The 'Goods List'

"Sc-Scribe..."

Upon hearing the voice behind him, Qian Qi immediately stiffened. His voice turned shrill, laced with the panic of someone caught red-handed.

He spun around and saw a figure standing right behind him.

The man wore a scholar's headscarf and a matching robe, both crafted from sapphire-blue satin. The fabric was embroidered with clusters of elegant floral patterns, and a silk sash was tied around his waist.

It was not the typical attire of a disciple from the Yin Yang Divine Sect.

Instead, the outfit bore a striking resemblance to the style favored by Young Master Zheng.

However, while Young Master Zheng's style was casual and careless, this man's dress was highly meticulous, perfectly fitting the title Qian Qi had just uttered-

Scribe.

His identity was plain to see.

He was one of the Four Great Scribes of Fanlou.

As a hub within the Yin Yang Divine Sect where disciples bartered goods, shared intelligence, and traded treasures or fated chances, Fanlou had established itself as a formidable power over the years.

The Tower Master held absolute authority, and beneath him sat the Four Great Scribes.

The Tower Master was an incredibly mysterious figure whose true identity remained unknown. Consequently, the Scribes naturally acted as the public faces of Fanlou, with each handling a different sphere of responsibility.

Given Fanlou's unique nature, the Four Great Scribes-along with the rest of its inner circle-maintained dual identities. While serving Fanlou, they remained disciples of their respective main peaks.

Take Qian Qi, for instance.

His ability to secure a spot as a personal disciple of Yin Yang Peak was entirely due to the political weight of Fanlou.

"Scribe, I happened upon an extraordinary treasure and purchased it specifically to present to you. Please, take a look."

As he spoke, Qian Qi offered the broken sword with both hands.

The Scribe took the weapon, his brows knitting as he examined it from side to side.

"What sort of junk is this?"

"This broken sword is..."

Qian Qi repeated the vendor's earlier boastful claims word for word. The more the Scribe listened, the deeper his frown carved into his face. Was this not complete and utter nonsense?

It was the most basic of swindles.

"Scribe, this item was caught in Ning Fan's sights. That brat possesses a bizarre talent for deciphering the inheritances of ancient ruins. There must be something extraordinary hidden within this blade for him to target it. Why don't you examine it with your spiritual power?"

Qian Qi urged eagerly.

"Oh?"

Hearing this, the Scribe finally showed a hint of interest, slightly lifting an eyebrow. Under Qian Qi's watchful gaze, he channeled his spiritual power directly into the weapon.

Buzz—

A low hum vibrated through the air as the spiritual energy surged. The ancient, encrusted rust began to flake off, peeling away to reveal a luminous, delicate blade as thin as a cicada's wing.

"Could it be?!"

The eyes of both the Scribe and Qian Qi lit up in unison. Qian Qi was especially thrilled; after all, this piece of metal had cost him a staggering two thousand five hundred Spirit Stones. Using it to curry favor with the Scribe was far better than letting that wealth go down the drain.

Yet in the very next breath-

Bang—

A sharp pop echoed through the corridor. The fragile remnant simply could not withstand the sheer pressure of the Scribe's spiritual energy. It violently shattered into a cloud of fine debris, blasting a layer of grey dust right into the faces of both men.

The Scribe froze.

Qian Qi froze.

The onlookers stared in stunned silence.

"Scribe?" Qian Qi croaked, refusing to accept reality even as the fragments rained down onto the floor.

Huff—

The Scribe took a long, deep breath to forcibly suppress the rage boiling in his chest.

"Useless trash."

"You were thoroughly played by Ning Fan. This thing has absolutely no value. Your Spirit Stones have completely gone down the drain!"

Qian Qi felt as though a bolt of lightning had struck his soul. He stood dazed, a wave of blank bewilderment washing over him.

A heartbeat later, that numbness sharpened into agonizing heartache.

He had been... swindled?!

Ah!!! Two thousand five hundred Spirit Stones!!!

Qian Qi whipped his head around toward the vendor's original spot, but the stall was already gone, the merchant having vanished into the crowd. Even if the man were still there, Qian Qi had no recourse.

Treasure gambling was, at its core, a gamble.

One had to accept the consequences of a bad bet.

"Hurry up and finalize the merchandise list," the Scribe barked with immense irritation. He turned on his heel, brushing the dust from his pristine robes as he stormed away.

Qian Qi stood frozen, his heart bleeding.

"Ning Fan!!" he howled inwardly.

Several nearby Yin Yang Peak disciples held their breath, terrified of courting trouble while their senior brother was in such a foul mood. Yet, in the blink of an eye, the fury radiating from Qian Qi abruptly vanished. His eyes darted about rapidly, gleaming with a malicious light as a wicked scheme took root in his mind.

"The list... Yes, the list!"

Although the sect had opened both the third and fifth floors of the Yin Yang Tower to external sect cultivators, a vast gulf existed between the two. The external cultivators on the third floor possessed relatively ordinary status and strength, allowing them only to pick directly from willing disciples. But the fifth floor was an entirely different matter.

Those permitted on the fifth floor were elite external cultivators who possessed either terrifying strength, background, or both.

These high-tier guests were given a special 'goods list.' The roster detailed the names, innate talents, and cultivation realms of the younger generation of Yin Yang Divine Sect disciples.

And next to each name sat a designated price tag.

As long as an external cultivator paid the exact amount to the Yin Yang Divine Sect, the sect administration would turn a eye to whatever actions they took against that disciple.

It was, in the most literal sense, the underlying logic of the sect selling its own people.

The document Qian Qi was currently drafting happened to be this very list.

"Yun Qingyao..."

A venomous glint flared in Qian Qi's eyes. With a flick of his wrist, he penned her name onto the parchment and added a detailed note beneath it:

Dual-Cultivation Physique. Cultivation realm: High. Exceptional benefits guaranteed upon coupling.

Price: One hundred Spirit Stones.

After completing the entry, Qian Qi rolled up the paper, a sinister smirk spreading across his face.

Hehe.

He truly could not wait to see what would happen once they reached the fifth floor.

When a single session of dual cultivation with Yun Qingyao cost a mere hundred Spirit Stones, what kind of hellish situation would Ning Fan find himself trapped in?!

It was bound to be an exquisite show.

""

Meanwhile, Ning Fan had already walked a great distance away. At this moment, pure excitement coursed through him, causing his stride to quicken significantly.

The reason was simple-

The artifact radiating the distinct aura of the Wushi Seal was now safely in his grasp.

That was right. The broken sword he had originally targeted was never the prize. What a joke-how could he possibly expose his true objective right from the start?

As it turned out, his caution had been entirely warranted. Someone had indeed stepped up to sabotage him.

Even the mysterious small stone he had bid on second was nothing more than a decoy. The true treasure emitting the Wushi Seal's resonance was the tiny, neglected cauldron sitting at the very edge of the display.

The one the vendor had thrown in for free.

Now, Ning Fan was itching to find a quiet place to thoroughly study the little cauldron. Unfortunately, the bustling third floor of the Yin Yang Tower offered absolutely no privacy.

Wait.

Perhaps inside the barrier would suffice.

"Hey, handsome. I'll give you three hundred Spirit Stones for one night, what do you say? Honestly, I'm only offering this much because you're so good-looking."

A voice chimed in.

A female external cultivator had stepped into his path, boldly striking up a conversation.

Ning Fan paused, immediately stepped up to her, and countered without missing a beat.

"I'll give you three hundred Spirit Stones."

"Will you do it?"

His blunt response left the female cultivator utterly bewildered.

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