novelapdf Chapter 64 Ghost Market
Chapter 64 Ghost Market
Su Tang stretched out her arms and gestured for a while, "I want a three-foot-seven-inch sword, with a narrow spine and a thin blade, and it needs to be sharp."
Song Quyou took the long sword from his waist and drew it. "Uncle Tie, another sword with a similar design will suffice, but it doesn't need a guard."
The masked old man stared at the azure longsword in Song Quyou's hand, his fiery eyes bulging instantly.
"Kid, throw this old man your sword over here and let him have a look."
Without much thought, Song Quyou did as he was told and threw the sword over.
The azure longsword returned to its sheath, twirled half a circle in the air, and landed steadily in the palm of the masked old man.
Tie Bo placed the sword across his lap, slowly drew it, his withered fingers tracing the blade from the hilt to the tip, and muttered to himself:
"A blade of azure blue, its name forged by the heavens."
"No mistake, no mistake, it's this sword. I never thought I'd see it before I was alive, but hundreds of years after my death."
He remained silent for a long time, so long that even the small hammer on the anvil, which no one was swinging, stopped, and only the crackling of the furnace fire remained in the shop.
"Does Tiebo recognize this sword?" Song Quyou asked.
Tie Bo did not answer, his brows furrowed as he stared at the long sword in his hand, muttering to himself as if in a frenzy:
"wrong!
wrong!
This is not that sword!
no……"
After a long period of madness, Tie Bo finally resigned himself to his fate and sighed heavily.
"There are very few people in the world who recognize this sword, and unfortunately, I am one of them."
"Uncle Tie, could you please tell me about the origin of that sword?"
Tie Bo became interested and examined the longsword, recalling:
"That sword has a long history; I've only read about its origins in my sect's 'Military Manual'."
That sword, named Azure Sky, was entirely azure in color. Legend has it that it was forged from celestial gold, a material from heaven, and was once wielded by a green-robed immortal to vanquish evil spirits, slay false Buddhas and immortals, and quell injustice throughout the land.
Tie Bo sheathed his longsword and sighed heavily: "Although this sword resembles the legendary immortal sword, it must be a later imitation. It has the form but not the spirit."
No wonder, if it were truly a divine sword, how could it have been tarnished on a boy like you?
The masked old man held the long sword horizontally in his hand, looked at it again and again, and then reluctantly tossed it back to Song Quyou.
"Fine, leave a ten-year deposit, and come back in seven days to collect the two swords."
Su Tang asked, "Uncle Tie, could you use other spiritual items to offset the cost?"
The masked old man looked at Su Tang, flames flickering in his eye sockets, his expression unreadable.
"Little girl, this is a blacksmith's shop. I won't accept your herbs and spiritual fruits anymore."
"Senior..." Su Tang pursed her lips, wanting to say something more conciliatory.
But then the small hammer on the anvil suddenly struck hard, sending out huge sparks.
"No! No! I already had the spirit herb you brought last time, but it's now stuck in my hands. This time, I absolutely refuse."
Song Quyou took out a small packet of amber-colored pills from his pocket, containing more than sixty pills. He took out ten pills and tossed them to Tie Bo.
"Thank you for your trouble, Tiebo. We will come to collect the sword in seven days."
Su Tang narrowed her eyes, turned to look at Song Quyou, and scrutinized him, saying, "Tell me honestly, where did you get your longevity pills?"
After bowing to Tie Bo, Song Quyou pulled Su Tang away from the shop, explaining as they walked.
……
"You mean after you came down from Shenxiao Temple, you also went to a similar ghost market on the way?"
"It's not exactly a ghost market, it should be called a demon market. There are shops run by the underworld there, and that's where my junior brother obtained the longevity pill."
After hearing the explanation, Su Tang didn't say anything more. She just looked Song Quyou up and down with her gentle eyes, as if she were re-evaluating someone she had just met.
"What's wrong, Senior Sister? Is there something on Junior Brother's face?"
