Chapter 377

At dawn, in the western suburbs of Chang'an.

Liuhe Cart Antiques Market.

This was one of Chang'an's largest antiques markets, existing even before the founding of the nation, but too far from the city center to attract tourists, gradually becoming a hub where dealers from all over gathered to source goods.

"This is Chang'an's black market?"

Standing at the entrance of the antiques market, Zhang Fan couldn't help muttering to himself.

Across the country, in cities of third- or fourth-tier and above, there were places where cultivators traded—what was known as the black market.

Almost everything cultivators needed—major herbs, rare treasures, exotic items, artifacts, and all manner of heavenly materials—could be found in the black market.

The more prosperous the city, the higher the black market's rank.

Xi'an was a new first-tier city, so its black market was naturally first-tier as well.

Zhang Fan had been to the black market in Bai Yujing; his black iron fragment had been picked up there.

But Bai Yujing's black market was extremely secretive, hidden inside an abandoned building in a village within the city, surrounded by illusions to conceal it—ordinary people never noticed it on ordinary days. It would never be as brazen as Chang'an's, openly operating right inside an antiques market, welcoming customers in broad daylight.

"Since we're here, we might as well take a look," Li Li Yishan slung an arm around Zhang Fan's shoulders.

They planned to leave Chang'an and return to Bai Yujing in the next couple of days.

Now, for once, they had free time—no grudges, no battles—so they might as well enjoy themselves.

"You're not new to black markets, are you? Bai Yujing has one too," Meng Qi looked at Zhang Fan.

"Uh… yeah, I've been," Zhang Fan nodded but said no more.

Last year, while hunting the Tiger of Yin Mountain, Hongshan Jun, he caused a riot in the black market, drawing the attention of authorities—Bai Yujing's black market was shut down outright. Rumor had it hundreds were arrested, and it had yet to reopen.

As a result, cultivators in Bai Yujing now had to travel as far as Suzhou for supplies, or even farther to Shanghai.

Take Shi Shi Shougong—he needed a pair of 【Big Brain Silkworms】 and 【Small Brain Silkworms】 each month for his cultivation. Previously, only Bai Yujing's black market had special channels for them. Now that supply was cut, buying through Jiangnan Province's Dao Alliance's official channels would raise his monthly cost from over forty thousand to over seventy thousand.

"How could Bai Yujing compare to Chang'an?" Li Li Yishan glanced at Zhang Fan with subtle meaning, speaking lightly.

China's four ancient capitals: Shangjing, Bai Yujing, Chang'an, Luoyang.

Shangjing and Bai Yujing were the only two cities in the nation with "jing" in their names—their status was obvious.

Shangjing, of course, was the national capital.

Bai Yujing was the capital of Jiangnan Province, whose economy ranked among the nation's top two. Since ancient times, Bai Yujing had been the gathering place of culture and talent, rich in resources and blessed with outstanding people.

But in terms of depth of heritage, it could not be compared to 【Chang'an】 or 【Luoyang】.

"The place with the most tombs in the world is Chang'an and Luoyang," Li Li Yishan said with a smile.

As the old saying goes: live in Suzhou or Hangzhou, be buried on Beimang.

Countless kings, princes, generals, and ministers were buried on Beimang Mountain—there were at least hundreds of thousands of tombs there.

Beimang Mountain was in Luoyang.

At this point, Li Li Yishan's smile faded slightly—he had an enemy on Beimang Mountain.

"Chang'an's number of great tombs is no less than Luoyang's."

"I heard a few years ago, while building Metro Line 8 in Chang'an, they unearthed over a thousand great tombs," Li Li Yishan said gravely.

"This wasn't metro construction—it was archaeology."

To date, over a hundred thousand tombs had been discovered in Chang'an; estimates suggest the underground holds several hundred thousand more.

"Think of all the treasures buried down there."

Li Li Yishan hit the point: precisely because of this unique history and geography, Chang'an's black market held far more valuable items than any other place.

After all, Daoist artifacts were sentient and concealed themselves.

Amid the ebb and flow of time, even if these treasures fell into the hands of emperors and generals, they might never be recognized, buried with their owners in great tombs until, one day, fate's shovel turned them back into the light.

"No wonder you're so knowledgeable, Xiao Xiao!" Meng Qi looked at Li Li Yishan with subtle meaning.

"When I was young, my Yun Ma often took me to Luoyang, to the Beimang area—I saw things there," Li Li Yishan said modestly.

"Yun Ma?" Meng Qi frowned, curious.

"His stepmother—his real mother ran off with someone when he was little," Zhang Fan whispered to Meng Qi.

"May I ask, what is your stepmother's title…?" Meng Qi's heart stirred with sudden interest.

"His stepmother is the Lord of Uncle Xuan Palace!" Zhang Fan whispered again.

"…."

Meng Qi's brow twitched, her beautiful eyes widening—this answer was unexpected yet perfectly logical.

"No wonder," Meng Qi thought to herself.

If Wu Wei Sect was a nation, a dynasty, then Li Li Yishan's family could be called a noble clan—of the caliber of the ancient Five Surnames and Seven Great Clans.

"Keep it down," Li Li Yishan said casually.

"You haven't dug up any tombs yourself, have you?" Zhang Fan turned to Li Li Yishan, unable to resist asking.

"What are you talking about? Grave-robbing is illegal," Li Li Yishan shot him a sidelong glance.

"…"

"I've done some research—you know I studied folk culture in university," Li Li Yishan explained.

The traditional belief held that the dead were sacred; afterlife matters were paramount—from common laborers to emperors and generals, all placed great importance on their tombs, which involved feng shui, affecting not only the deceased but also the rise and fall of their descendants.

Many emperors began constructing their own mausoleums immediately after ascending the throne, with construction spanning decades—this was common.

"It's open. Let's go."

At 8:30 a. m., the antiques market gates opened; it stayed open until 10 p. m.

"Last year when you broke up, I was going to drag you to Chang'an to clear your head," Li Li Yishan said as they walked.

"Breakup!?" Meng Qi's heart leapt; she turned to Zhang Fan, curiosity flashing in her eyes.

In her view, someone like Zhang Fan having a romantic partner was already surprising—yet he'd been dumped.

"Can't you just shut up?" Zhang Fan glared fiercely.

"I never thought someone like you could get dumped," Meng Qi couldn't help saying.

Zhang Fan was now at the Ninth Layer of Daoist Priest—by all logic, he should have long transcended emotional attachments. Breakup last year? And still needed company to recover?

Meng Qi found it strange just listening.

But she didn't know that at this time last year, Zhang Fan had just graduated university and was still trapped in the Great Night Unlit Tribulation, no different from an ordinary person.

"Compared to this, Bai Yujing's black market looks pitiful," Li Li Yishan couldn't help saying.

Inside the market, the view stretched endlessly—there were roughly seventy to eighty shops on either side, and this was only one alley.

There were nine such alleys in total; adding up all the stalls, there were probably five or six hundred.

Most items displayed in the shops were mere crafts—real artifacts dug from the earth would never be shown openly.

"Holy shit—is that the Four Rams Square Zun? Isn't that in the National Museum?"