Chapter 52: Qing Ge Jushi

At a stall where two people had previously purchased items.

Wang Yu approached with curiosity, but when he saw what was laid out on the stall, his eyes lit up.

The vendor was an old man with white hair and a ruddy complexion; the stall displayed neatly arranged dozens of talismans of varying colors and sizes, and beside it stood a small banner bearing the words “Guo Family Talismans.”

“Friend, you look unfamiliar—just arrived at the marketplace? Would you like to buy a few talismans for protection?” The old man had just finished serving a customer and greeted Wang Yu warmly.

“Elder…”

“Haha, no need for ‘elder’—we’re both Qi Condensation stage. If you don’t mind, call me ‘Old Guo.’” The old man smiled amiably.

“Brother Guo, are these talismans your own handiwork? Could you tell me a bit about them?” Wang Yu asked with a smile.

“Of course they’re mine. I’m no great talent, but I’m a certified entry-grade talisman artist. My Guo Family Talismans stall has been operating in Guangyuan Marketplace for many years—my reputation speaks for itself.”

“Among these, those are Clear Wind Talismans—when activated, they summon the Clear Wind Spell to disperse mist; those green ones are Minor Revival Talismans, which release the Minor Revival Spell to gently heal external wounds.”

“As for the two best-looking blue talismans, those are my signature piece—the entry-grade Wind Blade Talisman… I won’t boast, but every Wind Blade Talisman I draw is top quality—I never sell substandard, low-grade talismans, and in the entire Guangyuan Marketplace, there are barely a handful of talisman artists who can sell entry-grade talismans.” The old man spoke with great enthusiasm.

“If you can draw entry-grade talismans, then what’s the price for these?” Wang Yu was moved, studying the old man again before asking.

In his understanding, entry-grade talismans were those capable of activating entry-grade spells.

“I’m honest with young and old alike: entry-grade Wind Blade Talismans are twelve spirit stones each, the others are four spirit stones each. If you buy ten or more at once, I’ll give you a ten percent discount.” Old Guo beamed as he quoted the price.

“So expensive? Is this one also four spirit stones?” Wang Yu silently weighed the price, then suddenly pointed to a talisman placed alone in the corner of the stall.

The pattern on this talisman resembled the Minor Revival Talismans, but its surface faintly shimmered with a pale green glow.

“This one isn’t four spirit stones—it’s fifteen. It’s the only mid-grade talisman I’ve drawn recently. Though not entry-grade, its self-healing effect and durability far surpass any other Minor Revival Talisman.” The old man shook his head repeatedly and explained.

A mid-grade talisman, not even entry-grade, sold for more than an entry-grade Wind Blade Talisman?

Wang Yu was deeply surprised, but to avoid revealing his ignorance, he nodded along with Old Guo a few times before making an excuse to leave.

When he reached another stall, he stopped again.

On this stall were various bottles and jars, emitting a strong medicinal aroma.

Two young men with similar faces were haggling with someone, eventually handing over a dozen spirit stones and a yellow spirit herb in exchange for a small vial of medicine, then leaving happily.

“We have medicines for detoxification, healing, and cultivation—custom orders and barter accepted. But I’m only an herbalist, not a pill alchemist—I can only blend ordinary medicines, not entry-grade pills.” The vendor was a woman in thick cloth robes and a wide-brimmed hat; seeing Wang Yu, a new face, she spoke in a low, hoarse voice.

“Is there a big difference between ordinary medicines and pills?” Wang Yu couldn’t help asking.

“Of course. Entry-grade medicines are mostly pills—only pill alchemists can refine them. Herbalists can only blend ordinary medicines.” The woman replied briefly.

“I see. Have you heard of Heshasan? Can you blend it?” Wang Yu nodded thoughtfully, then asked casually.

“Yes. One vial of Heshasan is five spirit stones.” The woman replied coldly.

“You can really blend it?” Wang Yu was startled.