"Do you know the value of those ten longevity pills?"
Song Quyou shook his head and said, "Junior brother doesn't know."
"In the mortal world, if you want to make a trade, as long as the other party wants to live and has wealth, you can trade any amount of gold and silver."
After saying this, Su Tang's expression suddenly hardened, and she lowered her voice to say:
"Don't mention this matter again."
Song Quyou was slightly taken aback and followed her gaze.
Behind him, under the dim light of a blue paper lamp, a pale-faced scholar selling books and paintings stared at him with lifeless, white eyes and no pupils, his gaze chillingly fixed on him.
His lips split to his ears, revealing a mouthful of fine, rice-grain-sized, white, jagged teeth.
Waiting for Song to leave and go far away.
The pale-faced scholar slowly withdrew his gaze, his pale, mottled fingers tracing across the stall in front of him. An unopened scroll flew out instantly and stuck to Song Quyou's waist.
Su Tang reacted extremely quickly, her fingers wrapped with lightning, and slapped the scroll behind Song Quyou.
But before the lightning could touch the scroll, a corner of it unfolded on its own.
In a short while.
A subtle fragrance wafted through the streets, and red plum blossoms seemed to float out of a painting, overwhelming Su Tang, whose fingers were wrapped in lightning.
Upon seeing this, Song Quyou cried out:
"wind!"
A strong wind suddenly arose, causing Su Tang's clothes to flutter and the red plum blossoms to swirl backwards. The vendors on both sides who had come to watch the spectacle scrambled onto their stalls, fearing that their goods would be blown away.
Taking advantage of the fact that the red plum blossoms were being suppressed, Song Quyou hurriedly reached out, wanting to take the scroll from his waist.
Unexpectedly, from the scroll that had been partially opened, a delicate hand reached out and tightly grasped Song Quyou's palm.
That hand was cold and delicate, its five fingers gripping Song Quyou's wrist. The grip wasn't strong, but it made it difficult for Song Quyou to break free.
Su Tang conjured lightning in her palm, and as she pushed her hand forward, a striking lightning snake struck the delicate hand.
But then the red plum blossoms rose again, causing the lightning serpent to vanish without a trace, disappearing instantly.
Song Quyou tried to pull his hand outwards, repeatedly tugging at it.
The scroll, which had only partially opened, suddenly unfolded completely.
In an instant, the entire street was filled with the intoxicating fragrance of flowers, and red plum blossoms fell like rain.
A woman in a crimson dress, amidst a shower of flowers, moved gracefully and proudly, and followed Song Quyou's hand to come before him.
Before Song Quyou could react, the woman in the crimson dress was already right in front of him. The two, one human and one ghost, stared at each other, so close that he could smell the cold fragrance of plum blossoms emanating from her.
The woman's hair was styled in a high bun, with an unopened red plum blossom tucked behind her ear, and a touch of red makeup on her brow.
Her face was extremely beautiful, almost unreal, and her exposed neck was so white it was almost transparent, with faint blue veins visible beneath the skin.
Her misty eyes were filled with tears, and she glared at Song Quyou with a reproachful look, as if she were looking at a sworn enemy who owed her money.
But Song Quyou was not one to show mercy to women; this ghost's origins were unknown, and he didn't know whether it was good or bad.
Regardless of how hard she tries to conceal it, the murderous aura she exudes cannot be eliminated, which is why people are worried.
Song Quyou's sword-like eyebrows furrowed, his eyes sharp. His left hand was already reaching for the golden needle hidden in his belt, ready to pierce the woman's skull at the slightest movement. (The golden needle was left behind by the old man with the long back during his Taoist practice.)
The woman in the crimson skirt was completely unafraid of Song Quyou's murderous gaze; her misty eyes quietly met his.
Silence reigned all around.
A beam of blue light emerged from Song Quyou's heart, and the blue jade pendant engraved with evil spirits floated out.
