Chapter 511: Chang'an Ghost Market

December 12th.

The cold night was like ink soaked in ice, but the Ghost Market was just in the midst of its bustle.

The residual snow condensed into frost in the cracks of the bluestone slabs, making a crunching sound when stepped on, mixed with the sounds of hawking, metal collisions, and a faint scent of fireworks, spreading in the night.

Yuwen Ang was dressed in a moon-white brocade robe, covered with a dark sable fur cloak, with a jade belt at his waist and a white jade hairpin obliquely inserted at his temples. He was every bit a pampered and wealthy young master, only his eyes hid a touch of sharpness that was not easy to detect.

Beside him followed a He Ping, dressed in gray cloth, his face so ordinary that he couldn't be found if thrown into a crowd.

Only a pair of eyes were as calm as a pool, following Yuwen Ang silently, saying little and looking little.

In the Ghost Market, stalls were lined up, selling antiques, old tools, strange small objects, and even some forbidden items that could not see the light.

Figures moved back and forth, voices lowered, revealing a touch of mystery.

Yuwen Ang walked calmly, looking straight ahead, passing through the bustling crowd, and walked straight toward a corner where the fireworks were most prosperous.

That was a blacksmith shop. The shop front was not large, and a broken sheep-horn lamp hung in front of the door. Under the dim light, one could see some scrap iron and wood charcoal piled in the corner.

The air was filled with a strong smell of iron and charcoal fire.

Inside the shop door, a short and fat middle-aged man was squatting by the furnace adding charcoal, the firelight reflecting his face red.

This person was the shop owner, Blacksmith Fei.

He caught sight of Yuwen Ang's figure. That brocade robe and extraordinary bearing were exceptionally eye-catching in the Ghost Market. He immediately brightened his eyes, and the wrinkles on his face instantly squeezed into a blooming chrysanthemum. He hurriedly threw down the fire tongs, patted the charcoal ash on his hands, and walked up in two or three steps: "Young Master Wen, you are here?"

"You came quite early today!"

Yuwen Ang stopped, carrying one hand behind his back, and the other hand gently pulled the sable fur collar, his expression indifferent: "Blacksmith Fei, where are the things this young master wants?"

Blacksmith Fei rubbed his thick palms, and the smile on his face became even stronger: "Young Master, don't worry! The ten sets of iron armor you wanted, and the ten sets of matching weapons, the little one finished them all yesterday!"

Immediately, he made a respectful gesture of invitation, palms upward, bowing slightly: "They were all made according to your requirements. The armor plates are thin and tough, and the weapons are sharp and peerless, absolutely not sloppy!"

"Please move inside! Please come inside! The little one will take you to inspect them!"

The light inside the shop was darker than outside, with only a few oil lamps hanging from the beams swaying.

Under the dim light, the cold light of the ironware and the red light of the charcoal fire intertwined, pulling the surrounding shadows long and short.

Blacksmith Fei led the way with a bowed body, walking lightly around the wooden shelves piled with iron materials, passing through a low wooden door, and behind it was actually a spacious inner room.

The walls were nailed with dense iron hooks, and ten sets of iron armor were hung neatly. The dark black armor plates were layered, and the edges were polished smooth and neat, shimmering with a deep luster under the dim light.

Each set of iron armor was equipped with a weapon, the long sabers straight and sharp, with a biting chill.

Yuwen Ang walked forward slowly, his gaze sweeping over the lined-up armor and weapons, a flash of approval in his eyes.

His fingertips touched the breastplate of a set of iron armor, the cold touch spreading along his fingertips. He bent his knuckles and tapped the armor plate lightly.

The "du-du" sound was crisp and steady, without half a hollow or floating feeling.

After testing three sets in a row, the sound was the same. Only then did Yuwen Ang nod with satisfaction, a hook of a shallow smile at the corners of his lips, and said to Blacksmith Fei: "Not bad! Your craftsmanship, Blacksmith Fei, is as good as ever."

This made Blacksmith Fei beam with joy, the wrinkles on his face all smoothed out. He hurriedly bowed and replied: "Young Master, you flatter me!"

"To catch your eye is this humble one's good fortune; naturally, I will polish it with all my might!"

Yuwen Ang didn't commit himself, his gaze turned to the long saber on the side, and he reached out to grasp the hilt and pulled it lightly.

With a "qiang-lang" sound, the sharp blade came out of the sheath, and a cold light appeared.

The blade was thin and sharp, and one could see the fine lines on it against the dim light. Turning his wrist lightly, the blade drew an arc, bringing up a slight wind sound, crisp and steady.

He Ping walked forward holding a rosewood box. The box surface was carved with simple cloud patterns, looking heavy.

