Chapter 15: Young People Are Easily Fooled

Feng Xue followed the two into the main hall, where the eerie aura had vanished, though the white snake trembled slightly—this place likely had a powerful patron.

Feng Xue glanced at the ancestral tablet beside the eternal lamp, bowed slightly with solemn respect; he wouldn’t bow to just any ancestral master, but courtesy was due.

The two acted as if they hadn’t noticed Feng Xue’s gesture, leading him straight to a table where guests usually discussed matters and gestured for him to sit.

As Feng Xue sat, the junior disciple stood awkwardly to one side, while the senior disciple smoothly turned, picked up the teapot resting on the stove, and poured tea for Feng Xue, casually saying:

“Where might you be employed, sir?”

“My family has a bit of wealth, and I’ve nothing pressing to do, so I’ve been traveling. But I’ve encountered several strange things on the road, so I’m looking to learn some occult arts—not anything advanced, just enough to avoid danger.” As he spoke, Feng Xue reached for the teacup, subtly letting his sleeve slip down a little, revealing the expensive gold watch on his wrist.

The senior disciple, whose pocket held a pocket watch, his eyes lit up instantly, though he said:

“Sir, you’ve clearly traveled far—you must be tired. Why not stay for a simple meal?”

“Then I won’t refuse your kindness.” Feng Xue set down the teacup, barely touched to his lips, nodded slightly, and watched as the two slowly withdrew from the main hall.

Once they were a short distance away, Feng Xue pulled out a pair of earbuds, slipped them on, and as gears turned, a faint smile curled his lips.

…

“Are you insane? Selling them the cultivation technique—what if the Master finds out…?”

“Ah~” The junior disciple had barely stepped out of the hall when he began whispering complaints, but before he finished, the senior disciple clapped a hand over his mouth—

“The Master won’t be back for three days. If you don’t tell and I don’t tell, how will he know? This young master clearly has money—more than Old Man Qin. He doesn’t want secret transmissions, just basic teachings. What’s wrong with teaching him? Don’t you want to buy him some foreign lipstick to win Little Fang’s favor?”

The junior disciple seemed swayed, hesitating slightly, then said:

“Then… how much should we charge?”

“Hmm…” The senior disciple paused, hesitated, then said awkwardly, “I never thought about it. What do you think’s fair?”

The junior disciple held up three fingers, then, thinking it too little, added two more, thrusting his hand forward as if summoning courage—

“Five… five hundred cash?”

“Is that all you’ve got?” The senior disciple glared at his junior, then said, “Old Man Qin paid a full tael just to have the Master inspect a burial site! And that was for a site he’d already picked—he only wanted to know if it was suitable! Even basic techniques are a livelihood. How could it be less than this?” He held up one finger.

“One tael? Isn’t that too much?” The junior disciple hesitated. The senior disciple rolled his eyes.

“You’re dreaming! If you want that much, go buy a house! I said one tael!” He slapped the junior’s head, then muttered under his breath, “But we sell it—we don’t give him the original. Let him copy it here. If he doesn’t understand something, we explain it. Once he’s done copying, we’re paid in full. By the time the Master returns, he’ll be long gone. How easy is this money?”

“It’s easy—but if we get caught, we’ll get beaten!”

The junior muttered, then shrank his head as the senior snapped, “What did you say?” The two hurried to the kitchen to prepare lunch.

Feng Xue, wearing his “bug,” nodded in satisfaction but left the noisy device active, continuing to eavesdrop.

Though called a bug, it wasn’t some high-end spy gadget from a thriller—it was a ten-cent toy sold outside elementary schools, nothing more than a sound amplifier.

Of course, his version was slightly better—costing a hundred or so cash—but the effect was excellent. The only flaw? It was noisy in the ears.

But since his safety was at stake, a little noise was worth it. Feng Xue knew the trade-off well.

As the brothers steamed the rice, their banter gave way to footsteps.

