Once the idea came to him, he acted. Just after noon, Wang Ping changed his clothes, put on a bamboo hat and a straw raincoat, and tucked a long string of Copper Coins into his pocket. Following his memory, he left the village entrance and headed straight for the nearest county seat, Longxing County, without any delay.
He walked for about another hour.
Finally, a city came into view—towering gates, soldiers standing guard, and a bustling market sprawling outside the walls.
This was the Grass Market.
Ninety-nine percent of the people who gathered here were from the rural villages and mountain hamlets outside the county seat. As for the "respectable citizens" from within the city walls, they wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this.
That said, the Grass Market outside the city could be described as small but complete. At the very least, one could buy daily necessities like firewood, rice, oil, and salt there. The prices were even cheaper, though the quality might be a bit lacking. In any case, the current Wang Ping was in no position to be picky.
Following his memory, Wang Ping soon found the rice shop in the Grass Market.
The next moment, however, he stopped dead in his tracks.
It was because of the man at the entrance to the rice shop: a Governmental Officer, dressed in black with a saber at his waist. He was sneering at the shopkeeper, his fingers tapping lightly on the counter.
"Old Chen, time to pay this month’s dues."
The shopkeeper was a man past forty. His face was etched with wrinkles, his black hair was streaked with white, and his back was hunched. Upon hearing the officer’s words, he hurriedly took out a string of Copper Coins.
"Don’t you worry, Master Liu. I have it all ready for you."
With that, the shopkeeper moved to break the string and count out the proper amount for the dues.
But in the next instant, the tall Governmental Officer known as "Master Liu" shot out a hand and snatched the entire string of Copper Coins from Old Chen’s grasp.
"Master Liu!? This..." Old Chen’s expression tightened.
"What’s there to talk about?" the Governmental Officer said, waving his hand impatiently. "This is it. I’ll count the extra toward next month’s dues. It’ll save me some time."
After speaking, he glanced at the shop’s shelves, casually grabbed a bag of high-quality rice, and tucked it away, obviously with no intention of paying. Then he swaggered off to the next business. Everywhere he went, the crowd lowered their heads to avoid him; no one dared to meet his gaze.
He was the very picture of a feared Street-Cleaning Tiger.
As for Old Chen, all he could do was manage a bitter smile.
Behind him, however, a young man of about twenty who had seen the whole thing couldn’t help but grit his teeth and mutter:
"That Liu Bapi is going too far..."
"You fool! What nonsense are you spouting?!"
At these words, the previously composed Old Chen’s face paled. He whipped around and smacked the young man, gesturing for him to shut his mouth immediately.
When he saw that the youth had fallen silent but still wore a resentful expression, Old Chen could only shake his head in resignation.
"You’re still young. Lord Liu is actually considered one of the better ones."
"No matter what, we can still make a living, and business has to continue... You endure a little injustice, and it passes. That’s how I got through it at your age, too."
From a distance, Wang Ping watched the whole thing with a calm expression.
Only when "Master Liu" had finished his rounds on the street and returned to the county seat, satisfied, did Wang Ping approach the rice shop. "Uncle Chen," he said quietly, "I’ll take half a bag of high-quality rice."
Hearing this, Old Chen immediately turned around, a pleasant, businesslike smile appearing on his face. He called the youth behind him over to help, and they measured the rice and calculated the price in one smooth sequence.
"That will be one hundred thirty-three coins."
"Uncle Chen, can you knock off the odd bit?" Wang Ping asked, unabashed.
"My friend, this is a small business I’m running..."
After some haggling, Wang Ping managed to save himself a single coin. Every little bit counts. Satisfied, he finally paid for the rice.
In addition, he still had to buy a piece of refined iron to forge his saber.
For now, he could still use leaves as a substitute, but to truly begin his training in the Moonlight Lotus Saber technique, he would have to forge a flying knife of his own.
’A single coin can fell a hero.’
’If he hadn’t become an undercover operative in the County Magistrate’s Office, playing both sides for profit, he probably couldn’t have even afforded that high-quality rice, let alone a piece of precious refined iron.’
Leaving the rice shop, Wang Ping began to wander through the Grass Market, heading specifically for the street stalls to see if he could find a cheap bargain. Every bit he could save was a win.
Along the way, Wang Ping overheard a lot of idle chatter from passersby.
The chatter was varied, covering everything from their children’s marriages to the trivial matters of daily life. However, the topic that came up most frequently was a piece of news from inside the city walls.
"Have you heard? An adept has come to the city!"
"I heard it’s a hall established by Wandering God Zhenren. The Government Office even conscripted labor to build it. It’s a massive place, right in the Shenghua District in the east of the city."
"Does that mean they’re hiring servants?"
"My uncle works in the city. He told me himself that the doorway to that hall has been practically trampled flat. Countless people are trying to get hired as servants."
"You’re telling me. The Government Office posted a clear notice: if you can get a job as a servant in the adept’s hall, your entire household is immediately exempt from all taxes! Who wouldn’t be green with envy hearing that? It’s just our bad luck to be stuck scraping by outside the city. Otherwise, we’d be fighting tooth and nail to give it a try."
"Sigh, ain’t that the truth..."
Listening to their discussion, Wang Ping couldn’t help but feel his curiosity piqued. ’An adept? With the backing of the Government Office? And even the household servants get a tax exemption?’
At this thought, he began to listen in more intently.
Fortunately, he wasn’t the only one in the dark. By listening in as he walked, he managed to piece together the gist of it and get a rough idea of the adept’s background.
In short, these so-called adepts were a group of Alchemists favored by the current Saint of the Da Shun Dynasty. It was said this group of Alchemists could refine the Elixir of Immortality, and for that, they were held in high regard by the Saint. This was why the Government Office and the County Magistrate’s Office had given them the green light, going so far as to help them build their hall and recruit servants.