Entering the Black Market!

Entering the Black Market! Night hung heavy over all of Wurong County!

A figure moved like a ghost through the darkness at street corners and alleyways, his footsteps as light as a phantom's. Whenever city guards on their nightly patrol passed by, he seemed to know in advance and easily avoided them.

Heading west, the figure soon arrived outside an abandoned old alley tucked into the northwestern corner of Wurong County, seemingly wedged into a crack beside the city wall.

If he had not come here before out of curiosity, Chen An would never have imagined that this old alley—deserted by day, its houses broken and collapsed everywhere, looking utterly abandoned—would actually be where the black market was located.

After walking forward over a hundred paces, the view suddenly opened up, and a dilapidated courtyard appeared before him.

The courtyard walls were mottled and decayed, its wooden gate old and cracked. Beneath the eaves outside hung a row of dim black lanterns, their yellow light faint and flickering. They could barely cast a hazy ring of darkness, leaving most of the surrounding area buried in deep shadows.

Several burly men dressed in black stood ramrod-straight on either side of the gate. Their expressions were cold and hard, their brows sinister, and fierce, violent murderous aura coiled around them.

These men were all martial artists of at least the Qi Condensation realm.

Chen An walked forward steadily, his pace calm and unhurried.

He reached into his robes, pinched a cool Yuan Crystal between his fingers, and casually tossed it into the palm of one of the burly gatekeepers.

The man caught it, weighed it twice, and cast a bland glance at Chen An.

Seeing him clad in a black hooded cloak, his face hidden beneath the hood with only half exposed, the man did not question him further.

The black market had always cared only for profit, never for one's origins.

So long as one paid the entrance fee, caused no trouble, and did not pick fights, no matter who they were or where they came from, they could enter safely.

The sinister-looking leader withdrew his gaze, stepped aside, and raised a hand. He spoke coldly in a hoarse, grating voice. "You know the rules. Inside, every deal depends on your own ability. No fighting. Break the rules, and you die!"

That simple warning was the black market's only bottom line.

The other thugs remained where they were, their wary eyes sweeping over newcomers at the alley entrance as they ignored Chen An.

Chen An gave a slight nod without another word. He stepped over the courtyard gate and calmly entered this black market hidden deep within the ruined alley, a place where fish and dragons mingled.

Beyond the gate, the space suddenly opened up. Before him was a place bustling with people and lined with rows of stalls, much like a night-market square from his previous life.

Most of the vendors had their faces covered, either concealed behind black cloth or shadowed beneath low-brimmed conical hats. Their expressions were gloomy and cold. Quite a few were wrapped in ragged, heavy cloaks, hiding their faces and aura completely, unwilling to reveal even a trace.

No one shouted to hawk their wares. Every exchange was kept extremely low, all whispers and secret bargaining.

The stalls displayed a dazzling array of goods: all manner of weapons, ferocious beast meat that was rarely seen elsewhere, pills of unknown origin, handwritten copies of cultivation methods and martial techniques, and even contraband strictly forbidden on the surface, all quietly changing hands here.

Passersby hurried along with guarded expressions. When they brushed past one another, none met the other's eyes, only sizing each other up from the corners of their vision.

The air was thick with the bitterness of herbs, the fishy stench of ferocious beasts, the rusty smell of iron, and faint wisps of killing intent, all of it hanging heavily over the entire black market.

After sweeping his gaze across the black market, Chen An did not hurry to sell the bottle of Qi Condensation Pills in his robes. Instead, he first browsed the stalls.

His gaze passed over stall after stall. Sharp weapons, demon beast materials, cultivation methods, martial techniques, medicinal powders, and spirit pills—everything was available.

The stall owners were all sparing with words, speaking in low voices to bargain only when a customer stopped before them. Every corner of the place reeked of secrecy and caution.

"Hmm?!"

Suddenly, Chen An stopped in front of a stall.

The owner of this stall was somewhat unusual: an old man with a long beard.

Unlike the others, he did not hide himself at all. He wore an ordinary long robe, his face undisguised, and sat there openly.

The old man sat lazily with his eyelids half lowered. He neither called out to customers nor deliberately watched the passing crowd, as though the surrounding chaos, schemes, and killing intent had nothing to do with him.

Chen An's eyes narrowed slightly, and he quietly became more vigilant.

When something is out of the ordinary, there must be a demon behind it!

To dare show his face without the slightest disguise in the black market, he was either a fool who knew neither heaven's height nor earth's depth, or an ultimate expert with absolute strength who feared no one's covetous eyes.

Suppressing his surprise, Chen An pretended to stop casually and slowly lowered his gaze toward the items laid out before the old man.

A pile of books!

More precisely, it was a heap of yellowed, curled ancient books and handwritten scrolls, all of them secret records of various cultivation methods and martial techniques.

The pages were old and the ink faded. Some covers were torn and incomplete, while others were simply bundled in coarse linen. They appeared utterly unremarkable, yet amid this black market where fish and dragons mingled, they stood out conspicuously.

Seeing this, Chen An became even more cautious.

Cultivation methods and martial techniques were immensely precious. Ordinary factions kept them under strict control and would never allow them to drift freely into the streets.

Yet this man dared openly set up a stall to sell them in the black market, without concealing his appearance or identity. He was certainly no ordinary person.

Without betraying anything, Chen An lightly swept his gaze over the titles of those scrolls.

Most were Yellow-rank martial techniques and cultivation methods, with only a few Profound-rank ones. However, the categories were diverse: saber arts, palm techniques, movement arts, body-tempering secret arts—everything was there.

Chen An briefly flipped through them, then picked up a martial technique marked as low-grade Profound-rank, titled Black Tortoise Breath-Concealing Art. He glanced at the stall owner, and seeing no objection, he opened it and read.

The contents were sparse, containing only a few pages of introduction along with several scattered, rudimentary verses. It was incomplete and could not be considered a complete martial technique at all.

Chen An was not surprised in the slightest.

If it had been a truly complete Profound-rank martial technique, it would have been immensely valuable and precious. How could it possibly be casually laid out at a small black-market stall for anyone to browse?

Most of what was displayed openly were incomplete fragments, useless volumes, and damaged copies passed down through the years. Their ranks might look enticing, but they could not be cultivated completely. Either they easily caused deviation and madness, or their power was less than one-tenth of what it should have been. At best, they could serve as references.

His fingertips brushed over the yellowed, rough pages, and understanding settled in his heart.

After flipping through several more cultivation methods and martial techniques and finding all of them incomplete, Chen An lost interest. He asked nothing, set them down, and turned to leave.

Only after he had turned away did the old man, who seemed to have been asleep, slowly raise his head. His cloudy eyes followed Chen An for a moment before he closed them again and resumed his feigned slumber.

After making a round and gaining some understanding of the black market, Chen An found an empty spot in a corner. He took out a sheet of paper prepared beforehand and the bottle of Qi Condensation Pills, set them down, and sat cross-legged.

People came and went through the black market, and before long, someone noticed the lone white jade bottle laid out before him.

Ordinary medicine bottles were crude and plain. A white jade vessel with such fine texture clearly contained high-grade pills, instantly drawing the attention of quite a few people.

Before long, a figure with steady footsteps slowly approached...