A Fateful Encounter in Shanshi

"This is Shanshi," came the voice of Qin Yunshang from behind her mask. "Remember, here only trade matters—personal identities are irrelevant."

I slowly scanned my surroundings, and everywhere I looked lay rare treasures and exquisite curiosities. In front of one stall, a vendor wearing a monkey mask displayed rows of spirit stones shimmering with vibrant colors; at another booth, a towering figure in a tiger mask and a short cultivator donning a cyan snake mask were arguing heatedly over an ancient, unadorned sword; yet none was as arresting as the slender figure behind a white fox mask, whose stall brimmed with meticulously arranged vials and containers emanating the enticing aroma of alchemical pills, drawing a captivated crowd.

Su Li was already entranced by the dazzling display before her, bounding excitedly as she longed to explore every stall filled with wonders. I gently tugged at her sleeve, "Don't run off—stay close to me."

Qin Yunshang murmured, "Let's first check out the pill vendor's stall and get a feel for the market."

We pushed our way through the bustling crowd until we reached the pill stall. A crisp, melodious voice from behind a white fox mask announced, "Huayu Dan—one medium-grade pill for one lower-grade spirit stone; for the superior ones, two lower-grade spirit stones. Juqi Dan starts at three lower-grade spirit stones per pill…"

As I listened to the prices, I quietly calculated the value of the pills I had with me. At these rates, the pills I brought today could fetch at least twenty lower-grade spirit stones—more than enough to purchase a good number of rare medicinal herbs.

"This pill vendor is no ordinary seller," Qin Yunshang whispered. "I've heard her pills are of exceptional quality—she's a top disciple from Guicang Peak."

Just then, a burly figure wearing a black wolf mask squeezed in beside us and bellowed in a rough voice, "White Fox Fairy, same as usual—I'll have ten Juqi Dans."

A light laugh came from behind the white fox mask: "Brother Black Wolf, are you about to retreat into seclusion again?" With practiced ease, she produced a small porcelain vial, "Thirty lower-grade spirit stones—one stone not a penny less."

The man in the black wolf mask cheerfully pulled out a money pouch and emptied out a cascade of gleaming spirit stones. After the deal was done, he turned to leave—but inadvertently bumped into my shoulder.

"Watch where you're going!" he growled, his tone laced with irritation.

I sidestepped coolly, and then I heard him lower his voice suddenly, "Hey, little friend with the Qingyu mask, is this your first time in Shanshi? Got something good to sell?"

I was taken aback—he had immediately deduced that I was new here. Before I could answer, he continued on his own, "I'm at the third stall on the west side; if you're interested, come have a word." With that, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

"Ignore him," Qin Yunshang cautioned as she tugged my sleeve. "That's the 'Black Market Wolf'—he buys mysterious treasures. His prices may seem fair, but they're riddled with hidden traps."

I nodded and resumed my careful observation of the transactions around me. The people in Shanshi were a mixed lot—some carried an air of distinction, clearly high disciples of major sects; others skulking about, seemingly on the lookout for something specific; and still others stood quietly in the corners, scrutinizing every deal.

After circling around for a while, I had a good grasp of the market in Shanshi. Just as I was about to find a suitable spot to set up my own stall, I noticed a slight figure wearing a Qingchan mask at a nearby booth, displaying a few familiar medicinal herbs—the very rare herbs listed on my inventory!

"Let's go take a look over there," I said, pointing at the stall, and the three of us hurried over.

The stall owner behind the Qingchan mask spoke in a high, sharp tone, "Wan Nian Xuelian, Jiu Jie Lingzhi, Ziyang Cao… all are top-grade medicinal herbs offered at fair prices."

I scrutinized the herbs closely; they indeed appeared in excellent condition—exactly what I needed. In particular, the Ziyang Cao caught my eye with its thick, robust root and vibrant green leaves, indicating potent medicinal properties.

"How much for the Ziyang Cao?" I inquired.

"Ten medium-grade spirit stones," came the voice from behind the Qingchan mask, tinged with a hint of arrogance.

That price was indeed steep; it seemed unlikely that my pills would be enough for a full trade. As I hesitated, Su Li gently tugged at my sleeve, her whisper nearly brushing my ear, "Sister Lingwei, there's something off about that Ziyang Cao."

I paused in surprise and took a closer look. Sure enough, subtle dark marks marred the base of the Ziyang Cao—marks that would have gone unnoticed without careful scrutiny. It had been deliberately broken and reattached! While this trick might temporarily preserve the herb's appearance, its potency was severely compromised; if used in pill-making, its effect would be at least halved.

