Chapter 77: Entering the Ghost Market

"Hoo~ hoo~"

It seemed he had been running a bit fast; the old Daoist arrived right in front of Lin Feng and began to pant heavily.

"Hmph, I thought you were some kind of madman, but to think you're actually from the Paper Artisan Hall. How unlucky!"

Once he saw the heavy-armored paper figures digging the grave and Lin Feng clearly, his expression darkened, and he made no effort to hide his disgust.

"Paper Artisan Hall? You old bull-nose, you'd better look closely—I, Old Sun, am no one from any Paper Artisan Hall!"

Lin Feng certainly wouldn't take the blame for the Paper Artisan Hall; he shook his head and swayed his body to deny such an identity.

"Eh? Your attire is indeed a bit different. Could it be that you're one of those opera performers from the east?"

Having been told this by Lin Feng, the old Daoist also reacted; looking at Lin Feng's face, which resembled the painted face of an opera troupe member, he asked with some confusion.

"Hehe, I, Old Sun, am a lone wolf. I've recently been using Xinglong Ridge as my dojo, and I have nothing to do with the opera troupe you speak of!"

Lin Feng shook his head again and then asked him: "Old bull-nose, why don't you tell me, why is this grave not to be dug?"

Lin Feng had denied his background twice in a row, and the old Daoist couldn't figure out his origins.

However, after thinking for a moment, he still said: "The desolate villages and desolate graves on both sides of this yellow mud road leading to the Ghost Market all have significant backgrounds. If one were to recklessly disturb the arrangements here, there's no telling what kind of great trouble might break out!"

"Besides, there is nothing here but ghosts or some evil things; why are you touching these?"

The old Daoist clearly did not understand Lin Feng's behavior; he wasn't a grave robber, and even if he were, a grave robber would only be after gold and silver treasures.

These desolate graves didn't even have a single tombstone among them—what was the point of digging them?

Looking for trouble for himself?

"You say this yellow mud road leads to the Ghost Market?"

Lin Feng didn't feel much about the latter words, but the first sentence caught his attention.

"Could it be that you were dragged into this by the yellow mud road?"

Hearing Lin Feng's question, the old Daoist instantly realized; no wonder this guy was acting like a greenhorn, daring to dig graves here.

"Hehe, that's right. I, Old Sun, was passing through this area and didn't expect to encounter this road for no reason."

Lin Feng nodded. It was good to have someone who knew the inside story, saving him from having to guess blindly.

"Cough, cough, hmm. You listen well: this Ghost Market is not like other places. Whether you encounter a person or a ghost inside is hard to say, so do not trust others easily."

"If you want to leave, you must wait until after dawn when the Ghost Market dissipates; the yellow mud road will send those who came back to their respective origins."

The old Daoist seemed to have a good heart; after twisting his beard, he earnestly warned Lin Feng.

"Interesting. Tell me more—what exactly is in this Ghost Market?"

Hearing him say this, Lin Feng became interested and urged him directly.

"What's in it?"

"Everything you want, as long as you have Ghost Money!"

The old Daoist lifted his feet and walked toward the front of the yellow mud road, speaking as he walked, his demeanor like someone rushing to a fair.

Seeing this, Lin Feng waved his hand at the heavy-armored paper figures in the graveyard to summon them back, then followed along himself.

According to what the old Daoist said, he couldn't leave until dawn, so it wouldn't hurt to go and take a look at this so-called Ghost Market.

"What is Ghost Money?"

Catching up to the old Daoist, Lin Feng was quite curious about the Ghost Money he had mentioned.

"You don't even know about Ghost Money?"

The old Daoist, who was walking quickly, couldn't help but click his tongue when he heard Lin Feng's words. Good heavens, he really was a greenhorn!

"I don't know."

Lin Feng nodded quite straightforwardly; not only him, but even the corpses he had buried had no relevant memories.

Perhaps they did, but Lin Feng hadn't noticed; after all, he hadn't even known the Ghost Market existed.