“Heshasan is a medicinal remedy that neutralizes poison from sha energy. The raw materials vary depending on the type of sha energy being neutralized, but blending it isn’t difficult—what’s there not to blend?” The woman explained briefly, then fell silent.

“If you can blend Heshasan, do you have any sha energy for sale? Any type will do.” Wang Yu suppressed his excitement and asked hopefully.

“Sha energy is extremely rare—I don’t have any. Even if I did, it would usually only appear at major shops or auctions.” The woman replied indifferently.

“Thank you for the guidance. If I need medicine in the future, I’ll come to you.” Wang Yu mentally noted the words “auction,” bowed slightly, and left.

Next, he visited several other stalls with heavy foot traffic, but most sold talismans or medicines. Then, when he saw a stall surrounded by seven or eight people, he instinctively moved closer.

But before he could reach it, a furious shout erupted from within the crowd.

“What are you pushing for? You don’t even have spirit stones—why crowd so close?”

A powerful aura suddenly erupted from the center of the stall, forcibly pushing back the surrounding crowd.

Only then did Wang Yu see that the stall held only a single half-broken pale red long whip.

“True entry-grade artifact—Red Fire Whip! Capable of summoning a fire serpent’s shadow. Though damaged, it still retains over half its original power?” Behind the stall stood a man in leather armor, of average build but radiating a fierce aura, his back bearing a bronze long halberd, his voice booming like thunder.

As he spoke, he seized the half-whip in hand, flicked his wrist—and flames surged along the whip, coiling into a faint red serpent’s shadow that flickered unpredictably with each swing.

“It’s truly an entry-grade artifact.”

“Even broken, it could be a family heirloom—why would anyone sell it?”

“You don’t know anything. This man is the famed ‘Qing Ge Jushi’—he cultivates a metal-affinity technique and already owns an entry-grade artifact, ‘Jin Li Ge.’ This Red Fire Whip is both broken and incompatible with his affinity, so he’s selling it to acquire other cultivation resources.”

“A second entry-grade artifact normally sells for four to five hundred spirit stones—how much cheaper could this broken one be?”

…

The surrounding cultivators murmured among themselves, all staring at the whip in the man’s hand with longing.

“I’ll say it again: Broken Red Fire Whip, three hundred spirit stones, or exchange for late-stage Qi Condensation cultivation resources. I have other business—only here for one incense stick’s time. If no one buys it by then, I’ll hand it straight to Baizhen Pavilion.” Qing Ge Jushi swung the whip again, then growled impatiently.

Wang Yu sucked in a breath at the price, but upon hearing the name “Baizhen Pavilion,” his interest stirred again.

“Brother Qing Ge, this whip is only half its length—shouldn’t the price be halved? One hundred fifty spirit stones, and I’ll take it.” Someone in the crowd called out.

“Hmph. One hundred fifty? Baizhen Pavilion wouldn’t pay even that. Not selling. Not selling…” The man shook his head repeatedly.

“I offer one piece of liuli crystal, plus one hundred spirit stones.”

“Three Qingmu Pills, plus one hundred twenty spirit stones.”

…

Several in the crowd did make offers, but none satisfied Qing Ge Jushi. Finally, he cursed at the crowd, “All of you are broke!” and without even packing up his stall, he walked off with the red whip.

The surrounding crowd stared at the giant’s back in silence, then dispersed.

Entry-grade artifact!

Four to five hundred spirit stones!

Even broken, it sold for three hundred.

But how much would an ordinary artifact fetch?

Wang Yu followed the crowd away, but his mind churned with thoughts—he immediately thought of the silver hammer artifact he had just acquired.

It was very likely also an entry-grade artifact.

He forced himself to suppress the urge to pull it out, and continued wandering the square.

Soon, Wang Yu stopped before a stall displaying seven or eight books and bamboo slips, but after flipping through them, he silently shook his head.