45: Chapter 45: Swordplay Clash Subdues the Prodigy! Ten Low-Grade Refining Cauldrons Scavenged for Top-Grade Weapon Refining!

Liu Qingqing's gaze was fixed on the scabbard at your waist.

She didn't move forward, nor did she retreat.

You didn't rush to answer.

Your right hand released the hilt, you curled two fingers, and tapped the scabbard mouth.

"Hum—"

frostfall vibrated within the sheath.

A faint, deep blue glow spilled out from the gaps, licking the bluestone bricks of the martial arts stage.

"Your ears are quite sharp."

Liu Qingqing crossed her arms over her chest.

"There are only seven seats in the A-Zone of Wanbao Pavilion. It was clear to hear whose hands the final item fell into."

"Four thousand mid-grade spirit stones, C-Zone general seating."

"Right now, all of Yunzhou City is digging into your background."

You lowered your eyelids slightly, calculating for a few breaths.

The effect of throwing money to create momentum had arrived, saving you from having to spread the news yourself.

With a light push of your thumb, frostfall unsheathed with a clang, the blade hovering horizontally before you.

"Spar a few moves?"

Liu Qingqing glanced at the broken sword in her maid's hand.

"My sword just broke."

"There are public ones on the rack." You lifted your chin slightly, pointing to the side of the stage.

Liu Qingqing walked straight over, drew a third-tier black iron sword with a backhand motion, and tested its weight.

"You first."

You took your opening stance with frostfall.

The muscle memory from "Sword Mastery" instantly flooded your limbs and bones.

The blade slashed diagonally, cutting through the air and leaving a deep blue afterimage.

You intentionally suppressed your speed by thirty percent.

Liu Qingqing turned her body and twisted her waist, blocking horizontally with the iron sword from bottom to top.

"Clang!"

The third-tier common iron collided with the fourth-grade flying sword, sparks flying.

She flipped her wrist, and the iron sword slid along the blade of frostfall, stabbing straight toward your left ribs.

You flicked your wrist, using the spine of your sword to knock the iron sword away.

You stepped back.

You sheathed your sword.

"The sword intent is cold enough." Liu Qingqing lowered the iron sword.

"But in the third move of your opening, your shoulder exerted force before your wrist, causing the tip of the sword to lag by half a beat."

Sword Mastery granted instinct, not the foundation of someone who has been through hundreds of battles.

This slight obscurity was precisely caught by her.

"I have learned much."

You pressed your hand against the hilt.

"Miss Liu, is your sword style based on the Cold Water Art?"

Liu Qingqing's fingers tightened abruptly, and the iron sword let out a soft hum.

"You can see through that?"

"At the end of the sixth move of the Cold Water Art, your wrist rotates fifteen degrees more than the orthodox method."

"The Liu family's improved version."

This was all family secret information she had revealed in the previous simulation when she was in her thirties and chatting happily.

Liu Qingqing threw the iron sword heavily back onto the rack.

"State your name."

"Shen Ji."

"Central Market, Shens Spirit Material Shop."

"A Spirit Material Shop?" Liu Qingqing's tone rose, filled with suspicion.

"Someone who sells herbs also practices the sword?"

"Spirit stones are stepping stones; the sword is a life-saving talisman."

Liu Qingqing sneered and leaned against the sword rack.

"Who taught you that sword style just now?"

"Unorthodox methods, paid for with my life."

"Unorthodox methods can cultivate this kind of murderous aura?"

"If talent isn't enough, grind with time."

Liu Qingqing was silent for a long while.

"I've been struggling with the ninth move of the Cold Water Art lately."

"My spiritual energy stagnates when I sheath the sword; I've been stuck for two months."

Your fingertips rubbed the rough texture of the sword hilt.

"The crux isn't in sheathing the sword, but in drawing it."

"At the moment you start, spiritual energy must first pass through the Hand Taiyin Meridian before being channeled into the sword body."

"If you go through the Shaoyang Meridian first, you will inevitably suffer from spiritual energy backlash when you sheath the sword."

Liu Qingqing stared fixedly into your eyes.

"The Hand Taiyin Meridian?"

"Try it."

She turned, drew an iron sword again, and stepped into the center of the martial arts stage.

She started.

Spiritual energy flooded into the Taiyin Meridian.

Drawing the sword, thrusting, rotating, sheathing!

The movements were as smooth as flowing water, the afterimages returning to one.

The tip of the sword hovered in mid-air, perfectly still.

Liu Qingqing lowered her head, looking at the web between her thumb and index finger, which was no longer trembling.

"It's smooth."

Her voice was extremely low.

You stood quietly in place.

Liu Qingqing backhanded the iron sword toward the rack, where it landed steadily in the slot.

When she looked at you again, the scrutiny in her gaze had transformed into burning intensity.

