Deacon Li waddled away, his large belly swaying with every step. It was clear the man was very satisfied with his “gift.”
Wang Ba, on the other hand, was miserable.
He was penniless.
After finishing the day’s work, he took a few hidden Rare Fowl eggs and set off for the West Garden Market to exchange them for grain before it grew late.
Fortunately, the Rare Fowl had laid well over the past few days, meeting the sect’s quota with some eggs to spare.
If not for that, he really would have gone hungry.
“What? One Rare Fowl egg is only worth five taels of silver?”
In front of Chen’s Grain Store, Wang Ba’s voice cracked in disbelief, drawing looks from several passersby.
In the mortal world, five taels could buy hundreds or even thousands of eggs. It was not a small sum, but it depended on the comparison.
In this market, a single Rare Fowl egg sold for over ten taels.
Conversely, ordinary rice here was exorbitantly expensive, costing one or two taels of silver per jin. In the mortal world, a few copper coins would suffice.
Many wealthy mortals brought silver into the sect, while very little flowed out, causing severe inflation.
Spirit Stones were the true hard currency here.
But Spirit Stones weren’t something a mortal laborer like him could easily touch.
“That’s the price,” Shopkeeper Chen said, reclining lazily in his chair. He looked at Wang Ba with drooping eyelids, radiating a ‘take it or leave it’ attitude. “You decide.”
Chen’s store was technically a “Grain Store,” but it functioned more like a general grocer. He sold anything edible—chicken, duck, fish, meat. He had Rare Fowl, Precious Pigs, Colorful Ducks, and more.
It was rather like the neighborhood food markets in his previous life, though the variety here could not compare.
Wang Ba gritted his teeth and made the trade.
He traded four Rare Fowl eggs for ten jin of rice.
Chen’s Grain Store was one of the fairer shops in the market. The others offered even lower prices.
Just then, a wary middle-aged man in a standard sect robe approached the store, carrying a covered black basket.
Wang Ba’s nose twitched.
He smelled an extremely familiar odor.
The man shot a wary glance at Wang Ba. Reading the room, Wang Ba tactfully stepped away.
However, he didn’t go far. He lingered in the shadow of a nearby stall, pricking up his ears.
Faint snatches of conversation drifted over.
“…Spirit Poultry… twenty…”
“…No… at most this many…”
Spirit Poultry?!
Wang Ba started.
Recalling the familiar smell on the man, Wang Ba was certain: it was the unmistakable stench of chicken droppings.
Spirit Poultry can actually be sold on the open market?
Wang Ba was stunned.
He had assumed that since the Sect placed such high value on them for tribute, they were controlled resources—illegal to trade privately.
But witnessing the trade opened up new possibilities.
A plan formed instantly.
He watched from hiding for a while. The man soon left with a bulging package; judging by its size, he had probably been paid in Spirit Stones.
Wang Ba didn’t waste a second. He sprinted back to the mountain manor.
Once inside, he dug out Old Man Sun’s tattered, patch-covered Daoist robe. He hadn’t thrown it away, thinking it would make good nesting material for the hens.
Now, it was the perfect disguise.
Old Man Sun was about his size. Wearing the old robe and smearing his face, he would be unrecognizable to anyone who did not know him very well.
“Ahem… kkhh…”
He adjusted his voice until he was sure it would not immediately give him away.
Satisfied, he returned to the West Garden Market.
He bypassed Chen’s store and circled around to a different shop: Lu’s Grain Depot.
He entered without speaking, looking around.
Shopkeeper Lu did not drive him out. They were all in the same sect; he might be someone’s relative or have influential backing. There was no need to make an enemy.
Lu sat calmly behind the counter, his demeanor professional. “Feel free to look around, customer.”
Seeing no other customers in the shop and no assistants nearby, Wang Ba approached the counter.
“Shopkeeper Lu,” he said quietly, “would you buy something good?”
“Good stuff?”
Shopkeeper Lu looked up and studied his disheveled fellow sect member, quickly trying to match him with anyone he remembered. No one came to mind.
“Customer,” Lu said slowly, his tone flat but confident. “Everyone in the West Garden Market knows that if ‘Lu’s Grain Depot’ won’t buy it, no one will. Speak freely.”
Wang Ba was not surprised. After more than two months in the sect, he had learned that the family of the Outer Sect’s Senior Disciple had founded Lu’s Grain Depot. It ranked among the best shops in the nearby mortal markets, with both a good reputation and powerful backing.
Its buying prices were low, though. He would never have come here to sell eggs; it would not have been worth it. But…
“I have a Spirit Poultry,” Wang Ba whispered.
Shopkeeper Lu, who had been leaning back with indifference, snapped to attention. His face turned serious.
“What grade? Male or female?”
Wang Ba froze.
Grade?
Seeing the blank look on Wang Ba’s grimy face, Shopkeeper Lu realized he was dealing with a novice.
“It seems you don’t know about Spirit Poultry grades. They are Spirit Beasts, so naturally they are graded.”
“First Rank corresponds to a cultivator’s Qi Refining realm. It is generally divided into four grades: Lower, Middle, Upper, and Supreme.”
Lu leaned forward. “If you trust my shop, bring the bird here. I will appraise it for you.”
Wang Ba hesitated. Bringing the bird here meant handing over all leverage.
Experienced in dealing with people, Shopkeeper Lu saw his concern. He was not offended, and smiled.
“Fine. If you don’t trust my eye, go to the talisman shop down the street. Buy a ‘Low-Grade Spirit Light Talisman.’ It’s not expensive—twenty taels of silver. It will reveal the grade of any First Rank Spirit Beast.”
The man spoke with authority. Wang Ba believed him about seventy percent.
He didn’t leave immediately. “And the prices?”
Lu answered with a question. “Was it obtained legitimately?”
“Absolutely clean,” Wang Ba declared resolutely.
Shopkeeper Lu stroked his beard.
“If the origin is clean… a First Rank Lower-Grade female is worth six low-grade Spirit Stones.”
“Middle-Grade? Fourteen.”
“Upper-Grade? Thirty.”
“Supreme-Grade? A hundred stones wouldn’t even cover it.”
Lu paused. “If it’s a rooster, cut those prices by at least half.”
The prices were nothing like Wang Ba had expected, and far from the seventeen or eighteen Spirit Stones Old Man Sun had mentioned.
“Why are roosters so cheap?” Wang Ba asked.
“Roosters contain less spiritual energy than hens and are poor at mating, so they have no other use. Hens can also lay eggs, and Spirit Poultry eggs are quite beneficial to Qi Refinement cultivators.”
Ah. That explains it.
Wang Ba cupped his hands. “Thank you for the lesson, Shopkeeper. I don’t have the bird with me. I will return later.”
“No harm done.”
Shopkeeper Lu knew the game. He didn’t push. “Rest assured, customer. Our buying price is the highest in the market. If you decide to sell, come to us.”
Wang Ba nodded and shuffled out.
He asked prices at several other grain stores and visited the market’s only talisman shop.
After taking a winding route and making sure no one was following, he left the market.
He walked some distance in the direction opposite the manor.
Still seeing no sign of anyone following him, Wang Ba finally let out a breath.
“Perhaps I was worrying too much. But it’s better to be cautious anyway.”
After some thought,
He knew exactly what to do with the four Spirit Poultry in his coop.