Spirit Hall Envoy

Gu Ci frowned slightly. "Someone from Spirit Hall?"

"Not sure. But it's better to be cautious."

Gu Ci nodded. "I'll have Zi Dian and Night Shadow keep watch. Grandpa Dugu, have your people keep an eye out too."

Dugu Bo waved a hand. "Don't worry. Old Ghost is better at tailing people than anyone."

Gu Ci returned to his courtyard, where Dugu Yan and Ye Lingling were sitting at the stone table, a small Soul Light placed before them.

"Brother Gu Ci, look!"

Dugu Yan excitedly pointed at the lamp. "Lingling lit it with Soul Power! It's so pretty!"

White light shone across their faces, soft and warm.

Ye Lingling still wore her veil, but her cool eyes held an unusual hint of gentleness.

Gu Ci walked over and sat beside them.

"Lingling, do you like it?" he asked.

Ye Lingling nodded lightly. "It's very bright. Better than candles."

Gu Ci smiled. "Then I'll give you one."

Ye Lingling glanced at him without speaking, but the corners of her lips curved ever so slightly.

Dugu Yan leaned against Gu Ci's shoulder and whispered, "Brother Gu Ci, do you think every household will use lamps like these someday?"

Gu Ci thought for a moment. "They will."

"Then it won't be pitch-black at night anymore."

"That's right."

Dugu Yan looked up at him, her eyes full of hope. "Does that mean we've done something really good?"

Gu Ci paused, then smiled. "I suppose so."

He raised his head and looked toward the night sky.

The sky above Heaven Dou City was much brighter than it had been a month ago.

Those scattered points of light were slowly changing the city, little by little.

And all of this had only just begun.

Late at night, the Marquis Mansion fell quiet.

Zi Dian lay atop a stone platform in the courtyard, ears pricked as it vigilantly listened to the sounds around it.

Night Shadow lurked in a corner, blending into the darkness. Only the occasional flicker of its silver Thunder Pattern gave away its position.

In the darkness, a shadow silently swept over the wall of the Marquis Mansion.

Zi Dian's ears twitched, but it did not move. Night Shadow's Thunder Pattern flashed once, then faded away.

The shadow landed in the courtyard and was about to move forward when his foot suddenly slipped—

A rope snare had appeared on the ground at some point, catching his ankle perfectly.

Before the shadow could react, he was yanked upside down into the air.

"Heh heh."

Old Ghost's voice came from the darkness. "You little thief, why are you sneaking into the Marquis Mansion in the middle of the night instead of sleeping?"

The shadow struggled a few times, only to find that the more he struggled, the tighter the snare became. He had no choice but to admit defeat.

"I... I came to buy a lamp! I heard the Heavenly Workshop's lamps were good, so I wanted to take a look..."

Old Ghost emerged from the shadows, looked at the young man hanging in midair, and grinned. "Buy a lamp? Climbing over walls in the middle of the night to buy a lamp?"

The young man's face reddened, and he could not say a word.

Old Ghost waved his hand. The snare loosened, and the young man dropped to the ground.

"Get lost," Old Ghost said flatly.

"Climb over the wall again, and I'll break your legs."

The young man scrambled up and fled over the wall in a panic.

Old Ghost watched the direction in which he vanished, narrowing his eyes.

That young man was from Spirit Hall.

He turned and returned to the darkness, his figure disappearing from sight.

Early the next morning, an extra note appeared on Dugu Bo's table.

"Someone from Spirit Hall has arrived."

In the morning, just as the Heavenly Workshop opened its doors, it received an unwelcome guest.

He was a middle-aged man in his forties, dressed in a plain-colored robe. His features were ordinary, but his eyes were sharp enough to seem capable of seeing through people's hearts.

He stopped before the counter, his gaze sweeping over the Soul Lights and Soul Heaters on the shelves before finally settling on Qian Sihai.

"Shopkeeper, did you make all these things?"

Qian Sihai greeted him with a beaming smile. "Everything in this humble shop was crafted by our own artisans. What would you like to see, sir?"

The middle-aged man picked up a Soul Light and examined it from every angle.

He poured a thread of Soul Power into it. The lamp lit up, its white light steady and gentle.

"Good stuff."

He set down the lamp and looked at Qian Sihai. "Might the shopkeeper tell me where you learned the method for making these Soul Tools?"

Qian Sihai's smile did not change. "You must be joking, sir. It's a family craft passed down through generations and cannot be shared with outsiders."

"Passed down through generations?" The middle-aged man's lips curled slightly.

"As far as I know, the methods for crafting Soul Tools have been lost across the continent for over a thousand years."

"Your family tradition has certainly been passed down a long way."

Qian Sihai was startled inwardly, but his expression remained calm. "You are truly knowledgeable, sir. This old man admires you."

"But it really was handed down by my ancestors. As for how it was passed down, this old man cannot say."

The middle-aged man stared at him for a long while, then smiled and took out a token from his robes, placing it on the counter.

The token was entirely black, with a silver angel engraved on its face.

Qian Sihai's pupils contracted slightly.

Spirit Hall.

"I am Wang Hong, an external affairs Deacon of Spirit Hall."

The middle-aged man put away the token, his tone still calm.

"His Holiness the Pope is very interested in Soul Tools and would like to invite the shopkeeper to Spirit Hall as a guest, so you may have a proper discussion about these... family crafts."

Qian Sihai fell silent for a moment, then smiled. "Deacon Wang is too courteous."

"But this old man is getting on in years, and my legs are not in good shape. I cannot travel far."

"Besides, this little shop has only just opened. Business is too busy, and I truly cannot leave."

Wang Hong's smile faded somewhat. "Shopkeeper, this is His Holiness the Pope's wish."

Qian Sihai continued smiling, but his gaze had turned cold. "Deacon Wang, this old man is merely a small-time merchant."

"His Holiness the Pope manages countless affairs every day. Why trouble himself over such a trivial matter? Besides—"

He paused. "Though this old man is not capable of much, I do have a few old friends behind me. If they learn that someone has invited this old man away, I'm afraid they will be displeased."

Wang Hong narrowed his eyes. "Oh? What old friends?"

Qian Sihai did not answer. He merely glanced toward the backyard.

Following his gaze, Wang Hong faintly sensed a presence coming from the backyard.

That aura was deep and powerful, at least at the level of a Soul Douluo.

His expression changed slightly.

"So the shopkeeper has someone backing him. No wonder you fear nothing."

Wang Hong withdrew his gaze and resumed his smile.

"However, I am merely carrying out orders. Since the shopkeeper is unwilling, I will simply return and report back."

He cupped his hands, then turned to leave.

When he reached the entrance, he suddenly stopped and looked back. "Shopkeeper, these Soul Tools truly are excellent."

"But I have a saying for you, shopkeeper. Everyone wants good things. Only if you can keep them do they truly belong to you."

With that, he strode away.

Qian Sihai stood behind the counter, watching his back disappear into the crowd. His expression gradually darkened.

He turned and returned to the backyard, where Zhao Tieshan stood at the door, his expression equally unpleasant.

"Old Zhao, you heard everything?"

Zhao Tieshan nodded. "The people from Spirit Hall have come with ill intent."

Qian Sihai sighed. "That kid was right. These things were bound to bring trouble sooner or later. I just didn't expect it to come so quickly."

"What do we do?"

"Tell Old Poison first," Qian Sihai said. "Let that kid decide."