Inside the Eight-Direction Dining Hall.

Apart from Zhang Chenlin, who left at once by cloud, everyone else followed Miss Mei back to this place. In truth the numbers hadn’t changed much — most people hadn’t entered the estate to begin with, and only a few dozen had died in all. But the atmosphere was worlds apart. Far less lively than before.

Shen Yi found a corner and sat down as usual, only now with Chen Zhong and Aqing added to his side. Merely holding a teacup, he drew countless gazes from the shadows.

Earlier, with Perfected Master Qingfeng present, the youth had naturally been the focus of all attention. But now that the other had gone upstairs, among those remaining, the figure who’d come out leading a company of Mixed Origin powerhouses couldn’t help arousing no small curiosity. The man had come by cloud, and the aura he’d revealed, though Mixed Origin, stopped only at entry-level. What exactly had happened inside the estate, to make nearly every surviving Grandmaster treat him with such respect, even calling him Senior? They said he’d shielded everyone’s lives from three demon kings — could it be he’d slain them all? That was too terrifying by far.

The place where Shen Yi sat was plainly a corner, but under the cultivators’ postures it was as good as turned into a “seat of honor.”

Listening to the discussion beside him, the black-mole man rolled his eyes, suddenly poured a cup of fine wine, and then carried it toward the corner.

“Ah, Senior… I’m…”

He respectfully held out the wine cup, but before he could finish, Chen Zhong rose to bar him and reminded him in a low voice, “Don’t get too close.”

Senior Shen was gravely wounded; caution that ought to be kept, had to be kept.

“Oh, oh! I know the rules!”

The black-mole man gave an awkward laugh and hurriedly stepped back two paces, raising the cup in a toast, then draining it in one go.

“This junior is Ma Guangshan. I’m no good at crossing hands with people; I just like to collect rare and curious treasures. Should Senior ever have something to look for, you’ve only to say.”

As his words fell, another voice suddenly came from the side.

“Senior, this man only likes to collect, but his eye is terrible, and he’s just been swindled — he’s trying to unload his trash-treasure everywhere. Don’t be taken in by his honeyed words.”

As the saying goes, to cut off a man’s wealth is to slay his parents. Such rule-breaking rarely happened inside the Eight-Direction Dining Hall.

The black-mole man turned to glare, only to find the speaker was likewise a Mixed Origin Grandmaster, his cultivation far above his own besides, glaring right back without the slightest fear. That man gave a cold snort, then smiled respectfully at Shen Yi. All of them had had their lives saved by the young man — how could they stand by and watch him get cheated?

“Thanks for the reminder.”

Shen Yi nodded in reply, then lifted his eyes toward Ma Guangshan beside him. He actually had some impression of this man. Earlier Qinghua had gone especially to watch the scene of his being mocked.

“Sit.”

Shen Yi gestured. He now carried the great fortune of several storage pouches on him; if there really were something good, he wouldn’t mind a look. As for being cheated… each craft has its specialist. He glanced sidelong at Aqing.

“Alright.”

Aqing hurriedly sat up straight, rubbing her eyes in passing.

Seeing this posture, Ma Guangshan’s heart tightened at once. Traveling abroad with an appraiser in tow — what manner of background did a young master have to have, to do a thing like that? But things having been said this far, to leave now would be to confirm the swindler’s name outright. He gave a bitter smile and took out his storage pouch, then shook it toward the table. “Forgive me, Senior — I did once have no few fine things, treasures included that passed through my hands. Now I’m truly in some straits. I wouldn’t dare deceive you; this is the only thing left. If you take a fancy to it, just name any price.”

A jade box tumbled from the pouch. Ma Guangshan carefully lifted its lid, revealing an utterly unremarkable purple stone, roughly thumb-sized. He opened his mouth, about to explain.

But Aqing waved a hand, studied it earnestly for a moment, then turned and said softly, “Upper-grade spiritual root, True-Yang Kirin Stone. A pity it’s already been polluted by killing-force — there are traces of an attempted purge, but it failed. The seal on it is the work of the Huang family of Shuangxi Mountain.”

With each sentence she finished, Ma Guangshan’s mouth opened a fraction wider. Even Chen Zhong went blank.

“Is it worth much?” This was all Shen Yi cared about.

“Not worth much.” Aqing shook her head decisively.

At this, Ma Guangshan grew so anxious he nearly stamped his feet. “However widely traveled and experienced you are, you can’t beat down the price like this!”

“Fine, it’s worth a little.” Aqing’s expression didn’t change.

“Just tell the truth.” Shen Yi looked over and said blandly.

He needed too, too many things; no sense leaving a poor name for the sake of this trifle, when who knew whether someone nearby’s storage pouch might hold the very treasure he wanted. Not taking a loss, but not grabbing a bargain either. Only by leaving such an impression would others be willing to come lay their cards before him.

“Oh.” Aqing nodded as though half-understanding, then said, “Actually the value of a treasure like this is hard to judge. After all, it isn’t a peerless-grade spiritual root that’s birthed consciousness — it’s only been polluted by turbid matter, and there’s still a chance of purging it.”

“He probably just wanted to gamble on whether the Huang family could purge the killing-force off it. And lost the bet.”

Hearing this, Ma Guangshan looked as though struck in the chest, and heaved a hard sigh. “It’s true, I don’t know any more formidable power. So long as you’re willing to trade with me — a mid-grade spiritual root, any kind at all will do.”

The difference in value between an upper-grade spiritual root and a mid-grade was no mere tenfold — it seemed he really had been driven to the wall.

“Add the robe on him, and the pendant at his neck, and that comes to about the right price… Only, if Big Brother Shen has no corresponding connections, I wouldn’t advise trading with him.”

Aqing scrutinized the black-mole man earnestly, then turned her head to look at Shen Yi. “This time it’s the truth.”

Ma Guangshan’s face shifted and shifted again. He gritted his teeth and immediately set to stripping off his clothes, until he’d peeled himself down to a single white undershirt, then briskly tore the pendant off and slapped it onto the table. A Mixed Origin Grandmaster, reducing himself to such a sorry state before so many people. The others all bit back their laughter. “…”

Shen Yi glanced at the jade box, reached into his storage treasure, and took out the Dragon-Flame Jade Fungus to hand over.

“My thanks for Senior’s life-saving grace!”

Ma Guangshan took it into his palms with trembling hands, then was scalded skin-split by it, and, grimacing and hissing, stuffed it into his storage treasure. He was just making ready to leave when he heard a bland voice come from behind him.

“Take the clothes. Count it as my lending them to you. We’ll settle up next time.”

At this, Ma Guangshan’s whole body stalled. Then he turned, gathered the clothes into his hands, and nodded hard, his voice fainter by a shade but carrying more true feeling. “My thanks, Senior.”

Seeing this scene, the others blanked for a moment.

A killing-force-polluted upper-grade spiritual root — it did indeed fetch that price, but no one actually wanted it, a dish of dregs one sold at heartbreak yet couldn’t unload. The ink-robed young man had not only bought it, hadn’t even bothered to beat down the price, but had arranged to settle “next time”?

True, there was a peerless-eyed appraiser at his side. But in a place this orderless, a fair trade was itself an exceedingly rare thing. In an instant, no small number of people grew restless with anticipation.

(End of Chapter 275)