The two continued wandering the streets of the Ghost Market. Having obtained what he needed, Chu Mo stopped leading the way and let Di Yang choose where to go instead. He intended to see whether the young man's luck really was extraordinary.
Though puzzled, Di Yang saw that Chu Mo was serious, so he summoned his courage and followed his instincts through the streets and alleys.
Sometimes he stopped before a stall selling burial goods; sometimes he turned toward the colorful lanterns by the roadside. His movements followed no discernible pattern.
Chu Mo followed silently behind him, neither guiding nor stopping him, merely scanning the surrounding crowds.
[Shadow Puppet Peddler], [Shadow Puppet Diviner], [Shadow Puppet Troupe].
Most of the night soon passed, and the time when they had to leave the Ghost Market drew near.
Just as Chu Mo thought they would gain nothing tonight, Di Yang rounded a street corner and suddenly stopped, his gaze drawn to an utterly ordinary stall ahead.
A white-haired old man tended the stall. From the name above his head, Chu Mo recognized him as an ordinary Nether Gathering Realm cultivator, rather than a shadow puppet entity.
The stall consisted of a simple blue cloth spread out with a few scattered items: a rusted fragment of a sword, a yellowed book, and a pitch-black stone.
"Senior," Di Yang turned back and transmitted his voice, "I feel... there's something special about that black stone."
Chu Mo's gaze fell on the black stone. A sweep of his divine thought identified it as a trinket capable of recording sound, but he could discern nothing special about it.
"Go take a look." Chu Mo betrayed nothing.
They approached the stall, and the white-haired old man looked up and greeted them warmly. "Oh, my two fellow Daoists,