The woman in the crimson skirt was taken inside without any resistance.
The jade pendant took the woman in the crimson dress, its blue light receding, and returned to Song Quyou's hand without any additional ghostly markings.
At this moment, the scholar ran over, and in a deliberately affected tone and at an extremely slow pace, said regretfully:
"Oh dear! You two have ruined my painting. How am I supposed to sell it now?"
Song Quyou wasn't going to tolerate him. He drew his sword from its sheath, silencing the maggot-infested mouth of the man.
The Ghost Scholar stared at the sharp longsword before him, his mouth, which had split open to his ears, slowly closed. His pale eyes rolled around, and a hint of shrewdness, typical of a businessman, shone through his dead eyes.
"According to the rules of the Ghost Market, buying and selling are voluntary. Since you took my painting, you should pay for it."
Su Tang stepped forward slowly, her fingers still shrouded in lingering lightning within her sleeve: "You just abruptly pasted the painting onto my junior brother without cause; it was clearly an attempt to force him to buy it."
"Forced sale?"
The scholar's mouth widened further, revealing a mouthful of sharp teeth like grains of rice.
"Very well, I will not force you to sell. Please return the painting to me as is."
Song Quyou frowned as he looked at the blank scroll hanging behind him.
A flash of lightning appeared in Su Tang's eyes as she stared at the blue-faced scholar, her voice turning cold: "Now that the person in your painting has been taken, the painting itself is blank. How can I return it to you as it is?"
The ghostly scholar's pale eyes darted around, and he stretched out his withered, mottled hand, beckoning with his finger, saying, "Then I'll give you the Longevity Pill."
Upon hearing this, the lightning in Su Tang's sleeve intensified, but Song Quyou stopped her with a hand.
"How much?" Song Quyou stared at the green-faced scholar, his tone calm.
The ghostly scholar stretched out five fingers, the pale tips almost poking Song Quyou's nose: "Fifty years of life."
"Why don't you just rob it?" Su Tang laughed out of anger.
"A broken painting, even if it were complete, would only last for six months at most. Now that the person in the painting is gone, it's just an empty painting, yet you dare to ask for a price of fifty years."
When the ghost scholar was yelled at, his already wide mouth stretched even wider.
"If you don't give it to me, then we'll meet in the Underworld."
Then we'll see whether you two living people suffer, or this ghost enjoys the good life.
"I'll give you a year's worth of longevity pills," Song Quyou said coldly.
"No, the fifty-year longevity elixir cannot be missed even for a single day."
Song Quyou stared at the blue-faced scholar, and pushed the green sword in his hand forward, pressing it against the scholar's throat.
"I wouldn't mind killing a ghost in the ghost market."
The ghost scholar's Adam's apple bobbed slightly, and he fearlessly took half a step forward, allowing the green blade to pierce his bluish-brown, mottled throat, from which steaming black blood flowed out.
But he said defiantly, "If you have the guts, then kill me."
Song Quyou's eyes were sharp, and he was about to thrust his sword forward to pierce the ghost's throat.
Su Tang's expression changed drastically. She grabbed Song Quyou's arm and whispered:
Don't fall for his provocation.
"If we kill this ghost, both of our souls will be taken to the underworld for trial. Even if we are not blamed and are released without punishment, our cultivation will still be diminished."
Suddenly, a rough sound came from behind.
"Hey! That stinking painting seller, he has no scholarly demeanor whatsoever. No wonder you failed the imperial examinations repeatedly in your life, and now you can only sell books and paintings after you die."
The voice was hoarse; it belonged to Tie Bo, who was leaning against the doorway.
That shout completely shattered the arrogance of the Ghost Scholar.
Tie Bo leaned against the doorframe, his fiery eyes beneath the bronze mask staring at the scholar, and sneered:
"Trying to extort fifty years of someone's life with a tattered painting, you're even less capable than you were in life."