"It's this kind of money. You can keep an eye out for it if you encounter it later."

After thinking for a moment, the old Daoist took two strangely shaped copper coins from the inner pocket of his sleeve and handed them to Lin Feng.

The copper coins were the black color of aged copper; the front was imprinted with the archaic characters for "Yin Office Ghost Money," and the back featured an open, evil ghost's eye.

Upon taking the copper coins, Lin Feng instantly felt a cold sensation radiating from his fingertips, and at the same time, the Opera Ghost seemed to instinctively want to hide this type of coin.

Of course, this instinct was nothing under Lin Feng's control; after understanding what they were, Lin Feng returned the Ghost Money to the other party.

"Heh, speak of the devil and here we are. Still, the same advice: once you enter this Ghost Market, don't trust anyone, because you never know if what you're meeting is a ghost!"

Suddenly, the old Daoist stopped his steps, then pointed toward a cluster of shadowy buildings ahead and warned Lin Feng again.

"Old bull-nose, if you say not to trust anyone, then why come to this Ghost Market at all?"

Lin Feng looked at the somewhat blackened gate tower in front of him, which had a very old plaque on it that didn't look like something from this era.

Two blurry characters were written on the plaque; one could vaguely guess they were the words "Ghost Market."

"Hmph, coming to this place is for nothing more than two things: risking your life, or buying a ghost!"

Speaking of this, the old Daoist's expression changed, and after saying this, he stepped directly into the gate tower.

Then, his entire person disappeared from Lin Feng's field of vision, while ahead there remained only those shadowy, ancient buildings.

Seeing this, Lin Feng thought for a moment and also stepped inside. As he entered the gate tower, the surrounding scene changed instantly.

It was as if he had suddenly arrived on an ancient street; the entire street was paved with bluestone slabs, and on both sides were old wooden buildings of varying heights.

Some wooden buildings had lanterns emitting green light in front of them, while others were pitch black inside and out.

There weren't many people coming and going on the street; after all, the surrounding environment was very dark, and one could only vaguely see people passing by.

However, even if others passed by, it was not easy to see their features clearly; the people coming and going were more like moving corpses.

Even Lin Feng could only see a distance of a few dozen meters ahead and behind; beyond that distance, everything seemed to be a blur.

"Pat, pat."

But what was eerie was that the entire street was quiet to the extreme; other than the sound of footsteps, there was no other noise at all.

It seemed that as long as one came here, one would unconsciously hide their breathing.

"Candle shop?"

Lin Feng looked toward a shop with a light on in front of its door, and as a result, he saw such a sign.

"Could it be corpse oil candles?"

Even with his butt he knew this kind of place certainly wouldn't sell ordinary candles, and since Lin Feng had a corpse oil candle in his hand, he naturally thought of this.

After thinking for a moment, Lin Feng walked over; if there really were corpse oil candles, he could see if he could buy some.

He had not forgotten that things used to raise ghosts also included corpse oil candles, but this kind of thing required at least two to see any effect.

Arriving in front of this shop, a thick stench of rot immediately rushed toward his face, and mixed within the rot was an extremely greasy, nauseating smell.

But Lin Feng was even more certain that this was the place that sold corpse oil candles!

Approaching the shop and looking inside, Lin Feng immediately saw candles placed one by one on the counter.

These candles were all different in color; some presented a bewitching red, and the dripping melted wax spread onto the counter like blood.

Some candles were white, with faint green flames lit on them, which looked like they should be the same kind he had obtained before.

Besides these, there was also a type of black candle; this kind of candle was not lit and was just placed there, yet it was unusually conspicuous, making one see this thing at a glance.

These three types of candles were only roughly classified by color; in reality, their sizes, shapes, and effects were all very different.

Before Lin Feng reached the front of the shop and could even speak, he heard a cold, dry voice reach his ears.

"Red candles are five qian, white candles are ten qian, black candles are one hundred qian; which kind do you want?"