"Three lower-grade spirit stones," I stated calmly, "its base has been broken—its medicinal effect diminished."

A soft sound of surprise came from behind the Qingchan mask, clearly not expecting me to catch on. After a brief silence, he reluctantly said, "Eight lower-grade spirit stones."

"Four stones—and no more," I insisted.

The man behind the Qingchan mask grew somewhat irate, raising his voice, "Do you know how rare this Ziyang Cao is? Even with a slight flaw at the root, it's worth six stones!"

I turned to leave, "Goodbye."

"Wait!" he called after me. "Five stones—deal!"

I nodded, producing five medium-grade Huayu Dan, "No spirit stones—let's trade these instead."

The vendor behind the Qingchan mask took the pills, examined them carefully, and nodded, "Deal."

After the transaction, I carefully stowed away the Ziyang Cao. Just as I was about to leave, I noticed a tall figure wearing a gold mask had, at some point, positioned himself beside the stall, his gaze coldly fixed on the vendor in the Qingchan mask.

"For selling counterfeit herbs, by the rules you should be expelled from Shanshi," the gold-masked man declared in a deep, authoritative tone. "But since this is your first offense, a fine of ten medium-grade spirit stones will suffice—and you are banned from the market for three months."

The vendor behind the Qingchan mask was suddenly thrown into a panic, repeatedly kowtowing and begging, "Please, sir, have mercy—I was merely momentarily confused… I beg the elder for forgiveness!"

The gold-masked man snorted dismissively and said no more, merely gesturing with his hand. Reluctantly, the Qingchan vendor produced a money pouch and handed it over with both hands. Taking the pouch, the gold-masked man turned and departed.

"It seems the rules in Shanshi are even stricter than I imagined," I murmured to Qin Yunshang.

"The man in the gold mask is one of Shanshi's stewards," Qin Yunshang explained. "They maintain order and enforce the rules. No one knows their true identities, though it's rumored they're from Mingjing Peak."

The Qingchan-masked vendor began to pack up his stall, casting a resentful, venomous glance in my direction. A chill ran down my spine—it was clear he would bear a grudge against me. In the anonymity of Shanshi this might not matter, but should he recognize me, trouble could follow in the future.

"Let's keep browsing; we need to gather all the herbs on our list," I suggested, tightening my grip on the sword scabbard at my waist.

Su Li tugged at my sleeve and pointed into the distance, "Sister Lingwei, there's someone selling ancient texts over there!" she exclaimed excitedly, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

We weaved through the throng until we reached a stall. The vendor, donning an owl mask, had arranged about a dozen timeworn books on display; some with tattered covers, yet each still emanating a subtle surge of inner energy.

"Anything special here?" I asked softly, though my attention was immediately captured by one particular volume—a brown-covered ancient book whose cover bore the four timeworn characters "Tai Gong's Strange Tales."

"Is this… a book about Taigong?" My heart skipped a beat; this was precisely the clue I had been searching for.

"You have a good eye," came a husky voice from behind the owl mask. "This book records many legends about Taigong, replete with strange and wondrous tales. Twenty medium-grade spirit stones—fair to all."

The price was steep—far beyond the value of the pills I carried. I hesitated for a moment before asking, "Might I take a look?"

The man behind the owl mask shook his head, "Sorry, that's the rule."

As I was about to turn away, the owl-masked vendor suddenly said, "However… if you're interested, I could arrange an exchange."

"An exchange for what?"

"Your cyan sword scabbard," he said, nodding toward my waist with a hint of greed in his voice. "It's clearly a fine piece—with a timeless, ancient charm and a storied history."

I instinctively gripped my scabbard tighter and replied in a low voice, "This item is not for sale."

Seeing my firm stance, the owl-masked man sighed, "What a pity, what a pity. Very well, then."

As he turned away, Su Li whispered, "Sister Lingwei, how did he know the true value of your scabbard?"

A chill ran through me—truly, an ordinary person shouldn't be able to discern the extraordinary nature of that scabbard at a glance. I glanced back, noticing that the owl-masked man had already shifted his conversation to another customer, seemingly no longer paying attention to me.

"Caution is paramount," Qin Yunshang murmured. "Shanshi is teeming with experts; some can spot a treasure's true worth in a single glance."

I nodded, my senses heightened as I continued to survey my surroundings. After wandering a bit more and purchasing several more herbs—nearly completing the list—I was about to depart when a tall figure suddenly blocked my path. It was none other than the man in the black wolf mask we had encountered earlier.

