Chapter 16: Magic Artifact

The marketplace was bustling, and the two men and the bird stood nervously around the corner of a stall, staring blankly at the woman’s oddly shaped “stockings.”

Xie Jinhuan had just been praising the Night Demoness, but upon seeing the erotic stockings, his expression froze; he muttered inwardly:

Does the Great Qian even have such bizarre things?

How did I never see these in the past ten years?

Isn’t this insane?

Lin Wanyi held the stockings, silent as ever, but her stunning, peony-like face had turned green.

She often moved within the inner quarters of noble households and had seen such items before—but she never imagined these were produced by the Danyang Academy.

How could a prestigious Confucian academy use such exquisite Bingpo Silk to make something designed to entice men?

Perhaps unwilling to believe it, Lin Wanyi unfolded another black fabric from her purse.

As expected, before her appeared a sheer, gauzy belly-band of the same material—triangular in shape, perfectly cradling the jade orbs while revealing the slender waist, mature and sensual…

The belly-band was embroidered with lifelike lotus flowers and carp that shimmered with five-colored hues as light shifted—strangely beautiful…

Xie Jinhuan had lived in the capital for sixteen years and had never imagined such erotic undergarments existed.

Seeing Lin Wanyi’s eyelashes tremble, her aura slowly brimming with lethal intent, he forced himself to reassure her:

“The students and masters of the Military Equipment Institute craft unusual magic artifacts—could this item have some hidden function?”

Lin Wanyi considered this—Bingpo Silk was expensive; using it for a belly-band would be wasteful. This object must conceal some secret—perhaps it truly was a “magic artifact.”

Magic artifacts are tools forged from rare materials that react to true qi; the swords of Zihui Mountain and the Eight-Directional Brightness Array of Danwang Pavilion both qualify.

Magic artifacts vary in quality, graded by the number of qi levels they can handle—a master craftsman can even forge artifacts rivaling celestial weapons, like the lost Zhenglun Sword of Zihui Mountain, which doubled the power of thunder arts and carried the effect of “subduing ghosts and binding demons,” hailed as the deadliest weapon in the Daoist tradition.

Controlling a magic artifact is simple: channel your own qi into it, and the object responds accordingly.

Thinking of this, Lin Wanyi held the garments and slightly infused them with her qi.

Instantly, the two pink lotus flowers embroidered on the fabric twisted and bloomed like buds—but since they weren’t worn, only two holes appeared where the petals should have revealed stamens…

Xie Jinhuan saw this and drew a sharp breath, thinking:

Holy mother, how do I explain this?

He’d lived two lifetimes and had never seen anything this bizarre.

As for its function, it was easy to understand—it probably made things… more convenient for men.

But if even a Dao Ancestor could use this, is it a celestial weapon?

Lin Wanyi stared blankly at the holes on the fabric. Unwilling to accept it, she tried the stockings next—and found the intricate embroidery covering the crotch also twisted, revealing…

?!

Even as an unmarried woman, Lin Wanyi understood exactly what these were for—her brows snapped upright, her gaze murderous.

Xie Jinhuan had no idea how to evaluate the local artisans and offered weak reassurance:

“The craftsmanship and materials here are truly masterful—this would sell for no less than a hundred taels on the market. Thirty taels is a steal. Why not just wear it?”

“Pfft~”

How could Lin Wanyi possibly wear something designed to please men?

If Zi Su found out, she’d scold her to death as a wanton auntie.

And if she’d bought it secretly, fine—it was pretty, she could wear it—but Xie Jinhuan was standing right there watching!

Was she supposed to wear it for Xie Jinhuan?

Lin Wanyi’s face burned crimson; she felt utterly humiliated and turned to return to the stall and demand justice.

But outside the stall, white paper bore black characters: “Sales Final, Buyer Bears All Risk”—she’d be in the wrong if she complained.

Furious, Lin Wanyi turned to Xie Jinhuan again:

“You knew what these were, didn’t you? You deliberately egged me on to buy them!”

Xie Jinhuan spread his hands. “If I had that kind of foresight, would I be begging you to brew pills? I just got lucky with a rare find—don’t act like you’re getting cheated. The whole thing’s yours. I don’t need it. No split. Let’s go do what matters.”

“….”

Lin Wanyi desperately wanted Xie Jinhuan to repay her thirty taels, but this was a luxury item—costing at least a hundred taels to make. After a long silence, she stuffed the items into her bosom and slapped a silver note onto his chest:

“Fine, I accept the loss. I won’t take advantage of you. I won’t wear this garbage anyway…”

Xie Jinhuan knew Lin Wanyi would sneak-wear them later—but since he couldn’t see, he merely shook his head with a smile and followed behind…

——

Not long after, inside a large herbal shop on Jinmen Street, stacked high with medicinal herbs.

Guard Jia Zheng waited quietly beyond the threshold, while Xie Jinhuan stood at the entrance, scanning the lively marketplace.

Meiqiu stared curiously at a basket of unknown dried meat, looking ready to snatch and devour anything.