Feng Xue removed the earbuds, tucked them into his pocket, and held the teacup without drinking. When the brothers returned, he set the cup down again, but their stiff, nervous demeanor made him sigh.

Though young men had low boundaries and were easy to persuade, this reluctance to speak up was frustrating. After a sigh, he finally spoke directly:

Although the young man had low standards and was easy to persuade, this reluctant demeanor was frustrating; after sighing, he finally spoke directly:

Caught out, the two were embarrassed, but the senior gritted his teeth and said:

“Sir, we’ve agreed—we’ll sell you the technique, but we can’t give you the original. You must copy it yourself. Not because we’re lazy, but if you copy it wrong, trouble follows. Copying it yourself is safer. If you have questions, you can ask us—but only for two days. If you accept, we’ll sell it.”

Feng Xue frowned slightly, watching their tense expressions, then nodded with understanding.

“Alright. How much do you want?”

“This much!” The senior held up one finger, not naming the amount—he didn’t know the true value. Feng Xue knew their bottom line was one tael, but he said:

“This much!” The senior brother held up one finger, not stating the actual number, for he didn’t know how much the item could sell for; Feng Xue knew their bottom line was one guan, yet he still said:

Seeing the junior nearly cover his mouth, Feng Xue smiled inwardly, but without hesitation pulled out a wallet that looked expensive but wasn’t, withdrew ten one-tael paper bills, and under the brothers’ wide-eyed, gold-lit stares, slipped nine back, leaving only one on the table—

“This is the deposit. Pay three more when you finish copying. Pay the rest once you’ve learned it. How’s that?”

“Perfect! Perfect!”

The junior nodded eagerly. The senior kicked him hard, then smiled and nodded.

“Sir, this is perfectly reasonable. Lunch won’t be ready for a while—I’ll go get the technique now…”

“Not yet.” Feng Xue smiled, adopting a grand gesture. “Since we’ve agreed to this deal, you two are half my instructors. Today’s lunch is on me.”

Hearing there was free food, the brothers had no reason to refuse. They recalled how the Master always had clients treat him to a meal, so they accepted. The junior turned off the stove; the senior wandered twice around the side hall, doing something unknown, and then the three left the mortuary together.

Feng Xue’s invitation wasn’t just for character immersion—it was also a safety measure. Though the brothers’ conversation seemed normal, who knew if the food was safe? Poison that killed or shortened lifespan he didn’t fear—but sedatives or madness-inducing drugs? That would be trouble. Better to eliminate suspicion outright.

Besides, a well-dressed wealthy guest dining with the two brothers in a major restaurant in town was also a kind of protection. Feng Xue knew he had no connections here—but others didn’t.

Regarding the novel’s outline: those familiar with me know I’m only the ghostwriter; the plot is decided by the Dice Mother. This book is no different.

I wrote the modules; the Dice Mother chooses the path. For example, at Dr. Lan’s place, there’s a route to learn techniques; at the mortuary, there’s the Master’s path—if the Master is present, you can’t learn, so you go to the witch. The witch has routes to accept or reject you; then there are heterodox paths. Different routes lead to different outcomes. But since the tone differs from the previous two novels, I won’t explicitly state where these paths lie.

Simply put, the protagonist’s starting profession has four options: “Chu Ma Xian (Specialist),” “Shu Shi (or Mage, most comprehensive),” “Wu Xi (greatest rewards),” and “Pang Men (most heretical).” If all four fail (unlucky), there’s still the straightforward path of the Demon Gate’s Furnace Vessel (laugh). Surprisingly, he passed on the second roll—luck on his side.

In short, the protagonist’s initial professions are four: “Chu Ma Xian (Specialist),” “Shu Shi (or Mage, most comprehensive),” “Wu Xi (greatest harvest),” and “Pang Men (most sinister).” If all four fail (unlucky bastard), there’s still the broad path of the Demon Gate’s Furnace Vessel (laugh). But he passed on the second roll—consider himself lucky.

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(End of Chapter)