"Little friend, you certainly do have something valuable," the voice behind the black wolf mask carried a playful lilt. "That owl's discerning eye never errs—if he's taken an interest in your scabbard, it must be extraordinary."

"None of your business," I replied coldly as I tried to bypass him.

But the man in the black wolf mask wouldn't budge. "Hold on, I have something here that might be of use to you," he said, producing a small embroidered pouch from his sleeve. "For instance, some news concerning Elder Lan's injury…"

My heart skipped a beat—this was exactly what I was concerned about. Yet I quickly composed myself and asked calmly, "What makes you say that?"

"In Shanshi, information flows like water—everything has a price," the man in the black wolf mask said with a knowing tone. "If you're interested, do come by my stall for a chat."

"Don't go; this man is not to be trusted," Qin Yunshang warned as she grasped my arm firmly.

I nodded slightly, yet inside I had already made up my mind. Following the man in the black wolf mask through several stalls, we reached a secluded corner. His stall was modest, displaying only a few inconspicuous talismans and charms—a mere front, it was clear.

"Speak then—what do you know?" I said bluntly.

"You are indeed direct, little friend," the man in the black wolf mask chuckled softly. "Not many know about Elder Lan's situation, but rumors say he was severely injured in an ambush by demonic cultivators on Ziyang Mountain."

"I already know those details—what's the news?"

"What's interesting," he lowered his voice further, "is that Elder Lan originally went to Xuanshui Gorge to collect herbs—so why is he seen on Ziyang Mountain? Moreover, Ziyang Mountain borders Jiuyou Valley, a place long neglected; why would he venture there alone?"

I felt a stirring within me, "You mean… someone deliberately lured him there?"

The man in the black wolf mask nodded, "Smart. I've also heard that someone within the sect was secretly investigating this matter—but then was suddenly confined…"

"Sister Moqing!" I almost blurted out, but quickly restrained myself. "What is the price for this information?" I asked calmly.

"No spirit stones," the man in the black wolf mask said with a meaningful glance, "just tell me—why are you so interested in this matter?"

"Pure curiosity," I replied warily.

"Curiosity can sometimes be deadly, so be cautious," the man in the black wolf mask chuckled before his tone turned grave. "The atmosphere within the sect has been strangely tense lately, and with Taigong's fishing season approaching, many matters are not as simple as they appear."

"Taigong's fishing!" My heart skipped once more, as the words once mentioned by a man in a black robe echoed in my mind: Taigong's silken thread was about to be cast again, heralding a great change in the world.

"Do you know about Taigong's silken thread?" I ventured to ask.

"You know too much, little friend," the man in the black wolf mask said sharply. After a pause, he continued, "Taigong is fishing—only those willing will take the bait. Those who seize this opportunity may well ascend to immortality, or perhaps…"

He left his sentence hanging, but the weight of his words sent a jolt of alarm through me.

"I'm leaving," I announced as I stood up.

"Hold on," the man in the black wolf mask interjected, producing a small porcelain bottle from his cloak. "Consider this a gift—an omen of our meeting today."

I hesitated to reach for it, and he placed the bottle on the table. "This is a 'Lingxi Dan'—it can alleviate injuries to one's primordial spirit. If that 'friend' of yours who's been confined ever needs it, it might come in handy."

I was startled—this man knew far too much. After a brief hesitation, I took the bottle.

"Thank you," I said tersely. "May I ask what your name is?"

"In Shanshi, names are meaningless—only trade matters," the man in the black wolf mask replied with a mysterious smile. "Until we meet again, little friend with the Qingyu mask."

Leaving the stall of the black wolf mask, my mind swirled with thoughts. The news he mentioned largely matched what I knew, yet his cryptic remark "Taigong's fishing—only those willing take the bait" carried a deep significance. This trip to Shanshi had yielded far more than I had anticipated.

On our way back, Su Li curiously asked, "Sister Lingwei, what did that man in the black wolf mask say to you?"

"Nothing worth mentioning," I replied nonchalantly, though inside I had already formulated a plan—I must soon meet with Sister Moqing to learn more about Elder Lan's injury, and simultaneously continue my search for the secrets behind Taigong's silken thread.

A gentle mountain breeze brushed past as the calm visage behind my mask belied the boiling turmoil within. The truth, I sensed, was far more complex than I had imagined—and I had unwittingly stepped into a vast, intricate web.

As we neared the sect, Qin Yunshang prudently reminded us to remove our masks.