees you pull out a rusty broken sword like this won't take it seriously. Maybe someone will even stretch out their neck for you to chop, mocking this chipped blade for not being sharp enough!"
After imagining the scene, Zhou Qing could not help laughing aloud.
Then, holding the broken sword, he made a few gestures at the whetstone before bringing it