An Old Acquaintance

Over the course of three full days, a total of six hundred lots went under the hammer at the Fish Mountain Treasure Fair. None were of poor quality, and all counted as good things for Qi Refining Realm cultivators.

Even those who bought nothing had at least broadened their horizons. Most of the attendees had, at the very least, not wasted their two-Spirit-Stone admission fee.

Even Kang Dabao had bid on a fine set of talisman-making tools. It wasn't expensive, costing only a hundred-odd Spirit Stones, and several stacks of fine talisman paper had been thrown in.

He figured that if he hit another bottleneck as he had before, he might as well use that time to practice a craft and earn some Spirit Stones.

In a quiet room at the Fellow Cultivators Association.

"Please count them, Fellow Daoist Kang. There are 2,430 Spirit Stones here." Gui Xiang handed Kang Dabao a Storage Bag full of Spirit Stones, a warm smile on his face.

"Of course I trust you, Brother Gui." Despite what he said, Kang Dabao still sneaked a glance into the Storage Bag with his Divine Sense as he took it.

"This fair has brought your association quite a haul!" Kang Dabao counted the Spirit Stones in the Storage Bag in moments. In high spirits, he offered his congratulations.

He knew the Fellow Cultivators Association's commission rates. Even lots belonging to someone like him, who was close to the association, were charged five percent, while items brought in by ordinary Rogue Cultivators could be charged as much as twenty to thirty percent.

Of course, the amount a Rogue Cultivator received was guaranteed to be no less than the value appraised before the auction.

"Not as much as you think, Brother. Just having that senior from the Purple Mountain Sect oversee things for a month cost this much." Gui Xiang made a gesture.

"Those Foundation Establishment cultivators really know how to make money!" Kang Dabao thought enviously. Still, the Fellow Cultivators Association really did have extensive connections, to be able to invite someone from the Purple Mountain Sect in neighboring Ding Prefecture.

The Purple Mountain Sect's leader was a veteran Foundation Establishment cultivator with a good reputation who rarely ventured out. No wonder the Fellow Cultivators Association had been able to keep things under control this time.

"That's only because Lord Shan had some friendship with that senior in years past. Otherwise, we might not have gotten that price," Gui Xiang added.

Kang Dabao understood at once and put on a look of realization. After chatting with Gui Xiang a while longer, he took his leave. "Brother Qin is a busy man, so I won't go and bid him farewell. Sorry for the trouble, Brother Gui, but please pass the word along."

"Think nothing of it. The association head is busy. But it wasn't easy for you to make the trip, Brother, so I must at least treat you to a few drinks."

"I appreciate the thought, I really do, but I must get back early. Come visit the Chongming Sect when you have time, Brother, and I'll treat you then."

"It's a deal, then."

"A deal, a deal. Stay here, Brother. There's no need to see me out, no need at all."

Only after Kang Dabao left the quiet room did Gui Xiang take a talisman from his Storage Bag. He pondered for a long while, then a spark of Yang fire rose between his fingers, burning the talisman to drifting ash.

Master and three disciples climbed into the donkey cart as soon as they went outside.

"Master, are we just leaving like this?" Han Yundao finally asked. The two younger disciples both looked weighed down by worries.

"What else would we do? Neither of you has the Spirit Stones to treat me to a feast," Kang Dabao said with a curl of his lip.

"When we get back, I'll stew a pork knuckle for you, Master," Duan Anle chimed in, putting on an obedient act.

"Heh, you've been stewing them all these years, and you're still not as good at it as Shilun." Kang Dabao sneered.

Jin Shilun was taken aback. He hadn't expected the first praise he'd received from his master since becoming his disciple to be for his skill at that particular craft.

"I wanted to go see Brother Wu," Han Yundao said, finally working up his courage.

"Do you know that even if he worked as a guide until he was forty, he might not be able to afford those two Fire-Dispelling Pills?" Kang Dabao's meaning was plain.

"I just think Brother Wu isn't a bad person," Han Yundao began, but before he could finish, Kang Dabao knitted his brows and snapped, "Brainless fool! He tricked you out of your Spirit Stones, and for all you know, he's calling you a simpleton behind your back!"

Han Yundao was, after all, a child not yet ten. At the scolding, he turned his back, his eyes reddening, and said nothing more. The stubbornness on his face had yet to fade.

"Master, I told Brother Wu and the others I'd come see them again," Duan Anle chimed in.

Kang Dabao was about to curse again, but seeing Han Yundao like that, he held his tongue. He glanced sideways at Jin Shilun, hoping this more sensible disciple would speak up in support, only to see that Jin Shilun had already buried his head in his collar.

Forget it. Kindhearted disciples were better than coldhearted ones.

He cursed once more in his heart, then tossed the cart whip at Han Yundao and shouted, "Get driving! Do I know the way?!"

A smile immediately returned to Han Yundao's face. He cheerfully picked up the whip and cracked it against the old donkey's thick hide.

"Uncle, have a taste. Brother Wu just got this White-Cavity Swine soup on credit from the Five Flavors House." Pei Que pushed open the door, letting a faint beam of light into the dim room.

"Jie'er." The tall man was awake now and looked to be in good spirits. Though his wound had not healed, the edges had gradually begun to scab over.

"Uncle, eat this quickly. You'll get better sooner." Pei Que brought over a steaming white jade bowl.

The man didn't refuse and ate in great mouthfuls. The White-Cavity Swine was the cheapest First-Tier Lower-Grade spirit beast raised for meat in Cloud Horn Prefecture.

The bowl contained only refined rice with a few fingernail-sized pieces of White-Cavity Swine fat. It hardly counted as proper Spirit Cuisine. Otherwise, how could Wu Meng, with the little standing he had as a market errand boy, have gotten it on credit?