Yuwen Ang took the wooden box, pressed the box buckle with his thumb and flicked it lightly. With a "ka-da" sound, the box opened in response, and ten silver ingots were neatly arranged inside.

Immediately, he raised his hand and handed the wooden box to Blacksmith Fei: "This is the reward."

Blacksmith Fei's eyes stared straight. He hurriedly took the wooden box with both hands. His fingertips touched the cold and heavy silver ingots, and the smile on his face could not be dissolved.

He couldn't wait to pick up a silver ingot and bite it hard toward his mouth. The tooth marks were clearly visible. After confirming that it was correct, he was even more overjoyed, holding the wooden box and bowing repeatedly: "Thank you, Young Master Wen! Thank you, Young Master Wen!"

Yuwen Ang withdrew his gaze, still playing with the long saber in his hand, and ordered: "Still send the iron armor and weapons to the old place outside the city."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Blacksmith Fei nodded hurriedly, fearing he would be half a beat slow. "The little one remembers! Later tonight, the little one will send them to you!"

"I will definitely not delay the Young Master's business!"

Yuwen Ang put the long saber back into the sheath, looked up at the smiling Blacksmith Fei, tapped the hilt of the saber lightly with his fingertips, and said calmly: "Still the old rules."

Before the words fell, he reached into his bosom, fumbled inside the lapel of his moon-white brocade robe, and took out a heavy silver ingot.

The silver ingot was about the size of a fist, shimmering with a delicate luster under the dim oil light. He raised his wrist slightly, and the silver ingot flew toward Blacksmith Fei with a slight sound of breaking the air, saying: "This is the deposit for the next batch!"

Blacksmith Fei was quick-eyed and fast-handed, hurriedly stretched out his arms to catch it. It was cold and heavy in his hand, and he knew it was full of weight just by weighing it. The smile on his face instantly exploded, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes squeezed into gullies. He hurriedly tucked the silver ingot into his bosom, cupped his hands and bowed: "Okay!"

"The work you ordered, the little one will keep it well-made, polished even more finely than this time, and will definitely make you unable to pick out half a flaw when you inspect it!" He patted his chest righteously, his tone full of fawning and certainty.

Fearing that being half a beat slow would make this wealthy old customer unhappy.

Yuwen Ang waved his hand indifferently, didn't say anything more, and turned to walk toward the outside: "Gone."

Seeing this, He Ping immediately followed quickly, following Yuwen Ang step by step.

Blacksmith Fei held the rosewood box full of silver ingots, bowing and sending them off diligently all the way, his mouth constantly muttering "Young Master, walk slowly" and "Everything goes smoothly."

Until the two walked out of the threshold of the blacksmith shop, he still stood at the door, looking at Yuwen Ang's back, the smile on his face not decreasing at all, bowing and saluting repeatedly: "Young Master Wen, walk slowly!"

At this time, outside the blacksmith shop, on the second floor of the inconspicuous pavilion diagonally opposite.

Two window lattices were quietly pushed open a crack, just enough to see the situation at the shop door clearly.

Cui Yizong was dressed in a green shirt, his fingertips pressed tightly against the window frame, his gaze locked firmly on Yuwen Ang who was walking away slowly, and he said to the person beside him in a low voice: "Young Master, it's this person!"

In the words, it was full of certainty.

When Yuwen Ang came to the Ghost Market for the first time to purchase iron armor and weapons, he had already targeted him...

Beside him, Gao Changjing was dressed in a brocade blue long shirt, playing with a plain folding fan in his hand, leaning forward slightly, looking at Yuwen Ang below through the window crack, a flash of playfulness in his eyes, a hook of a meaningful arc at the corners of his mouth, and he said slowly: "He is that Yuwen Ang who was demoted to a commoner!"

He paused and added with a light laugh: "It's quite interesting!"

The light in the pavilion was dim, making the expression in his eyes increasingly profound.

The folding fan in his hand tapped his palm lightly, as if thinking about something.

The bustle of the Ghost Market was still surging in the cold night, and the residual snow was stepped on increasingly fragmented by the pedestrians coming and going, mixed with charcoal ash and various breaths permeating the air.

Yuwen Ang led He Ping, walking slowly among the stalls, his gaze sweeping over those antiques, old tools, and strange small objects seemingly casually, but in fact, the corner of his eyes had already taken in all the movements around him.

He Ping followed closely behind throughout, his gray-clothed figure as low-key as a shadow.

The two walked past the small stall selling charms, bypassed the peddler playing with old weapons, and stopped for a while in front of a stall displaying exotic gemstones.

Yuwen Ang picked up a stone shimmering with blue light and looked at it, then put it down as if nothing had happened.