Blood was still trickling from the pale-faced scholar's throat, but he dared not take another step forward, only saying stiffly:
"Uncle Tie, this is a business deal between me and these two gentlemen. Why do you need to..."
"Get lost."
With a wave of his hand, Tie Bo sent the small, unattended hammer flying from the anvil. The reddish hammerhead struck the scholar three inches in front of his feet, cracking the bluestone slab in a spiderweb pattern.
"If you keep babbling, I'll accompany you to the underworld."
"Then we'll see whether the judge believes you, a pedantic scholar who cheated on the imperial examinations and was expelled, or me, an old man who's been forging iron for centuries."
The ghostly scholar fell silent, took a step back, and extended a hand, saying, "A one-year longevity pill."
Song Quyou sneered, "Putting everything else aside, I won't give you a single day's worth of longevity pills right now."
After speaking, Song Quyou turned and left, the scroll still hanging from his waist, not caring what the ghostly scholar behind him might think.
Tie Bo snorted, and the small hammer flew back into the shop, landing steadily on the anvil.
Su Tang then bowed to Tie Bo from behind and said, "Thank you for helping me out, Tie Bo."
Tie Bo waved his hand and returned to the shop, where the clanging sound of blacksmithing came from the half-closed door.
The ghost scholar wanted to continue his pursuit, but the sound of hammering behind him grew louder, and a few wavy white teeth peeked out from the corner of his mouth, so he had no choice but to give up.
The farce ended, and the vendors on both sides started hawking their wares again. However, the ghostly faces under the yellow paper lanterns looked at the two of them with much clearer eyes, no longer coveting their lives.
……
The two arrived at the entrance and stepped into the mist they had come from.
After walking a few steps, the mountain path reappeared beneath my feet, the shouts behind me grew fainter and fainter, and the round moon overhead, now in the west, had transformed into a warm, comforting sun.
In the desolate mountains.
Song Quyou opened the blank scroll in his hand, and the faint scent of plum blossoms lingered on the paper.
"This tattered painting actually wants to live for fifty years."
As she spoke, Su Tang reached out and pulled the scroll over, examining it carefully for a moment. Her brows furrowed deeper and deeper, and she said with concern:
"Can your jade pendant subdue the spirit in the painting and prevent her from escaping?"
Song Quyou took out the blue jade pendant from his bosom, examined it in his palm, and said, "Don't worry, Senior Sister, this jade pendant is specifically for capturing evil spirits. It once helped Junior Brother get rid of a Yin Buddha."
……
Back at my lodgings, I heard bursts of cursing coming from the courtyard.
Song Quyou sighed softly, quickly pushed open the courtyard gate, and there was Heitan, who had returned, arguing with Shan Gao.
"You fat pig, get out of here! This is my house!"
"Your face is covered in dust. This is my taciturn family's house. You're the one who should get out."
……
But the more they curse, the dirtier it gets.
Song Quyou sighed helplessly:
"ban!"
The cat and the pig both fell silent.
The heated verbal battle has turned into a silent war of words.
Cats fly and pigs leap, their fur flying like snow.
But Song Quyou and Su Tang quickly subdued him, tied him up with ropes, and threw him into a corner to continue thrashing about.
……
Suddenly, the sound of horses neighing came from outside the door.
"Whoa..."
A man in rough clothes rushed in and bowed to Su Tang, saying:
"Young Miss, the Monkey Mountain in the south of the city has been purchased, but the monks of the Lunzhuan Temple say that subduing demons is the duty of monks. The chief monk of Lunzhuan Temple, leading a group of martial monks, has already headed to the Monkey Mountain, saying that he is going to get rid of the monkey demon."
Song Quyou and Su Tang were both shocked upon hearing this.
Although Lunzhuan Temple had other purposes, at this moment it was fighting for the greater good of eliminating demons.
This is indeed a difficult situation. After all, those monkeys have driven away the villagers and already angered the public. Even if they return the mountain goods later, it may not be enough to quell their anger.
……