Even a mosquito's leg was meat. Cheap as the White-Cavity Swine soup was, the man didn't look down on it in the least. He opened his mouth wide and gulped it down in a few bites, leaving not a drop of broth.

"This is our tenth day in this shelter house, isn't it?" the man said, lying on his stomach on the bed.

"The eleventh." Pei Que's expression dimmed slightly.

"Then there are four days left," the man murmured.

The market wasn't entirely without compassion for cultivators who were short of money and couldn't afford the Spirit Stones for rent. They could stay another half a month in a shelter house.

The market had deliberately set aside dilapidated houses that had never been repaired, worse even than the mortal dwellings in the market. It wasn't because there were no empty houses; the sole purpose was to force the cultivators living there to scrape together Spirit Stones as soon as possible.

But if they still couldn't produce Spirit Stones after half a month, that last bit of compassion would run out.

If they didn't have the sense to leave and continued staying past the deadline, the market managers would come drive them out with black, shiny iron rulers.

"That scoundrel took my Storage Bag too. He must be waiting right outside the market." The man's tone was heavy. He had cultivated for many years and faced life-and-death crises several times, but this was the first time he'd fallen to such a state.

He had accepted an invitation from a close Rogue Cultivator friend to explore a cultivator's cave abode, but their luck had been bad and they'd come away empty-handed. He had never imagined that his friend would try to kill him on the way back.

They'd been friends for more than ten years! How had it come to this?

Even a friend of more than ten years had stabbed him in the back. He had other acquaintances in the market, but he no longer dared trust them. He had endured his injuries for a long time and had nearly succumbed to burns that weren't originally all that serious.

Although Wu Meng had now tricked someone out of two Fire-Dispelling Pills for him, recovering took time, to say nothing of the fact that he had lost everything he owned.

His friend had originally been only slightly less capable than him. With one weakened and the other strengthened, if he were cornered by him four days from now...

"Jie'er, after four days, you'd better stay in the market with that boy Wu," the man said.

The market didn't drive mortals away; they could find a spot under a bridge and huddle there. Cultivators, however, had to rent lodgings if they wanted to stay in the market indefinitely.

"Uncle-" Pei Que began, but the man cut him off. "If you're not there, my chances of escaping alive will be thirty percent higher."

Pei Que was about to speak again when a heavy object smashed the door open, and a small boy was thrown inside.

The man's gaze sharpened. He raised a hand and sent out a breeze, which caught the boy and lowered him steadily to the ground.

"Brother Wu!" Pei Que cried.

"Immortal Master Pei, Brother Pei, their master has come to settle accounts." A bitter smile appeared on Wu Meng's fair little face.

Hearing this, the man forced his sick body halfway upright and called the two boys over, sheltering them beside him. He spoke in a deep voice toward the doorway. "I, Pei, will surely raise the Spirit Stones for the Fire-Dispelling Pills as soon as possible and add a further sum in thanks. I hope you'll give me some time, Fellow Daoist."

"Having one child trick another out of his Spirit Stones-have you no shame, you mud-legged fellow?" Kang Dabao stood outside the door with his three disciples and scolded him sternly.

In all his years as a traveling merchant, he, Grand Sect Leader Kang, had only ever been the one to trick others. When had anyone ever tricked him? Except for that lousy bone.

And now, just after entering the Dao, his disciples had been tricked! How could he swallow that anger?

The man on the sickbed looked closely. Outside stood a big, burly man with three youths. The man's face was fierce, while the three youths behind him looked thoroughly apologetic.

Wait, the man looked somewhat familiar.

"Little Brother Wu, are you hurt? My master has a bad temper. Please bear with him," Han Yundao said, cupping his fists.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." Wu Meng shook his little head vigorously. If he said any more now, what would he do if someone threw a fireball at him?

"Brother Pei, is your uncle's injury any better?" Jin Shilun failed to stop him, and Duan Anle spoke up as well.

"It's all thanks to you three brothers and your noble kindness. Uncle's injury is much better now." Meeting Kang Dabao's gaze, Pei Que felt a little awkward, but still answered softly.

"Hey!" Kang Dabao was so angry he laughed. Now they were chatting? Didn't that completely ruin the atmosphere he'd gone out of his way to create by bursting through the door?!

So everyone else was a good person, and he'd become the villain?

"Forget it. It's only two Spirit Stones, and I'm rich now. I won't stoop to their level." Kang Dabao forced himself to take comfort in that and turned to his disciples. "You've seen them now and can put your minds at rest, right? Now all of you, get back there."

He tossed something into the room and said, "The Yang-Dispelling Grass Wo Pill House uses in its Fire-Dispelling Pills isn't old enough. If you've got the nerve, drink this flask of Cold Cicada Wine in three portions a day. There's enough to last you ten days, and it'll help you recover faster."

The others present weren't the only ones surprised. Even Kang Dabao didn't know why he'd suddenly become such a bleeding heart. A flask of Cold Cicada Wine would sell for seven or eight Spirit Stones at least. Perhaps it was because the man on the bed looked somewhat familiar?

"This Cold Cicada Wine of yours isn't potent enough. It's short at least three qian of Grass Jade." The man showed no suspicion at all. He uncorked the flask and sniffed it with an easy expression.

"You mud-legged fellow-"

Kang Dabao, who had come close to the doorway, swallowed the curse back down and stared closely at the man on the bed, a complicated look on his face.

"You're..."

Thank you all for your votes and support. The contract was signed today, and Old Bai will put even more care into writing from here on.

I hope those of you who have the time will keep reading, vote, and leave comments.

And brothers who are thinking of tipping or casting monthly votes, please don't hold back. Corrupt me to your hearts' content!