Turbulence Within the Sect Chapter 22: Paying for Peace

Strolling through the market with a heavy heart, Chu Xing pondered if there were any other options. His gaze swept idly over the stalls on either side, most of which were filled with trinkets whose names he did not even know.

After circling the market again, he still had no leads. Chu Xing felt a sense of agitation; did he really have to go back to Baicao Ravine and rummage through things again?

Perhaps... he should head to the Pill Hall’s storehouse tonight to see if he could "borrow" something?

He just hoped he wouldn’t run into that woman, Mu Wanqing, again; that would only lead to more trouble.

This thought invigorated him, and he felt as if the path ahead had brightened once more.

Just as he reached a stall specializing in various ores and was about to turn away, the black stone bead in his dantian suddenly, and without warning, grew slightly warm.

The familiar throb of energy caused Chu Xing’s unfocused eyes to snap into sharp focus.

The warmth vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Had Chu Xing not been so acutely sensitive to the bead, he might have dismissed it as a mere hallucination.

"What is this?"

His heart stirred, and his gaze locked onto the stall beside him, the one selling various ores.

He turned around calmly, feigning interest in the minerals, and crouched down before the stall.

His eyes scanned the colorful array of ores one by one.

Finally, they landed on an unremarkable, dusty gray stone in the corner.

The stone was only the size of a fist, its surface pitted and scarred; if it were lying on the side of the road, no one would likely give it a second glance. Yet, the warmth emanating from the stone bead pointed clearly toward it.

"Old man, how much for this one?"

The stall owner was an elderly man with a kind face, currently busy wiping down a piece of yellow ore. Hearing the question, he looked up and glanced in the direction of Chu Xing’s finger.

"This?" He paused his work, a hint of confusion crossing his face.

"Young man, I dug this out of a mine myself. It’s dark and ugly; I have no idea what it is." The old man spoke honestly. "If you like it, just take it for one low-grade spirit stone."

One low-grade spirit stone.

Chu Xing’s hand, reaching for the stone, faltered imperceptibly.

He subconsciously patted his empty pockets, a flash of subtle embarrassment crossing his face.

He fell silent for a moment, struggling internally.

Ultimately, Chu Xing took out a tattered cloth bag from his tunic and poured a single Blue-Vein Grass seed into his palm.

Since the stone bead was reacting, he would have to trade for it.

He carefully handed over the seed, which shimmered with a faint, flowing light.

"Old man, look... I don’t have any spirit stones on me. Would you accept this seed in trade?"

The old man was startled at first, but when his eyes landed on the seed, a flash of surprise crossed his clouded gaze.

The color, the rich spiritual energy... this was no piece of junk.

But when he looked up and saw Chu Xing’s faded servant uniform and his somewhat frail frame, he couldn't help but shake his head. He didn't ask any more questions and reached out to take the seed, clearly assuming Chu Xing was a destitute sect disciple.

"Fine, it's a deal."

The old man handed the black stone to Chu Xing, then paused for a moment, reached into the money pouch at his waist, and fished out nine low-grade spirit stones, pressing them into his hand.

"This seed is worth about ten spirit stones on the market. I’ll take one, and here are the remaining nine for you."

Holding the nine low-grade spirit stones, Chu Xing was stunned. He looked up at the old man, his mouth agape.

"Thank you, sir." Chu Xing finally said, tucking the spirit stones and the black rock into his robe and bowing solemnly in gratitude.

He had just stood up and hadn't even had a chance to say anything else when two large figures shoved their way over. One of them slammed into Chu Xing, knocking him aside.

Leading them was a burly man with a face full of excess flesh, followed by a thin, tall man with a mean-spirited expression.

The burly man threw two shards of broken ore onto the stall. His movements weren't heavy, but the fierce glint in his eyes caused the surrounding crowd to quiet down significantly.

"Old man," the burly man began, his voice heavy with intimidation, "this ore you sold me yesterday, the one you claimed could clear the mind and sharpen the eyes—it’s a fake!"

He pointed at the broken shards, his voice rising sharply. "I embarrassed myself showing it off to my fellow disciples yesterday, and it turned out to be completely useless! You’re making me lose face in public! You con artist, are you tired of living?"

The old man turned pale with fear and waved his hands frantically. "Customer, that... that’s impossible! I, Old Li, have been running this stall for over a dozen years; I never sell fakes."

"Never sell fakes?" The thin, tall man sneered, pointing at the shards on the ground. "Then what is this? Are you suggesting we broke it ourselves just to extort you?"

The old man was sweating profusely, stepping forward to defend himself. "Customer, could there be a mistake? I have so many stones here, perhaps... perhaps you remembered incorrectly?"

Chu Xing had been pushed back a few steps; as he regained his footing, he frowned. The old man had just insisted on returning the extra nine spirit stones—such an honest man wouldn't sell fakes.

He narrowed his eyes, feeling that the two men looked vaguely familiar, though he couldn't recall where he had seen them.

Just as he was about to speak up for the old man, the elder shook his head slightly, his eyes filled with supplication, and whispered, "Money can buy peace; a moment of tolerance brings tranquility."

The old man turned back, forcing a smile that looked worse than crying. "It is this old man’s fault, my eyes must have failed me. I will compensate you both with ten low-grade spirit stones; let’s just leave it at that, shall we?"

"Who the hell wants your stinking spirit stones!" The burly man shoved the old man's hand away. "Today, we want an explanation! You old fraud, you must admit in front of everyone that you sell fakes, and then get out of this market!"

The thin, tall accomplice then turned his hostility toward Chu Xing.

"And you! Is this kid in on it with you?"

Upon hearing this, a cold glint flashed in Chu Xing’s eyes.

The old man’s face, which had been full of pleading, went blank; he clearly hadn't expected them to say such a thing.

They didn't want money?

This wasn't about profit; they were trying to ruin his livelihood!

"Old man, have you offended anyone recently?" Chu Xing lowered his voice and asked in the old man's ear.

The old man shook his head blankly, his face bitter. "No, I’m just an old man selling ores, who could I possibly offend?"

The crowd watching the spectacle began to whisper among themselves.

"These two are speaking so convincingly, could Old Li really be selling fakes?"

"Looks like it; otherwise, why would he be willing to pay them off? Isn't that a guilty conscience?"

"Tsk tsk, you really can’t judge a book by its cover."

Just as the atmosphere reached a stalemate, a crisp, melodious female voice drifted in from outside the crowd.

"I wondered who was being so overbearing."

Everyone turned toward the sound, instinctively parting to create a path.

A young woman in a vibrant emerald-green dress walked in. She was slender and graceful, with a bright, beautiful face and lively, sparkling eyes that danced with a faint, mocking smile.

Her sharp gaze swept across the scene, and the noisy crowd instantly quieted down.