After strolling for about half a stick of incense, Yuwen Ang raised his hand to pull the sable fur collar, feeling the cold wind getting stronger, and finally said lightly: "Let's go! We should return to the mansion..."

"Yes." He Ping replied in a low voice.

The two had just turned around and walked toward the exit of the Ghost Market when they hadn't walked a few steps, a steady sound of footsteps suddenly came from the front.

Four figures wearing ferocious iron masks walked out from behind the stalls on both sides, blocking the way in a fan shape. The iron masks covered most of their faces, only revealing the lines of their jaws.

Gao Changjing stepped forward, his voice coming through the iron mask, carrying a touch of dull but clear penetration: "This young master, please stay!"

Yuwen Ang's steps paused, his expression unmoved, his gaze sweeping slowly over the four people in front of him, and finally landing on Gao Changjing, the leader.

He arched his brows slightly, his tone carrying a touch of deliberately feigned indifference: "Who are you? Do we know each other? What's the matter?"

Gao Changjing didn't answer directly, but leaned forward slightly, his tone unhurried, carrying a touch of inquiry: "May I ask, Young Master, what is your intention in buying these iron armor and weapons?"

As soon as these words came out, the casualness in Yuwen Ang's eyes instantly faded, replaced by extreme vigilance.

His aura tightened suddenly, his hand under the brocade robe clenched quietly, his gaze as sharp as a knife, piercing straight at Gao Changjing: "None of your business!"

His voice suddenly raised, carrying a touch of deliberately revealed rudeness and impatience, both as a retort and a probe: "Old man's silver, old man is happy to spend it how he wants, it's old man's business!"

"Don't block the way! Get out of the way!"

Before the words fell, he turned slightly to the side, posing a posture of forcing his way through.

The Ghost Market in the cold night seemed to have been pressed the mute button, leaving only the sound of the wind rolling the residual snow wailing and circling in his ears.

Gao Changjing wore a ferocious iron mask, his figure motionless, like a rock blocking the road.

He opened his mouth slowly, his voice coming through the iron mask, carrying a touch of mockery and certainty, word by word like a heavy hammer knocking on people's hearts: "Young Master, you spent a lot of money to find a blacksmith to buy these things, wouldn't it be used for rebellion?"

Yuwen Ang's pupils shrank abruptly. Immediately, his face deliberately showed the panic and annoyance of being hit in the heart, the veins on his temples jumping slightly, and he scolded sharply in rebuttal: "Fart!"

"This young master bought them to arm the clansmen and go to join the army to serve the country!"

He deliberately raised his volume, his tone excited, as if he were eager to prove his innocence after being slandered.

Hearing this, Gao Changjing's mouth behind the iron mask hooked a sneer, laughed lightly, carrying undisguised mockery: "Prince Qiao, do you believe this yourself?"

The two words "Prince Qiao" were like a sharp blade, instantly piercing the disguise.

Yuwen Ang's face changed suddenly. The annoyance he had deliberately revealed instantly turned into extreme panic, his eyes full of unbelievable surprise, as if he were panicked and at a loss because his identity was exposed in public. He took half a step back and questioned sharply: "What Prince Qiao?! What are you talking about!"

Immediately, he raised his voice violently, his tone carrying a touch of fierce anger: "Who are you people! How dare you talk nonsense here and slander this young master's identity!"

Gao Changjing was still motionless, his gaze behind the iron mask was calm and waveless, his voice slowed down, fading the previous playfulness, and he said lightly: "People who can help Your Highness."

He paused and continued: "There are too many people here, I ask Your Highness to move..."

"Let's find a quiet place to sit down and talk, shall we?"

Hearing this, Yuwen Ang almost didn't have any hesitation, and decisively refused: "No! This young master cherishes his life!"

The panic in his eyes had long faded by more than half, replaced by a touch of arrogance and vigilance, and then he curled his lips, his tone full of mockery: "God knows if you people who hide your heads and show your tails, and don't even dare to show your faces, have any evil intentions!"

Gao Changjing was still calm, his voice coming through the iron mask, carrying a touch of certainty: "Don't worry, I am here to cooperate with Your Highness, so how could I do anything to Your Highness?"

Before the words fell, the subject changed abruptly, his tone carrying undisguised sharpness, every word piercing the heart: "Moreover, what does Your Highness have now that is worth me doing anything to you?"

——

PS: Wanfeng has been typing too hard on the keyboard these few days, and the tenosynovitis has flared up. It hurts so much. I just went to get a few needles, and the doctor told me not to type on the keyboard for a long time. I have to go get a few more needles tomorrow. I'll take a leave for these two days, but I'll try my best to ensure 4,000 updates. I'll resume normal updates the day after tomorrow and continue to add more updates fiercely! I hope all the big bosses will forgive me! ===== CHAPTER 512 =====