Lin Wanyi sat in the tea pavilion, conversing with a rotund herbal merchant:

“The market price is only sixty taels per qian—this rate seems too high…”

“That’s the spring price. After autumn, when the flowering season ends, each qian becomes rarer. I’m only giving you two qian because of your reputation as Doctor Lin. If I hoarded it till winter, I’d earn far more.”

“Sigh~ Eighty taels—we’ve dealt before…”

…

Xie Jinhuan knew rare herbs were expensive, but only now, buying them firsthand, did he grasp just how terrifying the cost was—one qian equaled his father’s salary for months, yet demand never waned.

If even third- and fourth-grade herbs cost this much, what would a transcendent-grade herb be worth?

After prolonged negotiation, two qian of Baiyang Flower sold for the astronomical price of sixteen hundred taels—held in hand, it filled only a palm-sized box, smaller than the one that had held the belly-band.

Lin Wanyi carefully cradled the priceless box and, upon exiting, ordered:

“Jia Zheng, go back and find out where else Longyang Flower is sold. Stock up—prices are rising every day since autumn began. Delay a single day, and you’ll pay more silver.”

“Yes, I’ll find out quickly.”

Xie Jinhuan walked ahead, intending to inspect the thousand-tael herb—but Daoist alchemy forbade outsiders from handling medicinal herbs, lest they damage their potency, so he refrained.

The three walked together, soon passing through the Tengpai Archway and arriving at the courtyard beside Jinmen Street where carriages and horses were parked.

Jia Zheng untied the horses at the front; Lin Wanyi stepped aboard first.

As a guest, Xie Jinhuan couldn’t precede her—he was carrying Meiqiu and scanning the street.

But as Lin Wanyi reached to open the carriage door, Xie Jinhuan’s ears twitched—he sensed something wrong, and turned to glance at the nearby stable.

Lin Wanyi, lost in thoughts of the erotic undergarments, noticed nothing else and pushed the door open.

From the gap above the door, a fine black powder drifted down:

Shashash…

Hu—

Before Lin Wanyi could react, a whirlwind surged behind her—a figure flashed forward like thunder, seized her belt, yanked her away, and drew Zhenglun Sword, spinning it into a whirling blade that blocked the powder like a wall of water.

Sssss—

Xie Jinhuan clutched Lin Wanyi in one arm, leapt backward to an open space, and saw black poison dust still clinging to her right hand—he raised his sword:

“What poison is this?”

Lin Wanyi was dazed—she saw Xie Jinhuan, her rescuer, preparing to chop off her hand outright, and hastily pulled her hand behind her:

“It’s fine, it’s fine—it’s probably Xue Ning San. I have an antidote.”

Xie Jinhuan knew Xue Ning San was a potent poison, but the Poison Cult witches wouldn’t fear it—he sheathed the Zhenglun Sword and turned toward the stable:

“Come out!”

Jia Zheng still didn’t understand what had happened, but hearing the command, he drew his waist knife and positioned himself beside Lin Wanyi.

Tap-tap~

Soon, a figure emerged beside the stable.

The man was in his thirties, dressed in coarse hemp, his black hair loosely tied atop his head, a five-foot chopping blade slung over his shoulder, his gait casual:

“You noticed me? You’re sharper than you look.”

Sensing the man’s formidable aura, Jia Zheng raised his blade, tense as if facing death:

“Who are you? Why poison us in secret?”

The man with the chopping blade stepped forward, fixed Xie Jinhuan with a look, and tilted his chin:

“Bu Er Dao Fu Dongping. Have you heard of this name?”

“Fu Dongping…”

Xie Jinhuan clearly hadn’t.

Jia Zheng whispered: “A bandit from Danzhou. Last month, he ambushed a convoy at Huangshi Ridge, killed three men—all with a single slash. Still at large. Wanted posters have been posted at the city gates for ages. Rumor says he’s reached the sixth level of martial cultivation, excels in blade techniques, greedy and lustful…”

Learning this was a sixth-level powerhouse, Lin Wanyi frowned deeply—this was bad.

Though she wasn’t afraid of poison or even martial cultivators, the Wu Sect’s methods could never be used openly in the city.

Jia Zheng wasn’t a match. Xie Jinhuan was only twenty—even if skilled, he could at best hold his own against such a ruthless bandit…

Lin Wanyi scanned the area, searching for officials—but only a few carriage drivers remained, and they’d fled at the sight. She grew anxious.

Xie Jinhuan felt no pressure—only rage.

Lin Wanyi was his lifeline. Without her pills to rapidly boost his strength, he’d be exposed and die—and he couldn’t bury his grandmother again.

Assassinating Lin Wanyi was indirectly trying to kill him.

Xie Jinhuan wanted to obliterate this trash with a flick—but following procedure, he asked:

“Who sent you?”

Fu Dongping clearly didn’t realize he was courting death; his eyes were defiant:

“Rules of the Jianghu. I won’t answer.”

“Where’s the antidote?”

"No comment."

Xie Jinhuan frowned: "If your blade were half as hard as your mouth, I'd consider you a real man."

Fu Dongping narrowed his eyes: "You're certainly bold—newborn calf unafraid of tigers—but that's hardly a compliment..."

Clang—

Before he finished speaking, a sharp sword cry rang out beneath the clear sky!

(End of Chapter)