Chapter 65: Blocking the Path

Meng Dayong and Meng Yifan were both Mountain Hunters; naturally, they did not understand antiques, nor did they need to curry favor with scholarly officials, so they had never come into contact with antiques before.

Meng Yifan suddenly walked toward the stall selling antiques; Meng Dayong was somewhat puzzled, but he did not ask much and followed along.

Meng Yifan pressed his right hand against the hilt of the Ghost Head Blade, carefully sensing the vibrations of the ghost head, while his left hand searched the antique stall.

At this moment, that Ghost Head Blade hilt suddenly became very clever; it seemed capable of sensing that Meng Yifan was looking for treasures for it, so it cooperated with Meng Yifan's movements.

If the artifact Meng Yifan's left hand touched was not what it wanted, it would remain still, letting Meng Yifan move on to touch the next item.

The stall owner was a thin, middle-aged man who exuded a musty, earthy smell. Seeing Meng Yifan touching this and poking that without buying anything, he said impatiently, "If you're going to buy, then buy; if you're not, don't touch things randomly. If you break something, you can't afford to pay for it."

"You're selling antiques, yet you won't let a customer handle them—how am I supposed to determine which one is genuine and which is a fake?" Meng Yifan asked.

The stall owner cast a disdainful look at Meng Yifan; distinguishing the authenticity of antiques was a very profound field of study that ordinary people simply could not master.

Even some old shopkeepers at pawnshops had times when they were fooled; for a half-grown boy like Meng Yifan to claim he knew how to distinguish genuine antiques from fakes was truly a joke.

"Go on, go on, if you aren't buying, get lost; don't delay me from doing business." The stall owner was very impatient and reached out, wanting to push Meng Yifan away.

"Swish!" Meng Yifan's left hand was like a venomous snake emerging from its hole, suddenly reaching out to pinch the stall owner's extended right hand.

"Eh!" The stall owner felt as if his right hand had been clamped by pliers; he wanted to push forward, but it was like a mayfly trying to shake a giant tree—he could not move it at all.

The stall owner circulated his True Qi, wanting to struggle, but he discovered that the youth opposite him not only had great strength but also very thick True Qi, completely crushing his own; this youth was actually a Second Grade Lower Tier Martial Artist.

The stall owner was a First Grade High-Level Martial Artist who practiced the lowest-level Yellow-grade Lower-tier Technique, so in the contest between the two, he was completely at a disadvantage.

"Pain! Pain! Young Master, I was wrong, I was wrong, please let go." A sharp pain radiated from the stall owner's wrist, and feeling as if his bones were about to be crushed, he hurriedly begged for mercy.

Meng Yifan let out a cold snort and released the stall owner's wrist. The stall owner hurriedly pulled back his right hand, looking at the dark, black finger marks on his wrist, and looked at Meng Yifan with some trepidation.

At this time, Meng Dayong stood to the side, his own True Qi also surging. The stall owner's expression was ugly; the two people opposite him were both Second Grade Martial Artists, and he truly could not afford to offend them.

"Young Master, it was my big mouth just now; please, look and pick at your leisure." The stall owner, capable of bending and stretching, lowered his head and conceded defeat.

Meng Yifan smiled and continued to rummage through the antiques. The reason he had displayed his methods just now and pinched the stall owner's wrist was not to show off his might, but to intimidate the people following them.

Meng Yifan and Meng Dayong had bought many goods at the Heishi and were lavish with their spending, attracting the attention of many. These people likely regarded them as fat sheep and had been following them, waiting for the father and son to leave the Heishi to move in and rob them.

The Heishi was a place without law, but through subtle influence, some rules had formed—for instance, fighting and looting were not allowed within the Heishi, otherwise, everyone would feel insecure and no one would come out to do business.

However, once outside the Heishi, one could rob as they pleased, relying on their own abilities; if one was robbed, they could only blame their own bad luck.

"I hope showing my strength just now will be enough to intimidate those people." As Meng Yifan picked out antiques, he used his peripheral vision to notice that some of the people following them had retreated in the face of difficulty.

But there were still some lingering nearby, which made Meng Yifan's heart skip a beat. It seemed the other side had experts after all, with the confidence to take down two Second Grade Lower Tier Martial Artists.

"It seems a fight is unavoidable later. Coming to the Heishi to buy things really offers no guarantee of safety." Meng Yifan frowned.

The antique stall owner also sensed the anomaly in the surroundings and felt some schadenfreude, but he dared not show it, fearing that these two Second Grade Martial Artists might fly into a rage and kill him first.

Meng Yifan was unhurried, using his left hand to handle the antiques on the stall one by one; to the stall owner, this looked like stalling for time.

The stall owner did not urge him, waiting to see the joke of the two men later.

Three minutes later, Meng Yifan's left hand picked up a Wuhai Xiaoqiu the size of a dragon's eye and covered in cracks; the Ghost Head Blade hilt vibrated violently, as if telling Meng Yifan that this was the item it needed.

Meng Yifan carefully examined the Wuhai Xiaoqiu in his hand, feeling that the small ball was ice-cold to the touch; it was small in appearance but heavy, weighing a full ten-plus jin, and he had no idea what material it was made of.

The surface of the small ball was covered in cracks, as if it might shatter at any moment, and there were traces left by Thunder strikes and fire burns. He did not know what was special about this small ball that made the Artifact Spirit within the Ghost Head Blade so excited, as if it couldn't wait to devour it immediately.

Now was not the time to study the small ball. Meng Yifan looked at the price tag under the ball, which was actually one hundred Silver Notes. Meng Yifan looked at the price tags of other antiques and discovered that not a single one was lower than one hundred, and there was even a Three-legged Bronze Tripod priced at one thousand Silver Notes.

That is how antique sellers are: they don't open for business for three years, but once they do, they eat for three years; as long as they can sell one item, the stall owner gets rich.

This Wuhai Xiaoqiu was definitely a treasure. Meng Yifan did not haggle, directly taking out a one-hundred Silver Note, handing it to the stall owner, and then tucking the small ball into his bosom.

Meng Yifan and Meng Dayong walked toward the outside of the Heishi. Not long after leaving the small woods, seven men in black holding weapons suddenly blocked their path.

"If you don't want to die, leave behind the Silver Notes on your person and the goods you bought, then you can get lost," said a tall, thin man in black. His voice was very hoarse, like iron scraping against ceramic, sounding extremely grating.

Meng Yifan was startled; these seven men in black were not hiding their True Qi fluctuations, and he could easily perceive that these seven people were all Second Grade Martial Artists.

Among these seven men in black, three were Second Grade Middle-tier Martial Artists, and the others were all Second Grade Lower Tier Martial Artists. They deliberately revealed their cultivation fluctuations to intimidate Meng Yifan and the other, making them obediently give up their wealth and get lost.

Meng Dayong gripped his Mountain Opening Blade nervously and looked at Meng Yifan; whether to fight to the death or give up the wealth and flee, he let Meng Yifan make the call.

Meng Dayong, as a father, was already accustomed to following Meng Yifan's decisions at critical moments.

These supplies were of great use, so Meng Yifan naturally could not yield them to these seven men in black. This matter could not end peacefully, so he would strike first to gain the advantage; if he killed a few of them first, the others would naturally lose their nerve.