Seeing Song Wen enter the shop, a young novice monk at the Foundation Establishment Early Stage came forward to greet him in the Wonderful Ease Pavilion.
"Senior, what sort of spiritual goods would you like to purchase?"
"Sorry for the trouble, young friend, but please summon your shop's steward," Song Wen said. "There are a few things I would like to ask him."
The novice looked Song Wen up and down.
Song Wen was entirely shrouded in a black cloak, and the novice could not sense the slightest trace of his aura.
A troubled look crept onto his face.
"Senior, our steward is a busy man and cannot personally attend to every customer." His tone was plainly evasive. Not just anyone was qualified to meet the steward.
Song Wen turned his hand over and produced a flying sword. It was a supreme-grade magical treasure he had obtained after killing Zhong Ren.
Though the flying sword had not been activated, the keen aura it naturally exuded instantly made the novice feel as though he had plunged into an abyss. He felt that the sword's aura might erase him from existence at any moment.
The novice's composure collapsed at once. His body shook violently beyond his control, and he was on the verge of falling to the ground.
Fortunately, Song Wen returned the flying sword to his storage ring a moment later, and the suffocating pressure vanished with it. The novice felt as though he had been granted a pardon, relief at surviving a brush with death flooding his heart.
"I wish to sell this flying sword and discuss the matter with your steward in person. Would that be possible?" Song Wen asked mildly.
The novice had yet to fully recover from his fear of imminent death and answered tremblingly.
"Senior... please