"Does a shopkeeper of a Spirit Material Shop come to the dojo often?"

"Once every three days."

"What a coincidence. On days ending in three, six, or nine, at the Shen hour, I am always here."

She paused.

"Next time you come, I'll take you into the inner circle."

"Many thanks." You cupped your hands.

The two of you walked out of the inner court side by side.

The maid hurried over with a tray, handing over hot tea.

Liu Qingqing took a sip.

"Can your shop handle the supply source for second-tier spirit herbs?"

You paused for three seconds before speaking unhurriedly.

"It depends on what you want."

"For regular Peiyuan Grass and Spirit Gathering Vines, I can drive the price to the lowest in the city. For rare goods, it depends on the cycle."

Liu Qingqing's fingernail scraped along the rim of the celadon cup.

"Our family—"

"The Liu family's shortfall of second-tier spirit herbs has reached thirty percent this month." You interrupted.

Liu Qingqing froze.

You met her gaze.

"Wanbao Pavilion and Dingsheng Trading Firm have joined forces to lock down your supply sources; the Liu family's procurement costs have already soared by more than forty percent."

Liu Qingqing's pupils constricted slightly, and the tea in her hand rippled.

The maid was so frightened she took half a step back.

"You investigated me?"

"In business, it's the rule to figure out the bottom line of a client."

You picked up another cup of tea and finished it.

You set down the teacup.

"For second-tier Peiyuan Grass, I'll give it to you at seventy-five percent of the market price. Settle the bill at the end of the month. I will supply as much as you need."

Liu Qingqing's breathing hitched slightly.

"Seventy-five percent? Are you doing charity?"

"Setting a game."

"The Liu family's scale is large enough; I'm using your volume to break into upstream channels. You don't lose, and I earn even more."

Liu Qingqing stared at you for a full ten breaths.

"Central Market, Shens Shop?"

"Yes. Go to the shop and find Hu Wansan; you can inspect the goods at any time."

Liu Qingqing tossed the teacup to the maid.

"I will send a manager to check the site tomorrow morning."

She walked two steps, then suddenly turned back.

"Three days later, at the Shen hour. See you in the inner circle."

"See you then."

Liu Qingqing's figure disappeared into the crowd at the street corner.

You reached out and pinched the storage bag at your waist.

It was flat.

Four thousand mid-grade spirit stones were spent on the flying sword, twelve hundred in mortgage payments loomed over your head, and the seventy-five percent supply deal had squeezed your profit margins dry.

You were short on money.

You turned out of the sword cultivator dojo and entered a dark alley in the west of the city that never saw the sun all year round.

Baibao Square.

The largest black market for scattered goods in Yunzhou.

Under a canopy made of tattered cloth, hundreds of stalls were squeezed together like sardines in a can.

The air was filled with the burnt smell of inferior pills and the metallic stench of rusted artifacts.

The moment you stepped into the area, the system panel lit up suddenly.

"Business Opportunity Sniffing (Blue)" flickered frantically.

In your field of vision, a dozen faint blue lights struggled amidst the piles of miscellaneous items.

The profit was too low. Skip.

You walked straight ahead until you reached the corner on the second floor.

Your footsteps froze in place.

A deep, bone-chilling blue light pierced through from the bottom of a stall selling scrap metal.

The light almost stung your eyes.

Rusted bronze mirrors, broken-handled talisman pens, and chipped jade pendants were piled into a small hill.

At the very bottom lay a grey cloth bag stained with dried beast blood.

The bald stall owner slumped in a bamboo chair, cracking caramelized melon seeds.

You crouched down.

You pushed aside the scrap metal and grabbed the grey cloth bag.

The fabric was coarse, emitting a faint, almost imperceptible heat.

The system pop-up instantly filled the screen.

Estimated value: Extremely high! There is a serious gap between the current asking price and the actual value!

Item: Remnant Spirit-Gathering Cauldron (Top-grade Spirit Artifact · Sealed State). Originally the personal auxiliary tool of the fourth-tier Artifact Refining Grandmaster Zhurongzi, its artifact spirit is dormant, and its spiritual light is restrained. Conventional divine sense cannot penetrate it.

Your five fingers gripped the cauldron's leg tightly.

Top-grade spirit artifact.

The bald stall owner spat out a melon seed shell and eyed you askance.

"That pile of junk, eighty Low-Grade Spirit Stones for the whole lot."

You picked up the cloth bag with one hand and shook it in mid-air.

"Just this piece, how much?"

The stall owner waved his hand impatiently.

"Ten Low-Grade Spirit Stones. Take it and get lost, don't block me from taking customers."

You fished out ten Low-Grade Spirit Stones and slapped them onto the wooden table.

The knuckles of the hand holding the cloth bag protruded.

Within your palm, the sealed remnant cauldron abruptly emitted an extremely scorching pulse.