Chapter 117: Chapter 108: New Mystic, Cultivating Again, Probing Feng Bei

"Alright, you can go now."

Zheng Xiu shooed Qing Shisan away.

Qing Shisan was dumbfounded. ’Master, you whistled for me to come all the way here just to help you take a look?’

As expected.

After Qing Shisan left sullenly, Zheng Xiu nodded to himself. Just then, a small Engraving Knife caught his eye. As he was about to reach for the little knife, he suddenly remembered something and asked, "Say, about your rules... can the Divination be targeted at a specific person? What I mean is, could you let me... pick and choose a bit?"

"What kind of choice did you have in mind, Master Zheng?" Sun Erming’s brow twitched upon hearing this. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

"I have a relative named Zheng Shan, who is a Painter. I want the condition for the second payment to be related to him."

"Are you close to him?"

Sun Erming asked.

"Very familiar."

Zheng Xiu nodded.

"In that case, yes."

Sun Erming was relieved to hear this. He had been worried that Zheng Xiu might make some excessive demands.

’This isn’t too outrageous.’

"I want this one." Zheng Xiu pointed to the small knife that had caught his fancy.

Sun Erming frowned. "This knife belonged to a famous Sculptor thirty years ago. Are you sure?"

’A Sculptor?’

Zheng Xiu pondered for a moment, then decided to trust his gut. In any case, this body of his didn’t need to do any fighting, so he made his decision. "This is the one."

Sun Erming took a deep breath, picked up the Sculptor’s Engraving Knife, and placed it in Zheng Xiu’s hand.

Zheng Xiu opened his palm, and Sun Erming pressed the small knife into it.

Just then...

Sun Erming and Zheng Xiu were now in indirect contact through the small sculptor’s knife.

Instantly, both of their expressions changed.

A line of text suddenly appeared before Zheng Xiu’s eyes.

[You have discovered a new Post Station. You can reach "Post Station · Knife Seller · Yisi · Sun Erming".]

[You do not have permission to enter the Post Station.]

[You cannot stay at this Post Station.]

Meanwhile, a look of shock spread across Sun Erming’s face.

An image appeared in his mind.

In the vision, a handsome, imposing man released a Flying Saber, his face filled with sorrow. The Flying Saber pierced through the space between someone’s eyebrows.

Sun Erming tried to get a clearer look, but he couldn’t make out the person "slain by Zheng Xiu’s Flying Saber"—not whether they were man or woman, beautiful or ugly.

The threads of the Celestial Dao and mortal fate, hopelessly entangled, formed a hazy image in Sun Erming’s mind.

The vision vanished in a flash.

A moment later, a complex look appeared in the eyes of the Knife Seller, Sun Erming.

But since Zheng Xiu claimed it was about a relative, Sun Erming was less guarded with his words. How could he have known that the relative Zheng Xiu spoke of was himself?

Sun Erming, abiding by the rules, slowly began to speak:

"One hundred taels of silver, no more, no less. When Zheng Shan kills his closest friend with his own hands, I will come personally to collect the payment for the knife."

With mixed feelings, Sun Erming left the Zheng Family estate.

Some say they heard him muttering to himself as he walked out the door, though no one could make out the words.

Zheng Xiu toyed with the new Sculptor’s Engraving Knife. A small character, "Dai," was engraved on the hilt. A red cord was threaded through a small hole at the pommel, giving it a certain antique charm.

’Getting this knife for a hundred taels was an absolute steal.’

’Even if I don’t use it as a knife, it could pass for an antique.’

Fiddling with the small engraving knife, Zheng Xiu thought back on Sun Erming’s "prophecy".

’Kill my closest friend? Who do I even have that could be considered a close friend right now?’

Before he left, Zheng Xiu had wanted Sun Erming to explain in more detail.

But Sun Erming had stubbornly refused to elaborate. He said those were the rules of a Knife Seller: one prophecy, one sentence at a time. To say more would be a violation.

"He’s really something else."

The words came from Qing Shisan.

Qing Shisan, who was supposed to have left the building, now emerged from behind a screen, smoking a pipe.

Zheng Xiu had smelled Qing Shisan’s pipe smoke for a while and knew the man was hiding, but he hadn’t called him out.

Seeing Qing Pi emerge, Zheng Xiu didn’t reprimand him, but instead asked, "What do you think?"

"I underestimated him," Qing Shisan said, frowning thoughtfully. "I always thought Knife Sellers were just in the business of Divination Sales—using general knowledge to spin tales of past and present, putting on an air of mystery. But his Divination just now... it was too specific. It’s not something you could just invent on the spot from a name you’ve never heard."

Zheng Xiu nodded. "I was thinking the same thing." Then, Zheng Xiu smiled and glanced at Qing Shisan. "What if he’s a... Mystic?"

CLATTER.

Qing Shisan’s treasured pipe fell to the ground. He stood there, mouth agape, utterly dumbfounded.

"Heh, I’m just guessing," Zheng Xiu laughed. "Mystics aren’t like girls in a brothel; they’re not so easy to find. There can’t be that many of them. Still... have one of our brothers keep an eye on him."

Qing Shisan immediately perked up. With a wicked grin, he made a throat-slitting gesture. "Master, are you thinking...?"

"Bullshit! That’s what you’re thinking!" Zheng Xiu scolded, exasperated. "Do I look like some kind of monster to you? I mean have our men watch him to make sure nothing happens to him. And more importantly, to make sure he doesn’t make contact with anyone he shouldn’t."

Now Qing Shisan finally got it.

’No wonder the Master forced the kid to sign an indenture contract.’

’He’s taken an interest in him.’

’As expected of a Master on the [Merchant] path.’

’Forcing people into indenture contracts seems to be second nature to him.’

Qing Shisan was thoroughly impressed. He blew a whistle, dispatching his men to take care of it.

As night fell, Zheng Xiu was about to head to the dungeon to switch to another ’account’ when a thought struck him: the dungeon’s soundproofing was a double-edged sword. He had someone summon Yan Jiji to install a temporary bell at the entrance to the main house, with a wire running down into the dungeon. That way, if anyone came looking for him, they could simply pull the bell, and Zheng Xiu would hear it from below.

By the time the "doorbell" was installed, it was dinnertime. Zheng Xiu had intended to ask the old craftsman, Yan Jiji, to stay for a meal, but Yan Jiji said he had a few other jobs to get to and had to work through the night. Zheng Xiu could only walk Yan Jiji to the door personally, where the two said their goodbyes.