Chapter Twenty-Two: A Night of Murder Under Dark Winds

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The great hall of the Red Blossom Pavilion teemed with people. In the ancient building, whose ceiling reached nearly ten meters high, clusters of enormous red flowers hung suspended in midair, each with a long strip of cloth dangling from its stamen. On these strips, task objectives, rewards, and deadlines were densely inscribed.

"This is the Red Blossom Hall. See those clusters of red flowers? If you wish to accept a task, pluck a petal from the flower, then go to the registration platform to sign up. Each task is limited to three hundred participants. There, that's your red blossom reward," Peng Chong pointed to a flower hanging on the western side of the hall.

Compared to the others, this flower's petals had been nearly all plucked, fewer than twenty remained. Capturing a mere scholar could earn one a thousand taels of silver. The temptation was undeniable.

Qixiu shook his head slightly, curiosity prompting him to examine the other reward flowers in the hall. Noticing Qixiu's attention shift, Peng Chong suddenly let out a cold laugh. He abruptly threw a piece of black cloth over Qixiu, blocking his vision, then shouted wildly, "Everyone, come quickly! He’s the scholar with the thousand-tael bounty!"

Peng Chong’s sudden outcry drew every eye in the hall. "The thousand-tael scholar?" "Ha, I just accepted the task and ran into the target. Heaven must want me to strike it rich!" "Nonsense! Why should it be yours?" "Right, whoever catches him gets the reward."

At the mention of a thousand taels, many eyes blazed red, eager to move forward. Yet most remained calm, watching from their spots.

The black cloth was swiftly ripped away by someone nearby, revealing to the crowd a burly man, his face dark as pitch, broad-shouldered and barrel-chested, resembling an old bear brought to life. He picked his nose and spoke with a thick accent, "What are you all doing?"

At once, those feeling tricked turned their cold gaze on Peng Chong, making his skin crawl and sweat pour down his back. "How...how is this possible..." Peng Chong stared, disbelief flooding his eyes at the ugly, robust man. A miraculous transformation?

Qixiu, who had changed his appearance with a hundred-faced mask, cast a cool glance at the stunned Peng Chong and wordlessly stepped aside. A clever fellow, trying to play dirty with me.

With his scheme backfiring and the crowd’s displeasure boiling, Peng Chong’s face turned ashen, cold sweat beading on his forehead as he trembled slightly. He stole a glance at the black-faced man standing in the corner, clenched his fists, gritted his teeth, and quickly left the Red Blossom Pavilion.

Outside, the Ghost Market was bustling, laughter echoing all around. Anxious, Peng Chong scanned his surroundings, glancing nervously over his shoulder. He always felt someone was watching him, cold and malicious, as if a knife pressed to his back, ready to become a true blade and pierce him at any moment. But whenever he looked, nothing seemed amiss.

Sweat pooled on his face, dripping from his chin, one drop after another.

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Unconsciously, Peng Chong had wandered through nearly the entire Ghost Market, yet the gaze that clung to him like a parasite never faded. He stopped, breathing heavily, and glanced at the market’s center—a massive yellow sand hourglass.

That marked the market's opening hours. When the sand ran out, the Ghost Market would close, and all guests aboard the treasure ship had to disembark. Fighting was forbidden within the market—a rule written in bold